Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The metallic clangs and grunts and shouts were nothing but white noise to you as you spoke over it. The club's regulars have gotten started as you were giving an introduction to a group the WLF took in this week.

"Yeah, so this is the gym. I'm Ashley by the way, everyone just calls me Ash. It's written outside, but I'm the one to look for —or Mark over there— if you want the gym key for after-hours. Our room is just past those doors at the end of the hall, the first one to the left. Ahh, what else. . . fitness club three times a week, us trainers host that-"

"She's our trainer?"

You only pinned down who said it when he at least had the gall to walk to the front after realizing he spoke too loudly.

You took a step forward to speak to him directly.

"One of 'em, yeah. And you are?"

"Alvarez, Manny."

"Is there something wrong, Manny?"

"Oh no, trust me. It was a compliment. I'll love coming to the gym if you're my trainer."

"Aww, well since you're so eager why don't you drop down and give me twenty," you said sweetly as if you were returning his flattery.

Luckily he didn't push back and dropped to the floor on your command. You caught the regulars hiding their smirks and laughter at hearing you crack down on someone, Mark gave you an approving thumbs up.

It wasn't too often you got a group like this, you've done one-on-ones with picked-up stragglers maybe once a month. And because they were around your age it felt even more out of place to be ordering them around like some drill sergeant. This guy had it coming though.

"Anyways, what was I saying. . . fitness club. Isaac recommends it if you want to get a workout regimen going. Especially you soldiers. But it's not mandatory. Just remember there are always at least two of us in here. So if you need a spotter or want tips, come to us for help." You paused and they nodded in understanding. "Alrighty. I'll show you guys around a bit more and let you have a free day to check everything out."

You went through the equipment and machines, letting the people working out be demonstrations. In passing you used one of their clipboards with their workout schedule written out to mention they could easily get one if they asked.

There were a few fancy things they'd never seen before which were perks of having the stadium. When you gave them an example you admittedly laid it on heavy to show you weren't a nobody telling them what to do.

She was watching you closely.

You don't know what it was, but she caught your eye since you'd seen her elbowing Manny in the ribs after finishing his pushups. She had dark blonde hair pulled into a short braid. Pretty, a bit stone-faced, but seemed to be the only one to show real interest in the spiel you were giving about the gym.

Wearing a tank top, you could see her frame well. Not every girl would take this as a compliment but she had nice, broad shoulders and an overall strong build. Appeared like the naturally athletic type. Even without much muscle on her yet, her proportions, plus her height, would make for a well-built figure. Potential.

Abby remembered you from the dining hall when they were getting a tour from the leader, Isaac. He pointed you out in the distance to say they'd meet you for a proper gym tour later that week. She was surprised you were young like her, maybe slightly older– more like Owen's age.

Now that you've officially met you've made an impression on her. You were one of the less intimidating people they'd been introduced to, more down to earth than the soldiers with superiority complexes, but still seemed tough-skinned like everyone in this place. And man, you could really push those weights. She was impressed and honestly a bit jealous.

To finish the tour you visited the locker room in the back where they can find anything from chalk to medicine balls to lifting belts and had to explain the big metal troughs used for ice baths. Then it was finally time to release them to explore and exercise as they pleased for the rest of the hour.

"Oh wait!" you shouted, regaining their attention upon remembering. "Before we start anything, we have to stretch."

"Stretch!" Mark and the others chorused your tone to a T.

"Ha. Ha."

You gave them all the finger and proceeded to the open area in the center to spread out.

During the stretches, you thought of other little things to mention like where to find the cleaning solution spray bottle to wipe down equipment after use and where the lost and found is. Then for real this time gave them the go.

"Your turn to DJ," Mark told you as he powered on the boombox and pushed the button for the lid of the CD insert to fling open.

"Comin' right up! Let's see. . . what're we feeling. . ."

You dug through the crate of music options pitched in by everyone, opting for one labeled "90's rap mix". The mood is always lifted with some music. When you hit play you were satisfied to see that the newbies liked the selection as they started nodding their heads.

By observing on the sidelines you could tell they were all a close-knit group of friends, with time they loosened up enough to stop walking together in a tight herd. You tried remembering their names as you overheard them, you've caught Jordan, Leah, Nick, Mel, and Nora.

"Abby, try lifting this," Manny called over that girl to hand off a dumbbell that looked much too big for either of them— a hefty fifty-pound one.

So that was her name. Abby. You haven't heard her talk much at all, other than to compliment how nice the place was. You watched as she fixed her grip on the handle, then leaned down with one hand and knee on a bench, she was going for a row.

"No way you can lift that." One of the guys whose name you didn't recall joined them by the weights.

You rolled your eyes at his attitude though he was joking around, it made you hope even more that she'd do it. Her form was good but shaky as she barely lifted it just once, still impressive.

"You try then, Owen," she retaliated.

He didn't do much better.

Manny caught how you watched their competition with amusement.

"What about you? Can you lift that?"

"Can I?" you said cockily and approached rolling your sleeves up.

Abby's eyes followed the prominent vein that ran from your elbow down the back of your forearm. Now that she noticed it, you were covered up, dressed in sweatpants and a baggy hoodie so your figure was indistinguishable. Yet somehow your wrists and hands looked strong on their own.

Manny grabbed another so you were both handling the same amount of weight.

"I win, you come with me to that big party Adrian's planning?" he proposed confidently.

You didn't expect a newbie to be in the know of those things yet, you could already tell he was going to be a pain in the ass.

"Deal," you accepted nonchalantly.

Flashing a look towards Abby, her expression changed from a resting straight face for the first time to a small smile, you think she caught on.

You let him choose to do bicep curls. He was confident for the first two, then his strength crumpled by the fourth. You went all the way to ten just to rub it in. His friends took the liberty of using your bragging rights to absolutely trash him.

After that interaction any shyness from first impressions disappeared and friendly conversation happened naturally. Most were going to be soldiers, some medics, and they brought a few elders too. You learned they'd traveled from Salt Lake City, Utah, leaving a group called the Fireflies.

"How come?" You asked without any thought and came to regret it instantly.

The mood shifted. Did everyone just take a subtle glance towards Abby? She was back to that neutral, stiff expression. You internally face-palmed, you should've known better when speaking to refugees.

Owen was the first to break the strain of silence, in a word he said they'd disbanded. To move on you told them how you got to the WLF, just shy of two years ago now, from a quarantine zone in Montana. Empathetically adding that it was easy to get comfortable here and you expected it would be the same for them.

You didn't realize how distracted you were until the music suddenly cut off making the room go quiet, Mark was signaling to his wrist by the speaker.

"Alright, club's over for today, guys. Obviously, you can stay as long as you need. We meet again same time on Friday. Come back or don't, I can't tell you what to do. Also, there's yoga tomorrow if you're interested, more about that is posted outside. Remember, don't be a stranger if you need help!"

Most of the gym ended up clearing out including the new recruits, they all left waving goodbye and thanking you.

"You did good," Mark complimented. "They looked scared shitless in the beginning but you brought them around. They seem like a good bunch."

"Yeah, I guess we'll see."

You were glad to see their faces again when they came to the yoga session the next day. You were sitting off to the side with a stack of workout schedule sheets you were writing out for the upcoming month.

"Aww, I was hoping you'd be our instructor," Manny pouted.

"Is this going to be a thing?" you asked with exaggerated annoyance, not caring to look up from your task at hand.

"Give up, she's way out of your league, dude," Abby told him, you saw her put a consoling hand on his shoulder.

They didn't catch when Hailey, the yoga instructor, was already taking her position up front. You pointed to where they could get mats and soon they were matching her poses.

She was just rolling along with the joke but you were still taken aback by Abby's comment. You found yourself watching more than working, knowing you shouldn't even let your mind wander there. . . but truthfully, attention from girls like her would be better than any guy like Manny.

Abby was the only one to suggest they exercise after and only managed to convince a few to stay behind. Manny, Owen, and Nora gathered around the dumbbell racks competing with the heavier ones again, not truly working out.

Meanwhile, Abby contemplated before picking up a 15lb weight and did her own thing. Watching how she sat down and positioned herself so her legs were spread as her arm hung between you guessed she was going for concentration curls.

It took a minute as she kept shuffling her footing and changing where her elbow rested against her leg before going for it. The form was there, but a little off, enough to make you want to help.

You let her finish her first set before approaching politely, "Can I give you some pointers?"

"Please." She welcomingly accepted.

"There's just a few small tweaks." You stood behind her, hesitating before touching. "You don't mind if I?"

She gave you the go-ahead so you grabbed her shoulders and told her to try again.

"See how you're rocking back, we don't want that. Keep your core tight and those shoulder blades."

She did a few more reps, quickly fixing the problem. Then you pushed the arm holding the weight lower. You walked in front, kneeling to be on level to see the change.

"There." You pressed on her bicep, to show how her arm was now positioned against her inner thigh. "Better?"

She lifted the weight again, you felt the muscle tense under your hand before letting go.

"Yeah, thanks."

She smiled, up close you could see the freckles stretch across her face. How did you not notice those deep blue eyes before?

"No problem."

You walked away knowing you'd done your job and helped, chewing the inside of your cheek, and telling yourself again:

Don't even go there.

But despite what you told yourself, a small part of you anticipated Abby returning to the gym the next day.

When the whole group returned in time for club they greeted you like an old friend. After stretching together at the start, Mark decided to do a warm-up activity with them while you tended to the others. Handing out the new workout schedules and doing a small catch-up with the individual, going over any changes or if they should keep at what they're doing.

Mark got to discussing what they wanted to focus on for themselves today and they ultimately split into smaller groups, spreading to different areas. Done with schedules you found a moment to sit off to the side and caught Abby's stare from across the gym. She was alone, sitting on a bench by the dumbbells, doing concentration curls again.

You gave her a thumbs up, mouthing, "Better."

She smiled and looked at the ground as she finished her set. You'll admit you let your watch linger over her. And just as you were wishing for an excuse to talk to her she waved you over.

"Can you show me some new ways to lift? I only know a few ways really."

"Totally. What do you know?"

Given the examples she listed, you assumed she was trying to work out her upper body. You ended up taking her place on the bench and lying on your back.

"With one, you can do this, a pullover." You held the weight above your face at arm's length and slowly let it down above your head. Repeating as you brought up some pointers, like where to keep your elbows pointing.

"Hand me another."

She went to fetch the other thirty-pounder.

When Abby stepped back, you suddenly became highly aware of how you were being watched. Of course, you were the demonstration, but still felt a jolt of nervousness under her gaze.

Abby instinctively wanted to look at your arms in action, but you were wearing a hoodie again. She could only imagine how they looked if you were able to do these like nothing, using a heavier weight than she was up to yet.

"And this is a chest fly," you said, getting into the starting position, holding the two weights together straight up in the air. Then did a few reps while explaining it.

