Chapter Text
The unforgiving winter wasn't helping your hungry stomach, and your heavy rifle was making you walk slower than you wanted through the thick snowy forest. Food was scarce, and you had to return to your community with something or you'd berate yourself for failing again. A team was sent out and dispersed throughout the forest to see if anything could be found. The community had been on rations since winter arrived; despite being a successful small commune, it wasn't as large or lively as the neighboring community Jackson.
“There you are….” You whispered to yourself as you set your rifle down on a log, laid down and aimed at a full grown buck.
Your icy breath fogging around you as you took a deep breath, “1….2….3-“
BAM!
You jumped as the sound of a high-powered sniper reached your ears, perfectly shooting down your buck before you could pull the trigger. It was a concoction of confusion and rage coursing through your veins. Standing up, you take a cautious look around, desperately trying to see through the thick snow-covered trees. The crunching sounds of snow and twigs made you snap your neck towards a nearby tree just as you were about to leave and give up with your tail between your legs. A man emerges from behind it, clearly not noticing you by the distance, making his way towards the dead buck.
If you were a lesser man, you would have stolen the buck and made a big deal about how you were about to shoot it down first, but you were not such a man. So you bit your tongue and turned around, giving the man one last look. But not without the snow crunching under you, giving you away and causing him to point his sniper in your direction reflexively.
"Don't worry, I was just walking out." You yelled across the distance with your hands up, your eyes rolling as he carefully walked towards you with his sniper.
As he came into better view, you immediately recognized him, making you groan. It was one of the people in charge of Jackson—he was usually the frontman who came over with supplies when trading with your town. And, to be honest, you despised him. You couldn't stand his savior complex, or so you thought—no man in this world is truly that caring. He's probably overcompensating for something he's done, which is how you interpret him. And now he took your buck to make matters worse.
"I knew you looked familiar," he said as he looked over your facial features and put down his sniper. “I've seen you around. I'm not sure if you remember me, but my name is Tomm-"
"I remember you; you're the hippie my people occasionally trade with, and you're also the guy who just took my buck down before I even pulled the trigger." Your rifle was slung over your shoulder.
His brown eyes and freckled face were probably the most appealing aspects of him. As much as you hated to admit it, it was probably his most attractive features and the reason so many people like your leaders traded with him so easily. But you weren't a fool, and you weren't about to give in.
As he observed your somewhat hostile behavior, his face became filled with internal conflict, but he still grinned. Not offended by what you said. “Really? I'm very sorry about that. If you want, I can help you get it back to your town—the weather is bad— it's least I can do." His southern drawl was noticeable.
You furrow your brow, offended by his ability and willingness; "I don't need your charity. Take Bambi with you, we'll be fine." you say as you walk away, your feet shifting in the opposite direction.
Tommy snorted at your behavior this time, "We have enough food. Let me help.”
You return a disapproving look as you continue walking, his figure shrinking as he simply stands there, gears clearly turning.
When you returned to your commune, a few others on the hunting expedition returned with rabbits, making you feel less useless and petty for refusing Tommy's charity. You knew it was selfish not to accept his assistance, especially in such a severe winter, but you couldn't accept it without feeling incompetent. And it came from him, someone you didn't necessarily trust or like. The apocalypse only increased your distrust of people; it was your skepticism that kept you alive.
The next morning, you awoke to begin your daily duties, such as feeding the farm animals, cleaning, and ensuring that the plants you were gardening were not withering due to the cold weather. Until, of course, the front gates opened and two gentlemen on horseback began strolling in, pulling something behind them on a sled. They were instantly welcomed by both of your community leaders, suggesting that it was a routine trading exchange. That is, until you realized it was Tommy and another older gentleman with graying hair.
You bit your lower lip in irritation as you set down your gardening shovel and walked towards the gate. As you approached them, you noticed that they were dragging a buck that looked very similar to the one you saw the day before. It made you raise an eyebrow at them both.
"What a pleasant surprise—I didn't expect you to drop by today." One of your leaders made a surprising pitch.
Tommy then noticed you arriving, briefly looking down from his horse before returning his gaze to them. "I figured the season was tough on you guys. This was just caught today, so I might as well do y’all a favor and help you."
Was he trying to make up for yesterday? you shook your head visibly. It didn't matter. Perhaps you weren't being rational in your disdain for people like him but you couldn't find yourself seeing anything genuine about it. It may not have been a savior complex but this man comes in every week to trade something, and now that you've rejected his offering, he shows up with a new buck today. Going against your wishes. You've seen far too many wolves in sheep's clothing to ever truly trust anyone again. Previous experiences have scarred you. Even as you scowled at him, he smiled, so brightly that crinkles formed around the edge of his eyes. You were irritated by those damn brown eyes.
"We don't have much to trade right now, [name] is the head of gardening and hunting here, and he can tell you how we've been running on fumes." As you stood there with your jaw tight, looking away from the two riders, one of the leaders looked at you with unease.
“No need. Just tell us where to drag this bad boy, think of it as a Christmas present. It’s a small community, it’s the least we can do.” Tommy gave the man a nod.
‘It’s the least we can do’, you mocked in your head.
“We cannot thank you enough! Um, [name]….” He looked over at you, “Please guide this gentleman where the butcher is.”
You bit your lower lip, nodding and motioning with your chin for Tommy to follow you on his horse. Heavy angry steps, shoveling through the snow, as you kept your back to the man, who was staring at you with the same amused expression he had yesterday.
"Come on, man, I’m trying my best here." Tommy broke the silence with a nervous laugh.
You look back at him briefly, still trodding along; “at what exactly?”
“A truce. For taking down your buck yesterday unknowingly.” He mumbled.
A truce?
"I'm not upset about the buck; I told you to take it." You retorted quickly, and as you approached the butcher shop, you came to a halt, giving him a look to stop the horse.
"Really?" Tommy asked as he hopped off his horse. “For some reason, every time I come to trade here, you give me the meanest of mugs. What is it? I'm trying to make amends."
You snort loudly as you knock on the door; "Fresh kill!" You yell, placing your hand on your hip and turning to face him.
"I don't trust you. And I don't believe your entire savior act. You have a hero complex, and it just doesn't sit well with me, get it?" You drew your arms across your chest.
"Listen-" but he was cut off by the swinging door.
"What is it?" The butcher inquired as he approached the horse's sled.
“Venison.” You and Tommy both utter at the same time, giving each other an awkward look.
"Big one, kindly help me in bringing it inside." As he attempted to move it, the man grunted.
You were about to move and help when Tommy stepped in and said, "Got it." He grabbed it by the antlers while the other man did the same. They were both grunting and breathing heavily as they made their way inside with it, while you stood there mildly annoyed. You figured you'd slip away to finish your day's work; you weren't about to linger through another agonizing conversation.
Night fell quickly, and just as you were about to fall asleep, you heard commotion and chaos outside. The reflection of orange colors in your bedroom made you nervous. Your first thought as you rolled out of bed was raiders; a few have been attempting to make a dent around the front gates for the past few weeks with no success. Small communities are often victims of being undermanned and underpowered, and it appears that today was one of those breaking points. You desperately search for your firearm, slipping your shoes on and run outside. Townspeople were fleeing for cover as a dozen men out front attempted to fire on the raiders attempting to break through the burning gate.
As you were about to fire alongside them, a gate came tumbling down, the fire making it brittle, and with it came dozens of raiders making their way through, taking down everyone in their paths. Bullets were also flying everywhere, some dangerously close to you. You took some down with your own rifle, but your success was short-lived as grenades were thrown in, taking bits and pieces from all the other men alongside you. As you tried to stand up from the whiplash from the grenades, your hearing was shot out. You told yourself that it was game over. You hadn't even been there 10 minutes and it was almost all gone, bodies all around you.