You got up to let her try next. She did fine, there was no need to correct her on anything. You noticed how freckled her skin was, the tops of her arms were abundant with the little splotches.

"Thanks. I'll have to remember those," she said as she sat up, her face slightly flushed. "You make them look easy."

"Practice makes perfect," you replied humbly, subconsciously rubbing your arm.

"Heyyy, ladies." His accent made it obvious who it was. You turned around to see Manny, lifting a dumbbell in what you think was an attempt at being sexy. "So, Ash, I heard the party's on for next weekend, you comin' or what?"

"Your form is all wrong," you cut him off.

You were rough and forceful when you fixed his positioning and then signaled for him to try again. You nodded with an unimpressed look when it was satisfactory.

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Ma'am? I'm not that much older than you."

"Coach?"

"Better."

By the time you walked away, he realized you never answered his question.

You smiled at hearing Abby's laughter for the first time as she told him, "Face it, you don't stand a chance."

Chapter Text

You were lying in bed, surrounded by dirty dishes on the floor to make room for the books to go on your nightstand. You roomed in one of the box suites, your favorite feature is the big window wall where you can watch the livestock graze.

The sun was nearly set, leaving the room in a dark purple shadow when Mark returned from his shift. He put the key onto the hook and turned the lights on, your eyes winced since all you had on was your reading light.

"You literally haven't moved since I left."

"And what about it?" you retorted.

He laughed and went to his bunk to kick his shoes off. You flipped to the next page, the end was getting good, it was technically the third book of today; you finished off one to start, revisited an old favorite, and then moved on to the shorter novel since the night was still young. Your idea of a day well spent relaxing.

"You didn't even bother doing the dishes," Mark muttered, taking your mess to the sink, but not before flicking you, and started doing them.

"Oops," you said unapologetically.

You flew through the chapters, the remaining pages were getting slim when Mark started unhooking the dry laundry from the railing. Including yours, he was too nice, but still petty enough to chuck them at you and onto your bed.

You were unphased when a shirt was flung on your head, your eyes still scanned as you nudged it off.

"I almost forgot," Mark started, you glanced over the top of the pages to let him know you were listening, "someone was looking for you today. Damn, I forgot her name. One of the newbies, the tall one." You raised a curious eyebrow. He snapped his fingers trying to find something else. "The one with the braid."

"Abby?"

"Yeah, that one."

"She was? What did she say?" you asked, sitting up and shutting the book with your thumb inside.

It took a lot to make you quit reading like that. He gave you a funny look and nothing else.

"Just tell me what she said," you insisted.

"Why do you care so much?"

"Mark," you whined.

"She came in for club and asked where you were. I told her you weren't in today, then asked if she needed help but she said no. That was it."

You hummed and opened your book again, not taking in the words.

Locking up was on the last trainer out and if it weren't one of you, the key would reliably be returned to your room. It was kept on a hook right by the door, all people had to do was knock and ask for it. As for opening, you and Mark (not so evenly) split the responsibility.

You did Wednesday through Friday, the days you came into the gym as scheduled. You also ended up doing Tuesdays, since you liked going in early on your dedicated workout day. (Though you did enough activity by training others, it was still an extra step to ensure you were in top shape.) He makes up for the unevenness by promising to get up at night for anyone who came for after-hours access even though you were closer.

On the way to unlock the doors the next day you stopped at the library as you routinely did to return your finished books for the week. You had your Walkman playing in your ears, stashed inside your hoodie pocket, so you didn't take notice of the footsteps coming down the hall and into the library with you.

You were unaware you had company until a hand appeared, slotting a book into the same shelf. It startled you at first, but you realized it was just Abby. Then with the realization it was Abby, your heart had a delayed jump.

"You too?" you read her lips and then saw how they parted into a small smile.

You yanked the earbuds out of your ears and tucked them into your neckline. You were both holding a stack of books.

"Oh yeah, I read all these on my day off yesterday."

"So that's why you weren't at fitness club," she noted as she stepped around you to tuck a book away on a different shelf.

You didn't expect her to bring it up so upfront, though you intentionally mentioned it for that reason.

She stepped away to another area and spoke over her shoulder, "Hey so, I was wondering if you could make me one of those workout sheets?"

Your thoughts went racing. She knew she could ask the other trainers for that right? Or was it really you that she wanted in particular? Don't be ridiculous, you were the trainer she's talked to the most, so you were probably the most familiar option.

"Of course." You met again in the fiction section, emptying your hands of your last books. "We just need to talk about any specific goals you have before I can write it up. We can do that now if you want. I think I'll open the gym a little early today."

You started by stretching a bit and Abby followed your lead.

Simply "stronger" is what she emphasized the most. You assured her she would be no matter what, given the job she would be expected to do. You got to flesh out a plan that was on the lighter side but stepping it up from her current one with plenty of rest days. She mentioned officially starting soldier training. Those together would be a sufficient start to see how her body did with all the activity.

You started with some dumbbell exercises while you talked and Abby copied. Naturally, as it was the topic of discussion you looked over at her, studying her arms, shoulders, and waist, especially when it was in motion as your reps synced.

"I'll get that to you right away," you said, slightly out of breath.

"Awesome, thanks." She was huffing harder.

"Don't worry. I'll get you into shape— better shape." You winked.

She recalled attempting the same weight as you at the start, just to try it, and getting quickly humbled.

"Ah, I'm barely— I'm nothing compared to you. I need to get on your level."

"Pshh!" you playfully slapped her arm, testing the waters.

"Seriously, what are you hiding under there?" she reached over to squeeze your bicep.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" you replied with a safe amount of humor, leaning into her touch.

It made her laugh.

She let out a drawn-out breath before asking, "Is this your routine?"

"My full-body one, yeah."

"Well, let's keep going."

You learned Abby was a morning gym person like yourself but unlike her friends. And since it was relatively empty right after opening other than the fellow early regulars, you spent most of your attention solely on her. Giving her tips on her new workout regimen, guiding her through exercises you introduced. During that time conversation was easy.

You've read a lot of the same books. She had a sense of humor that made you laugh enough to work your facial muscles, so sarcastic and witty. Talking with her felt like you've known each other for ages, completely comfortable in each other's presence. She liked your energy, said it motivated her, and she was fueling you in return, though you didn't admit that out loud.

You wondered why she was so willing to say things like that to you. She wasn't afraid of touch either. You don't know if she was aware of it, or if this was the case with everyone, but she constantly showed small physical acts like a hand on the shoulder, a pat on the back, or a slap on the thigh. Once you noticed this you felt less hesitant to use your hands to emphasize the muscle she was focusing on or show how a certain movement should be.

The rest of her friends came in half an hour later or just on time for club days. She'd be mostly finished by then but stayed to act more as support during their exercise. Then you'd finally stray from her side and attend to the others, though you still felt yourself gravitated to her. Looking for her when you had nothing to do. Sometimes you'd find her already staring when you spotted her.

You didn't even realize at first that she came on a rest day, then again, just because you were distracted by how much you liked her company. You warned her not to strain herself, but she would insist she wasn't tired. A part of you was glad to know that meant seeing her another day, even if it was just for an hour or so. A small voice in your head took it a step further, thinking maybe she wanted to see you as much as you did.

The rest of the day almost felt dull after she left, you found yourself looking forward to the next morning. Did she think of you when she left, when she was at training? When you started thinking crazy things like that you shook your head as if it'd clear them.

For some reason, your brain forgot the gym wasn't the only place you could see her. You hate to admit how your stomach flipped the first time you happened to spot her somewhere else.

Like in the dining hall, that time she waved from the table she sat when you were standing in line for food. You didn't expect her to get up and walk over to you. She came to tell you she started that book you mentioned the other day and how she liked it.

Or when she found you in the library the next afternoon, when you were lying in a crazy, but comfortable reading position on two futons pushed together. Abby snuck up on you while you were engrossed in a book, scaring you half to death after shaking your shoulders and yelling "Boo!". She laughed in your face as you clutched your chest all wide-eyed.

Then all of a sudden she reached towards you, taking an earbud.

"No wonder you didn't hear me coming."

She leaned close to put it in her ear without yanking it from you, still smiling widely from her successful stunt. In the moment you could only look up at her with shock, your heart rate not getting a chance to recover from before.

You both ended up reading in the library for a bit. You offered an earbud to listen to the Chopin Sonata collection tape together, a dumb suggestion. Yet she dragged a bean bag close beside you to take you up on it. Normally you would've hated interruptions, but you enjoyed it when she paused to talk about moments in her book since you'd read it before. It was nice.

Though it was only a week of getting to know her, it felt like you considered the possibility more and more each day. All those little, what could be inconsequential, moments that made you question and daydream. When she'd go out of her way to pay you compliments while you'd demonstrate, say a surprisingly dirty joke when the thing you were teaching looked suggestive, or stare so intently at you with her blue eyes while listening to you talk about gym or non-gym-related things. Hell, she compared hand sizes after a prolonged high-five.

She was in your head so much you even started rambling about her in your journal next to your daily fitness entries. It reminded you of a feeling you haven't had in a while. When now and again a girl would catch your attention and sometimes it couldn't help but grow into a little crush.

The other trainers' teasing remarks about how much the newbie has seemed to take a liking to you didn't help but fuel the fire. Mark's comments further implied it, since he knew you too well to catch on, saying things like "you look good together". Even one of her friends, Mel, said it was good to see Abby was settling down easier with your help.

But you've gotten good at shoving down those silly infatuations, especially when you've learned how much of a long shot letting those feelings manifest was. You couldn't let them find out, you couldn't risk making things weird— like making them feel uncomfortable with you in the gym.

You hated the guessing games when it came to these things. It was easier to shut it down. You'd rather deny it and tell yourself to get real, your emotions were painting her friendliness as something more. Abby simply saw you as a new friend in this new place. You'll take friend, it was better than just trainer.

You had to get that through your head before more time passed and the crush became something you couldn't ignore. Yet by the weekend, you were tossing and turning at night, obsessing over the things she said and did, wondering,

Did you actually have a chance this time?

Chapter Text

After getting breakfast in the dining hall (they had your favorite, Saturday special pancakes) you headed to the gym. It didn't officially open for another few hours but it was your turn to do the weekly deep clean. Usually on the weekends the trainers weren't in, it was less busy so you handled other business and took turns doing certain tasks.

If you weren't cleaning today you would've done something like physical therapy with the elders, prepared the upcoming week of exercise activities for the kids, or taken account of inventory and borrowed equipment from the locker room. Mark usually handled the weekly report to be sent off to Isaac, writing a page typically saying that all is good, your soldiers are healthy and ready for the field, etc. Bad reports would look like: ringworm breakout, an injury like a joint dislocation or muscle tear, or how the stupid fire alarm is still broken and goes off randomly.

With plenty of time to pass you went to the library to browse for new books to binge read on your upcoming off day.