“Fucccccckkkkkkk!” You hissed, running in to the snow filled forest, bullets grazing your rib and temple as they tried to follow you but gave up the more you went in. And, thankfully, you were only slightly bleeding, but you needed to treat your minor wounds as soon as possible. There was a cabin a mile in the forest that was used to store hunting equipment and was used whenever you went on day-long hunting trips.
Because of how much you'd been running, your face and limbs were numb as soon as you arrived, and you almost looked like a ghost. Hopefully, there was no hyperthermia, as that was the last thing you needed. You instantly started a fire in the fireplace with leftover oil and matches and sat in front of it, trying to warm yourself up again. Taking out your pocket knife, you heated the blade in the fire until it glowed orange, breathing quickly with anxiety coursing through your veins, you cursed—"fuck, don't be such a coward..."
You had to cauterize the bullet grazings or they would become infected; taking a deep final breath in, you pressed the hot blade against the graze on your ribs first. You winced, screaming into your elbow, tears streaming down your cheek. It was agonizing, and you had no idea how you were going to do the same to the side of your brow. You threw the knife in front of you on the floor, frustrated. You were alone once more, the community you had been a part of for months had vanished. It was too much for you, so you began sobbing and cradling yourself back and forth.
"Blood trail leads here..." a deep muffled voice says from outside, causing your head to snap to the direction of the door. You grab your knife and crawl to the corner of the room, terrified. While your hands were shaking, you held your knife opposite of you. There was nowhere to hide; it was basically a living room.
The door shook as the intruders tried to break it open from the lock; each time they rammed into it, you gripped your knife tighter and gasped. After several attempts to run through it, the door finally gave way. Grunts could be heard on the other side as two men and their silhouettes emerged from the shadows.
"I'm armed. I'm warning you, I’ll stab the shit out you both." You stood up now, trying to appear menacing, but you still didn't move from your corner.
One of them took a step forward, revealing a pair of familiar brown eyes and freckles across his face. Dark curls with a light dusting of snow. Sporting a blue denim jacket and blue denim pants.
It was him.
"Oh, I believe you." Tommy raised his hands as his brother approached from behind him, puzzled.
"Enough distance, brown eyes." You extended your knife further, your eyes tired from being up so long.
Tommy scanned your jittery injured figure with a worried expression and empathy in his eyes. You were in flight or fight mode.
“Wh- what happened? Town’s up in flames, we saw the smoke all the way from Jackson.” He set his hands down now, “I’m not gonna hurt you, I swear-“
“What you think genius? Raiders. Everyone’s gone. And yeah? I’m not giving that a chance.” Your back hit the wooden wall now as you sat down on the floor, still with your knife up at them.
Tommy shook his head, clenched his jaw, and looked down at his shoes. "Joel, get your horse. Search the town with the rest of our party, and take any survivors to Jackson for medical attention. Any raiders..." he cocked his head to the side, "...you know what to do."
Joel replied under his breath, "You'll be fine here?"
"Yes, Joel. I'll be fine. I'll radio you if I need anything." Tommy raised an eyebrow and turned his head to look at him.
Joel nodded and looked at you briefly before walking out the door. Leaving you both in an awkward quiet situation.
"Let's close this door now, shall we?" Tommy said as he stepped back. “It's very cold." He rubbed his hands together before taking a chair from the corner of the room and sitting down.
You were still in fighting mode, your gaze fixed on him. Maybe he was behind the raid. Despite his charming persona, you didn't know him or what he was capable of.
"You left quite a blood trail outside...I followed it here. How are you feeling?" He said softly now, his gaze gliding over your figure, the crackle of the fireplace filling the silence.
You huff, feeling dissected by him; "They're just bullet grazes. I...have already cauterized one."
He nodded, impressed by your bravery; "That one on your head, however, needs medical attention... I reckon you'd like that?" He impatiently placed a hand on his knee.
"It's not very deep, so I'll be fine."
"You're stubborn, aren't you?" He blurted out, a slight grin on the corner of his lips. The statement was both said with humor and frustration.
"I don't need help from nobody— I can-" you shrugged.
"Take care of yourself, is it? ...This whole machismo thing you've got going on— not accepting the buck I took down, hating me for no good reason, always denying help when offered— it's going to kill you." he cut you off. “Allow others to help you...allow me to help you." He continued to ramble, his eyes serious with sincerity.
It send a shock of something up your spine for the first time, an odd feeling of plummeting. So you swallowed deeply, looking away from him.
“Fuck off.” Was all you could muster up since he read you like a open book, it made you angry.
Tommy let out a surprised yet sarcastic giggle now— “really? Soon as you’re done with your little fit let me know, so we can head back to Jackson and treat your wounds. It’s not like I have all night.” He laid back on the chair now, relaxing as he crossed his legs.
And you both stayed there for what seemed like half an hour. Until you couldn't take it either anymore and you huffed; "Why do you care anyways? You don't know who I am."
"Well, despite your... hatred for me and your distrust for me... I care because I've walked in your shoes. Jumping from group to group, losing community, hungry and unsure when my next meal would come. Until I arrived in Jackson. Now I try my hardest to give back." He leaned forward, his elbows on his thighs.
You took a deep breath now, your shoulders dropping—and your tough guy persona fading as you gave up fighting and being petty. Dropping your pointed knife on the wooden floor, you dug your face into your raised up knees and sobbed. Not daring to look up at the observant man who was now standing up and ignoring him. The wooden floor creaked under his weight as he took only a few steps forward, leaving a gap between the two of you.
"It’s alright, let's go. We'll fix you up, how does that sound?" he said softly.
You stood up, taking a deep breath and quickly wiping away your tears so he wouldn't notice them. You looked in shambles, with blood soaking the right side of your shirt and dripping down your brow; it wasn't the most appealing appearance.
As you were about to leave with him, the door flung open, revealing what you assumed to be an exhausted raider based on his clothes. He appeared to be fleeing whatever justice Tommy's men were inflicting on them. Tommy turned around instinctively, drawing his handgun, but not before the raider tackled him to the ground, the air leaving his lungs as a result of the powerful takedown. Then the man began choking him, Tommy’s face turning red as you stood there in shock before your adrenaline kicked in and you stabbed the man in the neck. Tommy then pushed the body onto the floor next to him, coughing loudly as he crawled along it.
“Are you okay?” You never thought in a million years you’d ask him that, but you asked it, reluctantly, and offered him a hand just as he was trying to gain his breath.
Tommy looked at it for a moment, as surprised as you were by your actions, and then took it. "Mothefucker was on top of me before I even turned around..." he said as you dragged him up with you. "...but, yes, I'm fine— Thanks to you." He mumbled, giving you a grateful grin that made you nervous—the same feeling you had earlier resurfacing in your core. His calloused hand remained unknowingly in yours as you frantically pulled away. You coughed as you walked to the door, while Tommy was completely unconcerned by it.
“Let’s get going, think I’m gonna bleed out from this thing.” You pointed at your head.
Jackson was as breathtaking as you imagined, way bigger than your town of course and endless amounts of people. Everyone was doing their part and it seemed way lively than your small town. It nearly brought you to tears as you remembered you were the only one who made it out of there alive, another trauma you didn’t need in your life. Survivors guilt ate at you the more time you spent in Jackson, wondering why were you the one who survived out of everyone else.
Soon as they put butterfly stitches on your forehead and tended to the cauterized slash on your ribs; you were introduced to Maria by Tommy. She apparently ran the place, but her and Tommy were sort of a duo when it came to the place. Further than that, you couldn’t really tell what their situation was. Maybe they were friends, maybe they weren’t.