A part of you was counting on it, still, it was a pleasant surprise to see who was already sitting inside with a book.

"Hey, Abby."

"Ash, hey." She slit a piece of paper into the pages before setting the book down.

"That's a good one," you said, pointing to it with the gym key in hand.

"I didn't expect you to be in." She seems to have pinned down the days to expect you. She stretched her arms up in the air as she walked past you and into the hall. "I've been really liking the schedule you gave me. I was just passing the time before getting started."

"Oh, that's good to hear. But the gym's not open for a while. I'm just going in early for cleaning."

"I can't just slip in?" she asked.

"Isn't it a rest day anyway? You can't keep skipping them."

"I'll keep it light," she compromised, gravitating towards the gym doors, beckoning you to follow with each backward step she took.

You crossed your arms and stood your ground by leaning on the doorframe, hesitating with semiseriousness, "I don't know, people will think I'm giving you special treatment."

She gasped, sauntering back over to you with her hands behind her back, and a pleading look through her eyelashes.

"Sooo. . . you're not gonna give me special treatment?" she coaxed with a mischievous smile.

She left you speechless for a moment, you laughed out of nervousness. She held her stare. You pursed your lips and shook your head, knowing what she was doing was working on you.

"Just this once. But you're gonna help me clean."

"This is why you're my favorite."

She threw an arm around you as you finally followed her, giving in to her wishes.

"Oh, please. Kiss ass."

You shrugged her arm off as much as you wanted it to stay, biting back the smile while you focused on putting the key in the hole. You warned her this won't always work and explained that after-hours is better. Only a few people ask so it's usually empty. And reminded her where to ask for it.

This wing of the stadium was relatively empty at this time on the weekends so you were pretty much left alone. But it was too quiet, you needed to boost the mood to put in some elbow grease so you went to turn on the boombox. You let whatever CD was left inside play and tossed Abby a broom while you fetched the rest of the cleaning supplies.

Your mind entered work mode, quickly got into the groove of things, and practically forgot Abby was there with you. You were cleaning the floor to ceiling mirrors, stretching on the very tips of your toes then squatting all the way down as you wiped from top to bottom to get the least amount of streaks, subconsciously moving along with the music.

"Have Manny catch you dancing like that and he'd never shut up."

You saw Abby in the smudgeless reflection approach you from behind, passing by with the mop. You quickly stopped your hips from swaying and stood back up with a bounce.

"That guy. Worst part is I actually like him." You saw her eyes widen. "Not like that! Oh, God no! Trust me he's barking up the wrong tree!"

"Not your type?"

You laughed— more like cackled at that statement.

"I guess you can say that."

It was only for the mirror that Abby saw the look on your face, making her grow more curious.

"What is it then?"

"He's definitely not my type." You stalled.

She playfully punched your arm, insisting, "Come on, you can tell me."

You finally blurt out, "My type is girls."

"Oh." You couldn't read her reaction. "Well, that brings a whole bigger meaning of not standing a chance for him."

When nothing else was said, you focused on a spot that had no dirty marks, second-guessing your decision to tell the truth.

"Speak of the devil," Abby mumbled from the corner of her mouth.

You were actually glad to see Manny, walking with Owen, through the crystal clear windows. He tried opening the doors but they didn't budge. Habit. You went to unlock it and let them in, leaving the door propped open to let the smell of vinegar and citrus waft out.

"There you are," Owen said to Abby as he walked up to her.

"Told you we'd find her here. Morning, Coach. What are you doing here so early-"

You drowned out Manny's yapping to listen in on what Owen was telling Abby.

"Come on, you've been at it since we got here. It's our first weekend off after starting training, let's go spend it doing something fun."

"I haven't even worked out yet. And who says I'm not having fun?"

"Then what have you been doing?" he asked.

You averted your eyes when you noticed him exchanging a curious look between the two of you.

"Just hanging out," her tone grew a hint of defensiveness.

"Well, we were all planning on heading out after lunch and going to Adrian's party from there."

"Can I expect to see you at Adrian's party tonight?" Manny's voice finally reached you when their words overlapped.

You and Abby caught each other's eyes.

"Yeah, I'll probably go," you said, not speaking to Manny.

Abby nodded in acknowledgment.

"You're actually going?" Mark asked from behind his privacy screen.

"What I can't have fun from time to time?" you shouted back from your own, shimmying into some jeans. "So can I tag with you and Corey? I don't know where the hell Adrian throws his parties these days."

"Is it because that Abby girl is going?" he bypassed anything you said.

"You know what, I'll find it myself."

"I'm just teasing! I guess I'll let you third wheel." He let the sounds of clothing ruffling stretch before adding, "But I have noticed the two of you. Planning on making a move tonight?"

You both emerged changed out of your workday's clothing. You ignored him and paced while combing your mostly dried hair up into a loose low ponytail, giving it a break from being in a tight bun. Mark had his answer as he watched your uncharacteristic behavior as you fixed yourself in the mirror.

"You look fine," he assured. "Ready?"

You followed them through a stadium tunnel leading to an exit checkpoint for trucks, conveniently the guards stationed there turned blind eyes.

A set of directions were given; go left until you hit the eastbound highway, you're in the right place if you see an old graffitied taxi cab on the edge of the forest, from there ribbons were tied to branches.

You caught up with another group of people heading there who'd already pregamed hard, they clumsily carried a crate of jangling jars full of dark liquid. Eventually, the sound of music and people grew louder and the glow of the bonfires led you in striped paths through the trees.

You finally broke out into a big clearing, the standing walls of broken buildings enclosed the perimeters. There were well over a hundred people though it was early into the night. And it was only a matter of seconds until Mark and Corey got sucked into the crowd. Well, at least you knew how to get back on your own.

You roamed around until you found a familiar face. Another gym trainer, Becca, someone you haven't been paired with lately since she's started specializing in physical therapy for those recovering from injuries.

She just arrived too, so together you made it a mission to find where the alcohol was, then a place to sit warm by a fire. Soon with drinks in hand and more girls to hang out with, you made chit chat in yells over the blaring speaker nearby. It didn't take long for people to start forming a group around you, mainly desperate guys trying to get their fill for the night.

You downed the first bottle fast trying to quell the anxiousness slowly growing inside you. You surveyed the crowd constantly, checking who'd emerged from the treeline, searching for her. Nothing so far.

It only took another for you to get giggly and loose, add a shot of whatever someone handed you and it was a new goal to get on the dancefloor. When you got to your feet, some of the guys stepped forward in anticipation of winning your hand, but you pulled Becca up from her seat and led her away.

You danced a few songs, she wrapped her arms around your neck, and you put your hands cautiously on her sides. You swayed to the beat, sang along, and shared another bottle. Your mind, though it started to feel all swirly, didn't forget, you checked around still, in hopes of finding her.

"Ayo, you tryna steal my girl?" Her boyfriend pulled you by the shoulder, he was just messing around.

"Almost had her." You played along, but still out of respect took your hands off her and went for a handshake.

He wanted to find his friends and take her with so she took a last swig, drunkenly pulled you into a hug, and shouted a babbling goodbye in your ear.

That's when you spotted her, someone moved to create a slim window, and there she was, dead ahead.

Once Becca let go you were alone again, you stood for a moment, watching as she was facing to the side and laughing, looking pretty in the fire glow. The alcohol in your system made your feet confidently stride forward. If there was a chance to truly test the waters, in your current state of mind, now was the perfect time. For extra measure, you downed the rest of the bottle Becca left for you.

She glimpsed in and out of view behind the moving bodies blocking the path. You reached the person who initially moved to give you the view, too much in their own world to hear you say excuse me. You tried to force your way through, your eyes staying locked on your target, but someone crashed into you making you stumble to the side.

After finding your footing and looking up again you noticed something new. The arm around her shoulders. Whose? You couldn't see until another gap was made, revealing Abby and Owen sat hip to hip. Then he kissed her.

You stopped so hard in your tracks that you nearly flew forward on your clumsy feet. The sight slapped you back to a state of sobriety. And it wasn't just a little peck either, you had time to gawp slack-jawed before turning sharply on your heel. Not caring to apologize for shoving through as you got as far as you could in the opposite direction.

You kept walking until you got back into the stadium. In that time your mind went through all the emotions. Utter shock, confusion, pure disappointment, a burst of anger. Thinking how you could've sworn— God, you were an idiot to think it was possible and get your hopes up even for a second. Of course, she had a fucking boyfriend.

Once you got back to your room you dropped face first into your pillow. The tears were welling up, but you blinked them away. You refused to cry over a silly week-old crush. You jumped back onto your feet. Your heart was still pounding in your ears when you pulled a chair in front of the full-length mirror you had and got out your personal dumbbell set.

Mark came back to the room not too long after. You only glanced to make sure it was him and went back to staring forward in the mirror. You were doing rapid fire reps, caring more about burning off energy than proper muscle training. The music in your ears was blasting loudly enough for him to hear from the door.

He stood there until you finally paused and took the sound out from one ear.

"What?" you said with agitation.

"You saw them, didn't you?"

"Yeah." You continued the arm curls, shooting out short, hard breaths.

"I asked around. Apparently, they’re a thing. I had no clue. Owen never mentioned it. And I mean— I could’ve sworn she was— but I guess not."

"Whatever. She's off limits. That's that," you said unemotionally.

"You wanna talk about it?"

"There's nothing to talk about." You shrugged and shoved the earbud back in, ending the conversation.

Mark watched you for another minute, giving you the opportunity to change your mind. But you seemed dead set on dealing with the sting in your own weird way. He thought back to other times you've had this happen, always so quick to act like it's nothing. However, the longer the situation lasted, the harder you were on yourself.

Like the time you flirt with a girl for weeks only to be suddenly pushed away because she “wasn’t like that”. You fell into an odd phase of planking for minutes on end before bed. Hopefully, this was the only night you needed to blow off the steam. At least you found out sooner than later.

Chapter Text

You woke to the terrible alarm that was Mark gargling and hacking into the sink. You sat up, wiping the crust from your eyes then promptly laid back down because it was your day off.

"Don't forget you told David you'd cover him today," Mark reminded you.

"Ah, fuck me."

You forgot you took that up eagerly last week to find an excuse to see Abby. That backfired.

As expected, she came in along with the first people of the day. Your eyes immediately fell on her legs, she was wearing shorts. Right, you wrote legs for today.

"Hey you," she greeted, "what are you doing here on a Monday?"

"Hi. Wow, you have a good memory," you rambled nervously, "I'm covering David."

"Oh, I see. David. . ." she repeated under her breath, not seeming to recall who.

Abby approached the leg press machines while you stayed rooted where you stood, searching to see if there was anything or anyone else to occupy yourself with. But she looked back at you and nodded beckoningly like it was a given you were to follow her.

She remembered to stretch without you telling her to, then did some of the warm-up exercises you'd suggested, like variations of squats and lunges. Once she was ready to get onto a machine she looked between the two different ones before her.

"This one's a bit intimidating," you said about the angled one, "Let's start with the horizontal."

Abby chuckled as she was thinking the same. Then finally took a seat and lifted her legs to fix her feet onto the platform.

"What does this one target again?"

"Quads, hamstrings, glutes," you listed off.

"Sooo. . ." She looked down at her legs.

Your favorite thing about working with her is that she liked to know exactly what she was achieving during her exercise. She was a visual learner, and she wanted you to show her. This was your time to shine; it was your job.

"Here" —You outlined the whole top of her thigh with your fingertips, avoiding actual contact as much as possible— "and here" —Then traced along the center of the underside of her thigh— "and well" —You motioned toward it awkwardly— "you know where your glutes are."

"Right." She laughed lightly. "Thanks."

You had an internal battle of stare or not stare, you were only watching to see how she did, but you knew you were catching glimpses of more and more skin as her shorts rode up. Getting over your thing for someone didn't happen overnight, okay? But the guilt was still present.

She was going through the set fine, there was nothing to fix her on. You slowly began to inch away, thinking there was no reason for you to stick around.

But Abby started talking, drawing you back in, "I didn't see you at the party."

"Right." Man, could she be upfront. "I went but I didn't stay for long. Guess we missed each other."

"I guess so."

She went into her next set, updated you on finishing that book, and asked if you had any other similar recommendations. Talking to you like how she did before, normal friendly banter. Because that's all it was. She even made a dirty joke about glutes because that was just her sense of humor.

You didn't want it to feel different, but it did. You knew it was just a matter of time before you got over it and forgot. But right now you just wanted to get away until then.

Thankfully, someone called your name.

"Gotta go. Keep it up," you quickly dismissed yourself.

The rest of her friends arrived with time before fitness club started. You could kick yourself for being so blind. Owen was always hovering close by, the one to stand or sit beside her, touching her arms and waist, teasing, staring, and smiling. They weren't anything like Leah and Jordan's rather publicly expressive love, but you could see it now.

Good for her, good for her. Is what you kept telling yourself. And it was good for you too, nipping it right in the bud before you stupidly fell for the girl or something.

As the weeks flew by, Abby was consistent in the gym unlike any of the other newbies you've ever worked with. From what you heard she was a promising recruit and displayed the same rigid discipline in her soldierly duties. She would humbly recount what she did at training or first assignments, but you knew she was pleased with herself.

She was gaining strength quickly. Every week she was pushing past her limits, consistently aiming for higher. It was always, it could be more or it could be better. You'd joke that she'd be passing you up in no time at this rate.

Like you knew you could, you stomped down any of those silly feelings you developed. It helped when some of Abby's friends started coming in early with her so it wasn't just the two of you. Their jobs were starting to shape into regular schedules so their visits to the gym were becoming routine.

Isaac asked how they were settling in, calling them the "Salt Lake Crew", it became the easier and catchier way of referring to the not-so-new-now newbies. "The girls" as you liked to refer to them, Abby, Mel, and Nora came in early. Nick, Manny, and Owen, "the guys", would join anytime from the morning to noon. Leah and Jordan, "the love birds", came together in the evenings, after training.

The girls eventually came to you from the good word of Abby for a workout schedule and advice. The guys gravitated more towards Mark for their training, even Manny, who's mostly accepted you will never give him the time of day.

You'd say you got along with everyone who came in, but the Salt Lake Crew started to feel like real friends. People your age to laugh with, to feel like you weren't just doing your job in the gym, and to have a spot at a table in the dining hall.

Their attendance on club days varied, it mainly had to do with assignments conflicting with the time, but it was extra fun when they all came for fitness club.

For the first time in a while the whole crew came into the gym. And on a perfect day too since you brought a special treat. Just a little something you liked to do at least once a month for the club members.

They immediately took notice of the big jug propped on a chair that people were serving themselves from into cups or their water jugs.

"What's that?" Manny asked.

"Peach, strawberry, and blueberry protein smoothie."

You didn't need to say any more before they got in line.

Club had a slow start as everyone hung around to enjoy their treat. You didn't have a chance to eat breakfast when you were busy prepping everything, but while you were in the kitchen you managed to whip something else up.

Since no one would need your help anytime soon and your stomach was starting to grumble, you chose to eat your hard earned meal. You sat on the floor, prepared with a towel on your lap before unwrapping your food from its foil encasing. You got a curious stare from Manny.

"Ooh, where do I get one of those?" He asked, which garnered the others' attention and they stood around you in a circle.

"This is my sandwich," you replied.

Knowing it was going to be a mouthful to eat you cut it in half before. You showed off the cross section. It had beautiful, thick, colorful stacked layers of meat, cheese, and veggies. A sight that made everyone's mouths water.

You had to open your mouth wide to get a full bite. The slices of various toppings slid around immediately, dripping down your hands with juice. It was a masterpiece as you expected and exaggeratedly nodded and hummed with enjoyment.

They watched like hungry strays and you ultimately let them have a taste. But only the girls because you didn't want the guy's cooties (at least directly, considering some people). They rubbed it in as much as you did when they tried it.

"Alright now, it can't be that good," Owen said bitterly after Nora practically moaned over it.

When Abby took her bite she had to use her fingers to keep it from spilling from her mouth.

"Oh yeah, that's fucking amazing," she mumbled.

Jordan decided he would get a taste one way or another and tried grabbing Leah's face to kiss her. It gave Owen the same idea. Leah accepted defeat easily, while Abby on the other hand dashed to escape and covered her mouth to savor her bite fully.

Eventually, the boys got to share the few bites of your leftovers after you got full. Then the rest of the hour proceeded with high spirits.

You were spotting Chris when Abby was nearby and randomly blurted, "I'm going to be dreaming about that sandwich. What was that flavor? It was like herby and kinda salty-"

"The pesto?" you accidentally cut her off.

"Is that what it was?"

"Yes! Maggie told me they grew a shit ton of basil this season so I got my hands on some. Along with some pine nuts we harvested. Then I made it myself. The cooks let me take some of their grilled chicken. And Theo just pulled a fresh loaf of bread from the oven. Ahh, together I knew it'd go great on a sandwich!" you talked excitedly.

Abby smiled. "I didn't know you were such a foodie."

"I just take ideas from what looks good in cooking shows and recipe books."

"Well, do let me know when you make something else. I'll gladly be your taste tester."

"Me too," Chris chimed in.

Mel added, "me three."

"How about this?" you proposed to all of them, "First to make it on the leaderboard, I'll make something, just for you."

They were extra motivated that day.

Abby wasn't lying when she told you how much she loved your sandwich. Later that day, when she was out on an assignment, she worked up an appetite and thought about it. Just reminiscing on the bite pushed her to pick up the pace of clearing out the last infected in the building, earning her compliments from the higher-ups.

"Why don'tcha look at this one? You've been hitting the gym, haven't you?" one of them asked when Abby was able to move a heavy cabinet blocking a door on her own. "Got anyone training you in particular?"

When she told them it was you, they recognized the name yet referred to you as "Roadkill". Some sort of inside joke? Before she could ask they heard more runners and got back to work.

Abby heard nothing but nice things about you, well-liked and respected by everyone. You were familiar with many around the base, always mentioning people by name that she never knew.

The more she thought about it, she didn't really know a lot about you. You mentioned you came from Montana. Born and raised there? Did you travel to Washington with others? You must've. Parents? Gone in one way or another like hers? Why and how did you become a gym trainer? Did you ever want to do anything else, like be a cook in the kitchens? Your favorite color, pine or mint scented soap? She'd have to find out, she wanted to know.

After the long patrolling shift, she returned to the stadium later than usual, missing the first dinner. Her pale arms were tinted with dirt, her clothes felt grimy against her skin, and every pore of her body had sweated profusely.

As hungry as she was she wanted to wash up first so she went straight to her room to get her shower things before heading to the bathrooms. When she arrived there were people in a queue leading out into the hallway outside. It was never this busy.

Abby took place behind the last person and asked to be certain, "Is this the line to the showers?"

"Yeah, half are out of order so it's taking forever," the girl answered. "Sure there's the gym showers but the water pressure sucks and they're always freezing."

The people here must've gotten used to the luxury of cleanliness. Not too long ago it was scrubbing down in creeks or nothing at all. She can handle a weak, cold shower. Plus there's never been a time when she wanted to be clean so badly. So Abby went.

It was a few minutes until closing, but thankfully the gym was still unlocked. She walked through the gym and into the locker room, thinking she must've gotten extra lucky since there was no one in sight.

She heard water running as she got closer, so she knew she wasn’t going to be completely alone. She hesitated and peeked to see one side had individual showers with added privacy curtains. She’ll B line it to one of those.

When she finally turned the corner and fully entered the room she found one person using the furthest communal shower head. Facing away, arms raised while lathering up their hair.

Abby did a double-take. Her eyes weren't deceiving her. On one side of the body were tattoos. One across the buff shoulder and onto the back of the arm, another on the side of the sculpted calf, the biggest one covering the round hip.

She'd never seen anything like it, the tattoos— and the body. Her eyes couldn't help but scan, following the soap suds that cascaded down. Suddenly the figure was turning around. Abby froze with her eyes wide like a deer in headlights.

It was you.

Your eyes were closed as you tossed your head back to rinse your hair. Abby found herself stuck staring, but quickly came to her senses, and rushed into the nearest shower.

Your eyes flew open when you heard a noise, but there was no one there. You noticed the shower curtain waving and listened as best as you could through the sound of falling water around you. The shower turned on. Okay, not a ghost.

You finished up and shut the water off just as voices started echoing inside the tiled space. You swiftly put on your robe and began collecting your things.

"Aye, I'm leaving the key for whoever's last ‘cause I’m outta here!" you shouted on the way out.

"Heard!" Someone thankfully replied.

Abby didn’t want to answer, to not let you know she was there. Why? She didn’t know. She was just there to shower. But she did gape at you without you knowing then hid afterwards.

She shivered under the icy water, standing there, forgetting what to do in a shower. Her heart was beating out of her chest for some reason— like she was almost caught doing something bad.

Tattoos?! What else was there? If she wasn’t already curious, there was a lot more she had to learn about you.

Chapter Text

Abby focused on controlling her breathing, in through the nose and out through the mouth. She used the back of her arm to wipe the beads of sweat falling from her hairline down to her eyebrows. She maintained her spot at the front but started to fall back on this final lap.

You were leading the group at the very front a few feet ahead. Abby zoned out by watching your bun get looser and start flopping around more or watching a certain ripple of fabric that shifted consistently as you jogged. The thin grey hoodie you wore today formed a wet stripe down your back, it stuck to your skin from the sweat, outlining your waist more than usual.

Once you'd returned to the starting point, you shouted the finishing time for those following closely right behind. Abby and the other leading individuals, stepped behind you to make way for those incoming. You kept announcing the times as people finished at different paces.