“I first want to say that I’m sorry, I know it must not be easy to be the only survivor to make it out of that.” She gave you the most sympathetic of eyes, making you shift uncomfortably between your thighs as you just stood there.
“Thankfully I got to him before anyone else did. Smartest thing he did was flee the scene.” Tommy spoke, putting his hands in his pockets.
Maria brought her hand up to your shoulder making you instinctively flinch; you’re not used to human touch and weren’t good with reciprocating it. Even after the help Tommy has given you, you were still keeping an eye out on him and everyone. Call it paranoia but your past has called for you to be that way. Of course, the flinch went noticed by both of them making them stare at you with even more pity which you didn’t like. Regardless, she squeezed your shoulder; “We’re working on solo housing. But for now, I think we’re gonna have to share a place with someone.”
“I have a spare room at my place , nobody uses it— might as well put it to good use.” Tommy spoke up suddenly, his warm eyes ever so present as he tried to reassure you.
“That sounds great! Are you okay with that?” Maria chirped.
You bit your lip, shoving your hands in your pockets; “it’ll do, thank you for the…” you trailed off awkwardly, “…stitches and all.” You pointed at your dome avoiding eye contact with them.
Trommy pressed his lips together forming an upward smile; “Well, let’s get going then.”
Tommy’s place was surprisingly tidy and extremely clean. It had white walls, a small kitchen and bathroom and two bedrooms. Your heavy boots made noise every time you took a step in any direction though causing you to walk awkwardly across anywhere he gave you a tour.
As you made it to where your room was supposed to be; a thought popped up in your head. You blurted it out with no much thought of consequence; “Are you sure you’re okay with me being here? I feel like I’m intruding.” You scratched your arm, looking at him with timidity.
Tommy rested his hand on his hip and laughed; “Why you feel like you’re intruding? I’m the one who offered.”
“I don’t know.” You mumbled, your eyes tired. There was a certain guilt eating at you ever since you took his offer to come back to Jackson. Even though you still didn’t trust him, you felt guilt in the fact that he’s done a lot for you and yet you treated him like dirt up until recently.
Tommy stood there silently looking at your physical behavior; until he spoke again in a more softer voice, “You’re not intruding on me whatsoever…” he reassured, “Tell you what, I’ll bring you some clothes in a minute. Take a shower. There should be some towels in the bathroom, okay?”
You nodded your head quickly at which he took as a sign to leave the room and close the door behind him. Letting out a huge breath as he left. As you were showering a old and new blood from your wounds made it’s way down your body down the drain, the warm water making you sigh because of how good it felt. You couldn’t even recollect the last time you took a warm shower, it left you feeling great.
After drying yourself, you wrapped a towel lazily around your hips mindlessly walking around the room— checking yourself out in front of a mirror. Seeing if your chest was okay as you always did, the top surgery still holding up well even after a 20 year apocalypse, scars looked nicely healed. Until you heard some small knocks on your door. Clearing your throat you went; “Come in.” You grumble.
“Hey so- since we don’t have many clothes at the moment…I’ll be giving some of mine. We’ll give you some more down the road, don’t worry. Hopefully these fit-“ his word ramble coming to a halt as he walked in and finally looked up at you and your shirtless figure.
“Thanks. Think they’re a bit big on me as everything usually is but I’ll make it work.” You walked over, trying not to pay attention to the unbearable unexplainable tension going on for some reason. Taking the pile of clothes from his hands, snapping him out of whatever limbo he was in.
Tommy coughed, clearing his throat, “Of course, um, it’s no problem. You— you try them on and let me know—” his face was the equivalent to what a tomato looked like, looking away and slowly walked back to the door.
“Is there something I said?” You quirked an eyebrow at him, he was a blabbering mess.
Tommy scoffed before reaching the door; “Nah, it’s fine man. Get a good nights sleep alright? Need anything I’ll be in the next room.”
“Yes, huh, you too.” You scratched the back of your head as the door closed behind him, you stood there with the most bewildered expression you could conjure up.