She hunched over, putting her hands on her knees while catching her breath. She zoned out looking forward but snapping her head to the side when she realized she was staring at your ass. It was in front of her— but she was also trying to imagine your tattoos again.

Since then Abby found when you demonstrated things for her she let her mind complete the image she'd been missing. She paid extra attention to the clothes you wore. Not a day went by that you didn't wear a long sleeve and pants. The tattoos must have been the reason you covered up all the time. It was the only thing she could think of— after all your body looked like it was sculpted by the gods, nothing to be hidden.

She wanted to tell someone —anyone— about it afterward out of pure shock. Manny was the first person she saw once she came back from the showers, yeah, he was out of the question. When she met with Nora and Mel for breakfast the next day, she was still thinking about it but realized she couldn't just bring up the topic of seeing their gym trainer naked. She ultimately decided it was a secret she should keep.

The tattoo designs she couldn't remember that well. There was so much detail and over so much skin, and not enough time to take it all in. It was floral, that was all she could remember.

The worst part was there was no way to bring it up. She'd either have to explain why she oddly wanted you to show more skin or explain how she knew about them. She didn't think there'd ever be a chance and it drove her crazy.

You called the time once again when the final few arrived.

"Oh Ash," someone called for you in a sing-song voice, "I have something for you."

It was one of the field workers, the one you said to thank for being able to use the pathways through the crop fields for runs.

You gasped like she presented a ring.

It was a big, ripe watermelon.

She used a machete to slice it into triangle wedges and soon everyone was enjoying the fruit and taking a moment to cool off.

Manny and Owen were apparently busy trying to trip each other the whole run, causing them to be among the last comers. They continued with their foot games, trying to step on each other's shoes. Abby scolded them to stop messing around since they were kicking dirt in the air. They listened but moved on to a new contest of spitting seeds at each other.

Pestered, she distanced herself to avoid getting spat on and looked across the vast fields, stopping where she found you talking to that girl. You looked comfortable with whoever this person was, smiling and laughing.

You took a bite of your watermelon, the juice dripped down your chin. The girl seemed to notice and point. You lifted the bottom of your shirt to wipe it clean. Abby noticed the girl glance at your stomach.

"Whatcha doin'," Owen said into Abby's ear as he tried to follow her sight line.

You pointed to the girl's chest only to flick her chin when she looked down. Both laughing afterward, she twirled a finger around a loose strand of hair and continued talking like it was nothing.

"Damn, Ash. I see you." Manny commented, taking the other shoulder. "Maybe the rumors are true."

Abby could tell what Manny was suggesting between the two of you instantly, she was starting to wonder if that was the case.

"Rumors?" Owen asked with his mouth full.

"Well, first I heard she gives it up to guys who come for the gym key after hours. But then I heard she's into girls."

"Well, both can't be true at the same time."

That was the first she'd ever heard of such a thing. As for the other “rumor”, she had confirmation, perhaps it was a secret you entrusted her with. Abby rolled her eyes and swatted them away from her personal space since she was literally put in the middle of their conversation.

Telling them, "How about you mind your business."

You blew a short, loud note of your whistle and announced, "Club's over, good run today!"

Everyone started making their way back into the stadium. Abby looked back one more time. Seems like you were going to stay behind. The girl pointed to your hip, you patted it, then motioned around your shoulder area next.

Interesting.

Abby had never noticed that girl from the fields before, but now it seemed like she was everywhere she went. In the dining hall, on the way out to training, and now in the gym on club days.

The next fitness club session turned into an unproductive day of showing off and competing against each other. Abby was one of the few who stayed out of it and stuck to her planned schedule.

You weren't around to talk to like usual, busy spectating with the others or acting as judge for a contest. So were Owen and any of her other friends despite their encouragement to try and beat them. But eventually, Abby's attention shifted away from her weightlifting when you decided to join in on the fun.

You and Mark constantly tried beating your records, nowadays it came to splitting hairs. It had been a while since testing who could dead hang the longest. A few others joined but there were only so many bars people could hang from. Half didn't last past thirty seconds, after a full minute they started dropping one by one. Then it was only you and Mark left.

"That's three minutes!" the person keeping the time on the stopwatch shouted.

You were using bars facing across from each other, Mark would try to use some kind of stare to make you laugh. You knew this and you focused your eyes anywhere else but him. You caught Abby in the onlookers, she gave you a smile and an encouraging nod.

"How ya feelin' over there?" Mark tried being cocky but only revealed how strained he was feeling.

You talked back, sounding much more composed, "Fine and dandy."

You could see Mark's grip faltering on the bar. You couldn't help but smile at the feeling of victory too early. He decided to play dirty, kicking forward at you. His leg brushed down your hip, tugging your pants down to reveal a sliver of your stomach.

"Cheater! I'm still going to win!" You laughed, swinging your legs side to side to dodge his kicks.

He got you again, his shoe catching on the fabric and inching them down further. Abby saw a flash of the very tips of your hip tattoo, noticeable only because she knew where to look for it. She started making her way towards you, not thinking, just acting.

Mark went for another kick that you didn't evade. If you didn't want it to show, she'd make sure of it. Abby was about to lunge forward but a hand came in, pulling your pants up and tugging your shirt down for you.

At the same time, Mark finally accepted his defeat and dropped from the bar. You did the same after a few seconds of soaking up the win.

You were rolling your shoulders as you looked off to the side, thanking the person. It was that girl.

So she definitely knew.

Abby went back to her routine as a new contest was started, who could do the most pull-ups. Everyone wanted to see your attempt but you declined and sat off to the side for a rest. Overhearing you chatting with the others, including that girl, became a distracting, agitating sound.

She hoped you'd partner with her like usual. But obviously, she wasn't the only person you had to tend to, nor the only person you could choose to spend your time with. Still, your absence was noticed. It was throwing her off, an odd feeling, like her motivation being drained. But why?

A hand waved in front of Abby's face.

"Hellooooo, Earth to Abby," Owen said. “Did you see me? I lasted a whole minute!"

"Oh really? Good try." She half-heartedly complimented.

"I would've liked to see you up there. But you're too busy being a stick in the mud."

You've made it a habit to leave one earbud out when you were in the library to hear when Abby came in. You were anticipating her since it was Saturday and you let her know in advance you'd be doing the cleaning this time.

The echo of the doors opening and closing came from down the hall, followed by Abby's voice.

"I pushed 185 pounds yesterday."

"Yeah right," you heard Owen say unbelievingly.

You rolled your eyes. Why did he come? And what kind of response was that?

"Oh, whatever," she muttered, then spitefully added, "Ash knew I could do it."

"I'm sure she did," he said with an exasperated sigh.

Their footsteps came to a sudden halt.

"What the hell do you mean by that?"

You paused your music upon hearing your name. Owen started talking in a lower volume, you tiptoed from the back of the library to get in better hearing range.

"You've been spending lots of time in the gym. . . with her. Remember what Manny said? I don't know, maybe I'm just crazy, but I think she might have a thing for you." Abby scoffed in response. "Look, all I'm saying is I've noticed the way she keeps an eye on you-"

"You are crazy. It's her job. Plus I'm the one who asked her to help me and she has. A lot."

There was a fall of tense silence, you made it to the doorway, holding your breath. Leaning forward to catch every word because the heartbeat in your ears was so loud it was muting the noise around you.

"What is with you and this gym stuff?" His voice was soft but serious. "And taking training so seriously?"

Abby let out an irritated groan. "Can we not talk about this right now."

There was a lone set of footsteps, you were about to retreat, but they came to a stop again.

"What happened to skipping today? So we can make it with enough time to explore."

"You always want to skip.”

"But you told me you would go out with me today," he continued to talk more gently, almost pleadingly.

"Then I'll make it quick, okay?" Her tone shifted to a kinder one. "It won't take that long to get there will it?"

"Fine, make it quick."

You rushed to sit back down when they started heading your way, shoving both earbuds in, and opening a book at random. All to act surprised when they came into the library.

You couldn't believe you eavesdropped into one of their arguments. Part of you wasn't too guilty, you were a part of their conversation after all. But even if you hadn't, it was obvious they were at odds. It felt incredibly awkward standing between them once you got into the gym.

You noticed even more how Owen was staring you down when you'd barely glance in Abby's direction as you were cleaning. She told him to make himself useful and pick up a mop. You assured him he didn't have to. Abby started throwing petty remarks like suggesting he might as well get some work done while he's here, that maybe he could get some tips from you. He declined by saying he wanted to conserve his energy for the day ahead of them.

Now you were being roped into their bickering, this was the worst, despite how satisfying it felt to be subtly defended by Abby.

"Busy day today?" you asked, trying to ease the tension.

At the end of their conversation you got lost, this must've been what he was talking about.

"Our date." He emphasized the word like he was trying to gauge a reaction. "Except this one doesn't know how to give herself a break. But I'm sure you've been able to see that, right?"

You wanted to get out of this situation. You didn't want Owen to look at you as competition. So you sided with him.

"You know he's right. You should be taking your rest days more seriously, Abby."

Then decided she was officially kicked out for the weekend. You told her it was for her own good and to go have fun on her date. She seemed shocked but didn't resist.

You locked the door up behind them to finish cleaning. Owen led her away with his arm around her shoulders and looked back to give you a thankful smile. You hoped he'd think again about his suspicions. But also that you didn't let Abby down too much.

Chapter Text

Knocking at your door woke you up.

You groaned Mark's name, but no movement.

It came again, only two soft taps this time.

Right, he wasn't here tonight. Just great. You forced your feet onto the floor and stood up. Stumbling to the door, you pat the back of it, searching for your robe. Right, that wasn't here either. Laundry day.

You grabbed the gym key off the hook and cracked the door enough to outstretch your hand with it.

They weren't taken from you though.

You opened the door more to peek into the hall.

"Abby?" you croaked out, wiping your eyes to make certain of it.

She looked unusually smaller, slouched and hugging her arms tightly, scanning the hall up and down.

Had it not been for your voice, she would've thought she had come to the wrong door despite double-checking the nameplate outside. You almost looked unrecognizable in a tank top and pair of shorts. Your hair, always pulled back in a tight bun, was down around your shoulders.

"Umm. . . Did you want the gym key?" you asked awkwardly.

It was the only reason you could think of her being at your door this late.

She's avoided looking at you. When she glanced up from her downcasted stare for a moment you could see why. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and nodded.

"Right, the key. Yeah. Can we go for a bit?"

You felt like you asked the wrong question and that she answered with a fake response.

"You- you want me to come?"

"Maybe you could tire me out." She chuckled weakly. "I'm restless."

You looked back at the clock. Your body was still weighted with sleep. There was no way your clothes were dry and all you had was on your back. Thanks, you, for procrastinating and leaving laundry until the end of the day. At least there was no wait for the wash tubs so late.

"Please?"

She must've seen your apprehension.

You couldn't say no to that.

The halls were dim since fewer lights were on at night. Every footstep and sniffle sounded ten times louder in the emptiness. You rubbed your arms, it was chilly. And you were becoming very aware of the skin you were revealing. She didn't mention anything, not yet, at least.

Abby didn't know why she was clamming up at the perfect opportunity to ask about them. She did take all the time you spent walking in front of her and unlocking the doors with a yawn and stretch to take in the details. A pretty medley of flowers with leaves that spread across your skin, accentuating the bends they flowed over on your body.

She went straight for the bench press, putting on the weights until it was 185lbs. You went to stand by her head when she lay down on her back, getting into position to catch the bar if needed. Looking down made you aware of how your coldness showed through your tank top. You crossed your arms over your chest, confident she would lift it just fine anyway.

You were still in a daze from suddenly being in bed to being at the gym. You were still trying to make sure you weren't in some weird dream but she was really in front of you. Oddly quiet, taking her reps slowly and precisely. She had a different focused stare than usual. Sharp despite the sad, puffy eyes.

She went until failure.

"Nice," you commented.

She sat up, her shoulders rising and falling heavily as she slumped into her hands.

"It's not enough."

You scoffed with genuine disbelief.

"What are you talking about? You're great. You've improved like no one I've ever seen."

She only shook her head in frustration.

You knew she took her fitness seriously, but this wasn’t just about that. Despite how familiar you've become you have yet to learn the real things that made her her. She’s always had a well-kept distance that left the deeper parts of her a mystery, like things before joining the WLF.

You could tell she's had to deal with something, like most who've had to survive to get here— like yourself. Though you’d never pry, because fairly, you haven’t told her everything about yourself. Were you at least going to hear what had her in tears and sleepless on a night like tonight?

You moved to her front, kneeling to talk to her. You hesitantly put a hand on her knee, giving it a playful nudge.

"What is it? You can tell me."

She turned away, dabbing at the corners of her eyes, more upset at herself for not being able to stop the feeling of her throat tightening. She put effort into making the words come out unaffected by it.

"Owen and I broke up."

You had no clue what she was going to say and that was still the last thing you expected. You anticipated tears as you tried formulating a response, comforting girls over their boyfriends wasn't your forte.

But there was no need. She lay back down, her stare reentering that deep focus as she blinked away the glossiness that formed.

"He was just holding me back anyways," she said coldly, then started her reps again.

You knew all of the Salt Lake Crew had good remarks, including Owen, but he was average compared to Abby, who on the other hand was an overachiever. Yet you didn't peg her as some diehard soldier for an organization and cause she just joined. And this wasn't about Owen. There was something else lighting this fire.

"I need to be" —she growled, struggling pushing the bar up— "stronger."

You helped her the final inch onto the rack.

"What? Like bulk up?" you said it like it was a crazy idea.

"You think I could?" she asked with complete seriousness.

"Totally."

"And you can help me do that?"

"Of course."

A different look flashed in her expression. Somehow more determined. She went for another set, finishing stronger this time.

Her tears dried up as fast as the heartache seemed to subside, replaced with a new feeling just as intense. You wanted to know what was going on her mind as she intuitively breathed in and out while the cogs in her mind still turned. Why she wanted you there for it? Either way, you felt lucky to be chosen and happy to be of service.

It didn't take long for her to start breaking a sweat. That's when she finally noticed you shivering and rubbing your arms to generate warmth. Without a word, she took off her sweater.

"You don't have to-"

"You need it more than I do."

When you finally took it her gaze fell over your body. You just knew it was coming.

"I have to ask. . ." Abby began as you expected.

"This was my first one. I got it pretty soon after I joined," you explained as you rubbed the inked area of your calf, then twisted to show the back of your arm, "and I got this one soon after." Then inched up your shorts to show the other. "As for my hip, I got the outline done a few months ago. I'll get the rest done eventually, she just hasn't had time."

"There's someone who does tattoos here?"

"Maggie, she's a friend of mine who works out in the fields, I don't know if you know her. She also cuts my hair. She kinda keeps it on the low though— the tattoos. It's technically not against any rules, but it's not something Isaac's the biggest fan of."

Abby nodded, she knew exactly who you were talking about. Inside there was an odd sense of relief. That explained things.

"Well, they look great. Why do you cover them?"

"Honestly? At first, I hid the first two because I didn't want to get into any trouble while I was still new. But by the time they were fully healed, I was used to wearing layers. Then it felt like if I suddenly showed them it'd be too big of a deal. They aren't a complete secret, I know I can't hide them forever, but most don't know."

“I didn’t know you were such a rebel,” she teased. You rolled your eyes as she smirked, letting herself inspect your skin with no secrecy. "I guess I should consider myself lucky then."

"Uh-huh. Thanks again, for dragging me out of bed, asshole."

You finally spared yourself from the icy cold of the night —and Abby's open staring— and pulled her sweater on. It went down below your shorts so it looked like you had nothing on under. Your goosebumps went away almost immediately since it retained her heat.

She laughed. Seeing you in her clothes made her smile as you pulled it tight around you and rubbed your bare legs together.

"You can use this time to get back at me all you want. Tell me what to do."

You pondered it, tapping your chin in thought.

"Drop and give me twenty. No, fifty. I could be sleeping right now."

She went hard despite the late hour and having been worked to death earlier in training. Abby followed your instructions and went above and beyond. She didn’t speak anymore about Owen or anything else for that matter. You respected that and didn’t pry any further.

You were fighting the heavy feeling of sleep creeping in by trying to match her energy, talking her through when she was struggling, or praising a good set. It was hard not to keep checking the clock on the wall, but when an hour nearly passed, you were starting to wonder when she'd get tired.

You didn’t want to complain or be the one to end it, so you eventually found a spot to lie down. A comfortable distance from where Abby was doing floor exercises, noticeably less energetic but still in the zone.

After the final set, Abby lugged the medicine ball she was using to the side and laid flat on her back with her arms spread. The stress and tension in her body and mind have dissolved, at least for the time being. She was catching her breath when she looked over at you.

Your cheek was smashed against your arm, your mouth parted open, curled up on your side with your knees shoved into her sweater. Now that it's gone quiet without her movement, she could hear your light snores.

She watched for a moment, thinking how crazy she was for making you be here with her so late that you were asleep. Yet you came and stayed. It wasn't what she planned. She ended up at your door by remembering the way to find it, but the key wasn't the reason why. By the time she knocked, she realized she didn't know exactly what she came for. Comfort? Whatever it was, it worked out in the end. You— or at least this late-night session helped.

She whispered your name but you didn't budge. She stretched all the way to her fingertips but fell short, so she rolled over to gently shake your shoulder.

"Shit, sorry," you mumbled after you woke, startled to see her closer than you remembered.

"It's okay. How about we call it a night?"

When you locked the doors, it echoed through the vacant halls. The sound of silence seemed to rise afterward. Taking a last look at the time, it was past midnight.

"So. . . you still restless?" you asked.

"No, I feel better. Thanks for staying up with me— or at least trying."

"What do you mean? I was totally wide awake the whole time." Your words were slurred and your blinking was practically in slow motion.

"Do I need to carry you to bed?" she joked.

"Eh, I think I'll make it."

You both laughed in a deliriously lethargic way.

"If you say so," Abby said with a yawn, "Goodnight."

So you really did help, that's good.

"Goodnight.” You walked only a few steps before turning back around. “Wait! Before I forget."

You returned her sweater and crossed your arms tightly when they were reintroduced to the frigid air. Before turning again, you paused for a moment as it looked like she was going to say something.

"You look amazing," she blurted and looked shocked at the words that fell out of her own mouth. Then quickly tagged on. "What I mean to say is I'm glad you're training me. I can't wait to get on your level."

You subconsciously covered your arms more, it only accentuated your upper frame and before unseen cleavage. You’ve never seen her so flustered, it was amusing to watch her panic. She couldn’t even stand to look at you at all after saying what she did.

"Oh, I can't wait to see how you turn out," you admitted, taking a turn at doing the staring.

Until now have you fully taken in that she’s been in her bra this whole time.

Abby smiled bashfully at the floor.

"See you in the morning?"

You laughed though you knew she wasn't kidding.

"See you in the morning."

Chapter Text

4 YEARS LATER

"Straighten those legs. Keep it tight. Hold it," you said less like an enthusiastic cheer and more like a stern order.

Abby's reddened face was all scrunched up, brows furrowed, and teeth bared. She felt big beads of sweat roll down her spine as time felt agonizingly slow holding herself in an L-sit position. Her hands were sore, her arms felt like they were about to give out, her core was on fire, and her legs were starting to tremble.

She was in shorts and a t-shirt with the sleeves and sides cut off so deep that they left large windows of skin. Something you immediately noticed, no bra. Interesting choice considering she'd flashed you at least a dozen times tonight. Though you didn't bother to say anything because you knew she didn't care if you saw. This was far from the first time.

At least with her body so exposed you could see how nicely her muscles were engaged from head to toe.

"Good," you praised. "Right there."

"Hah— how much longer?"

You didn't answer her. She'd gone past a minute like she aimed for, but you knew she could do more. You only watched as she pursed her lips tightly and clamped her eyes shut, fiercely determined to hold out. The rhythmic breaths out her nose were shaky, the only noise in the room besides the hum of electricity.

You could see her stability falter and taunt in a sing-song voice, "Uh-uh, you're not done yet."

She gave it her all for a few more seconds then let out a loud groan that she couldn't help before finally dropping down to the ground.

You clapped. "Holy shit, that was great! Guess how long that was."

She was still trying to recover from the unique form of torture she just went through, flexing her fingers and rolling her wrists. "Man, I don't fucking know. Just fucking tell me."

You always found it funny when she was so tired that anything came out of her mouth, usually rude cursing she didn't truly mean. You tossed the stopwatch into her lap. It took a moment of sitting back on her hands with her head hung back before she finally picked it up to read the time.

00:01:19:07

She cocked her head lazily in your direction, giving you a forced pained smile. You've been rooting for her from the sidelines, sitting on the floor using a bench as a backrest, and looking too comfortable in her opinion.

"Your turn," Abby said as she crawled to her feet.

"Nuh-uh, I'm tapped out."

Still, she looked around for something to make you do and rolled a bar left on the floor loaded with weights she used before over your legs.

She stood at your feet with her arms crossed. "Let's see it."

You rolled your eyes but started getting into position for hip thrusts. It didn't take much since you were mostly there, only fixing your shoulders against the side of the bench and planting your feet.

You lifted your trunk, doing the first set in a breeze, then briefly pausing before entering the next. You stared straight at her, but her eyes were fixed on your lower body.

In the middle of a thrust with your hips in the air, she took the barbell, saying, "You're not suffering enough."

You laid your head back and kept your hips lifted (sitting on the hard floor was starting to hurt your bottom anyway) waiting for whatever she went to get. Thinking maybe she'll stack rice bags as you did once to her, you rested your eyes though you weren't tired yet. It was getting pretty late, but you've gotten better at staying up. It helped when she was still her energetic self even after a busy day of assignments and training. But clearly, it wasn't enough to tire her out. Sometimes you'd join in for the hell of it, though you don't think you could ever truly match her stamina. This girl had you working overtime.

Suddenly a new weight was on top of you with no warning, making you plummet for a second before you braced yourself. Abby straddled your hips and kicked up her legs so her full body weight was on you.

"Abby!" You instinctively reached out for her sides, your hands meeting directly with her moist skin, hot to the touch.

The loose front pieces of hair and her long braid swayed over you as she leaned forward, looking down at you with a grin, still panting from before.

You know what she was expecting of you. So you continued, putting your hands behind your head, unable to try meeting her eyes this time. She was drumming her fingers on your stomach and unhelpfully shifting from side to side. This wasn't too hard, but you already felt a sweat going.

After finishing the set, you expected her to end the bit and get off. But she stayed sitting in your lap with that smug, satisfied look on her face. She wanted you to keep going. She used a sweetened tone to encourage you when you hesitated to lift her again. She was really testing you tonight.

Within the second thrust, you feel your hips stutter on the way down.

She teased, "What? Can't handle all this?"

"You are massive," you snarled, pushing up.

"That's what she said."

"Ah, fuck you."

"It looks like it doesn't it?" she said, visibly enjoying getting a rise out of you.

You laughed which only made it harder, but it did.

She knew you were too stubborn and competitive to back down. You focused on the bow made from the drawstrings of her shorts, watching it go up and down. You feel more shaky than usual, you'll blame it on the fact that it's almost two hours past your bedtime.

Just a few more thrusts in something inside you stirred, it made your hips buck on the way up, causing Abby to inch forward on your pelvis. The pressure building in your stomach was making you feel weak. You apprehensively attempted another, less controlled as you lifted her while the feeling churned right where she was sitting atop. Then on the way down again the sensation suddenly peaked, making you go completely limp.

You meant to say "Get off" but your voice caught in your throat. Instead, you let out a guttural sound of the first syllable. And dropped down on the floor, bringing Abby with you. She fell forward into you, not expecting you to actually fail.

If you thought you couldn't feel any more hotter under your sweater, your whole face and neck felt like it was on fire. That feeling deep in your stomach when Abby first got on top of you was something you wished you could suppress. But never had you felt like you got so worked up. . . Oh, you've felt that kind of burst before, but never in the middle of working out. And much less, around her.

While you were in shock and recovering, she was still in your lap, laughing into your shoulder before pulling away and laughing some more. She wasn't the cause, at least entirely you hoped, but it didn't help, feeling her against your body so heavily.

When she finally got up, Abby commented with the same provocative tone as before, "Guess I was too much for you."

As you went to stand your legs felt like they weren't going to support you. Abby offered a hand to pull you up.

"You good?" she asked with slight concern, noticing your shift in demeanor.

"Yeah, just tired," you half-lied.

"Me too. I think it's time to wrap it up for the night."

You started tidying the things you'd left about but despite what she said, Abby went the opposite way of the doors and to the mirrors instead. Ever since you showed her different ways to pose to show off her arms and back, she liked doing it. When you were by yourselves you noticed she did it for longer, letting herself stare more freely and self-indulgently.

You couldn't blame her, she was a sight to behold. Her physique was to die for. Her big buff arms and shoulders were gorgeous, her back was chiseled beautifully, and her powerful legs had thighs that could crush skulls. She was built like an ox, built to perfection.

You tried to limit how long you looked, but sometimes, it was nearly impossible when she'd make eye contact with you from the mirror—like it was some kind of show for you. She was doing it now, with low-lidded eyes, and cast in shadows that only made the bulge of her muscles look even better.

You walked over to her once you'd returned the final weight plate on the rack, disappearing behind her figure for a moment before your hands came back into view. Caressing her shoulders from the neck down, your fingers going slower over her traps. You weren't trying to teach her something about anatomy or fixing her form, this was solely for your own guilty pleasure.

She didn't show any objection, it wasn't weird or uncomfortable. You'd even go as far as to say she welcomed it, relished in your wordless admiration. Her skin was cool now. Your sight followed your hands as they kept going, following the cut of her shirt and down her back. But once you got to where her bra should've been you went back to the skin you felt more safe touching, her arms. Dragging more slowly down her biceps, feeling how she was still flexing.

You peeked around to look at her through the mirror. "Good work tonight."

"I think I deserve a reward." She smirked, her voice was like velvet.

"Hmm." You pretended to think, getting her hopes up, then told her, "Try again when you get to a minute and thirty."

Once you parted ways for the night you stopped by the bathroom. When you pulled down your pants you weren't surprised to see how your underwear parted with a thick string of your wetness. Something you hated to admit was sometimes it was the case even without that happening. You'd only ever heard some other female trainers talk of a "coregasm", you didn't think it was actually true.

You felt guilty like you were crossing a line right under her nose. You were aware of how you watched her exercise, breathing heavily, shining with sweat, and having to sit with your legs crossed tightly to quell that feeling down there. But then again, she'd be the one to pull crazy moves like that, having you touch skin to skin, be nose to nose, and act in ways that had you in a nervous sweat.

Sure, you contributed your fair share when it came to pushing the boundaries of your friendship. You never stopped her, you never told her seriously to quit her shenanigans. In truth, you fed into it by saying and doing the things you knew would invite it. You'd complain of the heat, fanning yourself with the collar of your sweater. Abby would then try coaxing you out of it, reminding you "It's just the two of us", persisting on it by saying you were making her feel hot just by seeing you in it. When you'd finally ditch the layers, she'd make a deal of it, "There she is" or a catcalling whistle.

It was also easy to say sexually charged one-liners when you've heard each other make every noise in the book. And when your bodies were the focal point of the time you spent together, revering gazes and intimate touches lingered. It became your normal, but that didn't mean the effects neutralized. Your skin still felt like hot static where she came in contact as you climbed back into bed. You'd somehow find yourself restless despite it being past midnight. All because of how she'd act when it was your special time in the gym to yourselves. You start pondering stupid things like: what if you decided to go knock on her door one night, pleading for her attention in a different way? A way you shouldn't from someone you call a friend.

What was deemed appropriate and inappropriate when it came to you two anyway? It's all become so muddled up. You won't bother asking yourself "Since when?" because she's had you questioning everything from the very beginning. You knew it and yet you let it drag on, let it happen. It's pathetic how excited you were to hear Mark tell you "It's Abby" when he answered the door. Because you knew, it was always during after-hours sessions when you got to push the limits further and further.

"Ugh, I'm still sore from what you did to me last night," Abby said, rolling her shoulders with a burrito in hand.

You were making it through the busy lunch rush in the dining hall when she talked loud enough to make the group of guys nearby snicker. You were in the middle of sipping from your cup and almost choked on your water.

"Jesus Christ, you can't just say shit like that," you scolded. "That's why everyone thinks we're lesbians."

She kept her voice low, speaking out of the corner of her mouth, when she replied, "Well, they're not half wrong."

It's not like it was much of a secret anymore. Eventually, people started wondering why it was you only danced with girls at parties. One night and too much alcohol confirmed the rumors when you got a bit carried away, making out with a girl in front of everyone.

You went past the tables and out the dining hall, the typical downtime routine. You'd get lunch then hit the library or go to your room to watch tapes of cooking shows on the TV. When Abby needed to leave for assignments or training, it was about time to head back to the gym or the classrooms for P.E. with the little ones anyway. With exceptions like being stationed out somewhere, which she'd reliably inform you of beforehand, you could count on seeing her on a near-daily basis. Whether it was at the gym, in the places you knew to find the other, or when she came knocking at night.

In the beginning, there was a natural curiosity about how the two of you have become so close so fast. Abby was teased for becoming somewhat of a teacher's pet. Then people found out about your personal sessions. She had beat the record for leg press during one of those late nights. You hesitated to write it then and there but she made you while she was glowing with pride. The overnight change of the leaderboard didn't go unnoticed. She got ragged on even more for getting "special treatment", only because she was still considered a newbie, but she took it like a champ.

Then came the rumors, sparked by the existing one about you, and fueled by her behavior interpreted by others as attraction towards you. You paid it no mind since it was just silly drama everyone would eventually move on from. Until one day, during fitness club, Danny, that aggravating dumbass, asked straight to your faces. Purposefully loud for all to hear, he was only trying to embarrass you because you'd given him shit for messing with equipment like a child. You remember how fast your face heated up, hoping it didn't show, you shut it down instantly. Abby laughed it off, thinking it was funny to be extra dirty-minded that day.

With her sarcasm, she'd never truly deny it when asked. To this day you get people thinking you're a thing. You told her to stop giving people the wrong idea, joking she was scaring away any chance of you getting laid. She'd say she is doing no such thing and proceed to crush you in a one-armed hug. You'd scoff and push her away with equal force, secretly feeling a flutter in your stomach. You had to remind yourself it was just her sense of humor. She displayed this kind of behavior since you first met. And it made sense, looking at one of her closest friends and roommate— that total womanizer, Manny. After breaking up with Owen you had to wonder if she was the same, as, gregarious, you'll put it.

In your eyes, she was pretty enough to get any guy's attention. However, that didn't end up being the case, much to your relief, not that you would've been lumped in with the competition. But she wasn't as emotionless and cold-hearted as she appeared at first glance. Although less than him, you could tell she was hurt for some time after. You didn't take it Owen was just a fling, he was an important person to her even though they didn't work out in the end.

They were on good terms, better off as friends. Though he kept a watchful eye on her, still trying to protect her from afar. He had you figured out from the start but ultimately seemed to trust you with her. As much as you hated to admit it, he wasn't all that bad, and learned to have more in common than you thought.

In time, you heard more about the Fireflies and why they had to abandon ship, the group was allegedly no longer after a major attack. You heard different stories, like one that involved a single man though you found that hard to believe. You never really tried asking Abby or any of them, not when the wound was still fresh, and eventually forgot to find out, what mattered is they were here now.

It did help you understand why they kept so close, they experienced great losses together. Owen was courteous enough to tell you of the grief she hides well, he just wanted to make sure she had someone to be there for her if it wasn't going to be him. It was a while before Abby brought up her dad on her own. Randomly, bit by bit. He didn't make it here with her, killed is as far as she explained. He was a doctor. She carried many of his traits like that cute coin-collecting habit.

The Salt Lake crew stuck together but also found a family and a home with the WLF. Nora advanced in Medical, Manny made a reputation for himself exactly as you envisioned, Jordan and Leah were still going strong, and Owen was with Mel now.

Abby hadn't gotten into any new relationships whatsoever. She liked to say she dealt with enough dating drama between you and Manny. You didn't get as much action as she exaggerated and certainly not as much as Manny. You haven't found yourself a girlfriend though you had a few short-lived chances in the slim dating pool. They simply didn't work out, they just weren't "the one". Every once in a while you went to a party, got lucky, and found a girl to dance and flirt with until it ended in one of your rooms.

You've managed to make yourself known as a strict giver. It had all the girls who didn't want anything but the chance to experiment to throw themselves at you. Mix desperation and enough alcohol and sometimes you'd allow it. Just a body to let out your built-up lusts, at least try to satisfy your libido. You'd find a way to end it before they tried returning the favor. You felt too ashamed because the truth was you'd remember who you really came to the party for. It was wrong to accept their touch when another face was at the forefront of your mind.

Abigail Anderson.

The girl who was popular and respected. Everyone wanted to be on her good side, in her squad; if not, they were jealous and/or intimidated. She worked harder than anyone you knew and it paid off. She became one of Isaac's most impressive soldiers. He recognized the qualities you did from the start, ambitious, resilient, and strong as hell. You were also promoted alongside her due to the high praise and credit she gave you. Now held responsible for training the toughest of the tough.

You and Abby are a power duo, the most dependable gym partners, book club of two, the best of friends. You're at the top of your games. Things are good the way they are and you should never think of changing it.

Chapter Text

It's been a particularly long, boring day. Abby hasn't been around at all. You didn't think too much about it, most likely caught up with something, you just hoped she was safe. You were locking up alone and with nothing else to do but wait around, you had no choice but to listen in to the conversation between the group of soldiers that came into the gym less than an hour before closing.

It started as mundane chatter, the kinds of burritos they had for breakfast, how they looked forward to drinking this weekend. Then you really started paying attention when it changed to a discussion about the truce Isaac had forged with the Seraphites, or excuse you, Scars. Specifically how they don't see it lasting any longer. That you can agree with, but for different reasons, so you bite the inside of your cheek to save controversial remarks that would do nothing but start an argument. Then it turned dark and vulgar as they began with their stories of how they "cleaned up" a street earlier that day.

"I got that fucker down on his knees. Dude, you should've seen it! His face was practically gone after I-"

"Guys," you warned, "come on, not here, please."

"Oh, sorry. I forgot we had a stadium-sitter here," he said, fake-apologizing.

You rolled your eyes at the stupid name they called you, someone who stayed home taking care of things in the stadium while the "grown-ups"— soldiers went out. You know their first comeback would be to call you soft, but at least you knew you rested easier not having to do killing on someone else's command.

"Nah," one of the guys started, the newest of them all, the most trigger-happy, "did he not deserve it? Would you not have killed that Scar?"

With hesitation you hoped they didn't detect, you replied, "I would do whatever it takes to protect our people."

He chuckled. "Spoken like a true politician. Now what would Isaac's Top Scar Killer say about that?"

You hated that name too. And why did it matter what she thought? Before you could retaliate, the one retelling his gory kill interjected, "Hey that reminds me, Abby wasn't at training. Where is she?"

"How the hell would I know?" You shrugged, irritated.

"I don't fuckin' know. If she's not with you she's out on an assignment or having another meeting with Isaac."

"Yeah, Owen was missing from my squad too," the other guy who's been quiet this entire time chimed in.

The subject changed again, your little feud was forgotten, though they didn't keep their conversation civil. So right on the dot you offered to leave the key since you were officially off the clock but they chose to leave.

You shouldn't be reading into Abby and Owen missing from training on the same day. But if she ever skipped it had to be for a good enough reason. Abby was nowhere to be seen the rest of the week. That information wasn't hard to find out, she was a busy bee, doing her usual assignments and more, but also apparently frequenting the FOB for lots of closed talks with Isaac.

Way to leave you hanging after having you in a whirl the other night. She didn't even show up to the party. You shouldn't be thinking about that. At all. Not when you had a girl underneath you and your hand working between her legs.

As she entered the hall, Abby heard a girl moaning loudly through the walls and laughed to herself about it. Then it was only after the first two knocks on your door she realized the noise was coming from inside. She felt her heart drop. It went silent on the other side, it wasn't you, she could tell.

She stood there motionless before deciding she should escape while she could, but the door cracked open. You were genuinely surprised to see it was Abby, it was much earlier than she'd usually come. But it was horrific timing, considering why she was on your mind.

"Hey, uh— you down for a session?" Abby asked as casually as possible. Her new plan was to act oblivious.

In a panic, you slapped the key into her chest and said, "Oh, no problem, here's the key!" while pushing her back and away. Once the door blocked you enough you shook your head and mouthed "Not now" and promptly closed the door.

Abby stayed there in another moment of shock before leaving. She didn't expect any other answer, you were busy and she interrupted. Of course, you wouldn't ditch a girl in the middle of doing that for her. Only she didn't come for the gym this time, those words came out from the unexpected situation and due to habit, but you wouldn't have known that.

Abby struggled to unlock the gym door, now that she recalled you mentioned having to do a special wiggle. But you usually did the honor. It's actually astounding how this hasn't happened before. When she really thought about it, this was probably the first time you truly rejected her. Her night visits weren't very consistent. In some periods it was a few times a week, a few times a month, a week straight then a long break before the next. There have been some nights where it took a little longer for you to get out of bed or she looked over after you'd gone quiet to see you'd dozed off. You rarely complained about the time or how long she was taking. Always agreed and stuck it out for her.

Walking into the gym alone, it was too quiet, and she honestly wasn't feeling like working out. But still, she decided to work with a punching bag for a bit. By the time she went to the locker room to find bandaging wrap and came out with her knuckles covered up, she heard the doors opening and closing. Her head whipped in that direction, disappointed not to see you, but she locked eyes with the girl for a moment before starting. Not even a minute later, the doors echoed again and it was you this time.

Abby watched you stop and stare down the hall catching the last glimpse of the girl before she turned into the staircase. You threw your hands up to drop them to your sides in apparent defeat, barely glanced in Abby's direction, and turned back to your room. Now Abby wasn't in the mood to exercise at all. Too flustered and unfocused. She contemplated following you, but you soon reappeared through the doors with your arms full of clothes and came into the gym, passing by Abby without properly looking at her still.

You only said, "I'm gonna shower."

You came out with entirely new clothes, bundled up properly for the biting winter cold. Abby chose not to say anything about earlier, as curious as she was. Maybe at another time, she would've teased you asking about who it was this time. But she was upset? With you? She had something she wanted to talk to you about, but the script was crumpled. She didn't speak at all when you came back. Guess you weren't in a talking mood either. She went back to the punching bag.

Your hookup heard Abby's voice and didn't take the interruption lightly, especially after you lied about who was at the door. Afterward, you needed to wash everything off your skin, the cigarette smoke, the girl's kisses, and the regret. Taking the long way to the other showers would've been inconvenient and still involved passing the gym. You couldn't leave now, even though you felt practically perverted to be near her. And she was acting strange, did she overhear? If she did she could be poking fun at you right now. But that wouldn't explain why she knocked. Who knows. All you know is you weren't seeing the strong, energetic Abby you knew.

"Come on, what are those weak-ass punches?" you finally spoke from the other side of the punching bag. "Picture someone you hate if you have to!"

You watched her stretch her arms, bracing one across her chest with the other. Expression hardening, fixating on a spot on the bag. At first, that girl came to mind, but she shook it away, that wasn't right, it was him she needed to picture. She needed to return to the real— tangible problems she could tackle right now. Her head twitched to the side, she jumped on her feet, shook her arms, and lifted her fists again.

You felt the bag take her hard blows over and over, jolting back with each one. There she was. You had a passing thought that you were glad you weren't really taking those hits, anyone on the receiving end would've been bludgeoned dead. When you saw her from this perspective, it was a reminder of what a brutal force her body can be.

When she finished with the round, she stretched her arms again but suddenly yelped, dropping to the floor while clutching her calf. "Holy fuck. Ow, ow!"

"Let me see." You rushed to her aid. When she moved her hand you saw the bulging knot the back of her leg formed. "Oh man, that's a bad cramp."

You pulled one of her arms over your shoulders to help her up and sit on a bench. Then kneeled beside her, stretching out the leg for her, and started massaging the area. She couldn't help but make gasps and groans as your fingers ran against the spot. It hurt but felt relieving at the same time. After a few minutes, you felt the muscle relax and rubbed her other calf since you did the other.

"I think I've got a knot here too," she joked, motioning with her shoulder.

"Now you're milking it." You still obliged and walked around to stand behind her and rub your thumbs in firm circles from the nape of her neck and across her shoulder blades.

"Mmm, that feels magical," she moaned out, tilting her head back for you to see her eyes flutter shut.

You laughed to yourself before even saying it. "That's what they all tell me."

Abby was reminded of how you were just inside your room with a girl, the same hands eliciting those sounds, touching her now. She didn't give you the humored reaction you tried to evoke. The harsh lines between her eyebrows formed and she subconsciously pulled away from your hands.

You also retracted from her, feeling the tension. You hesitated to suggest it first since you always let her call the shots about her sessions. "Maybe we should call it a night."

Her back rose and fell with a long, heavy sigh. "Can I do an ice bath to finish off? I've been feeling tense all week."

"Sure, I'll set it up. Keep stretching that leg."

Once the bath was drawn Abby slipped out of her hoodie and sweatpants. You still remember the first time you introduced her to it. She was nervous to get in after feeling how cold it was. You helped by holding her hand as she put one leg in, then the other, and then sunk into the water up to her chest. It was only from time to time she'd request an ice bath. Every time it was the procedure to hold her hand. She squeezed onto you tightly, her teeth chattering. And she wouldn't let go until she acclimated to the initial mind-numbing feeling.

Abby leaned her head back, closing her eyes with another deep sigh. You pulled her braid out from the water and let it hang outside the tub, toying with the wet end.

Finally, you came out with it and asked, "What's the matter?" She reached a hand up to rub her temples, staying silent. You tickled her shoulder with the tips of her hair and mumbled, "I can tell when you're off."

It took a moment before she answered, "It's just. . . there's this thing I gotta do. It's a pretty big deal. It's just been a lot."

"Is that why you've been so busy?" She nodded yes. "Top secret stuff?"

Silence fell again, all but the sound of Abby shifting in the water. She felt like she could tell you anything, all but this one thing. She doesn't know how she kept it from you this long. When you're the person who has made her feel like she's been accomplishing something while she waited for the opportunity. Now it was here.

It was already dim due to the limited number of lights on in the stadium late at night. The room went completely dark as they flickered off, though Abby didn't notice with her eyes closed. You instinctively looked towards the little red fire alarm on the wall. As you expected, it started blaring despite there being no fire or smoke.

With no warning, Abby opened her eyes to see nothing but the walls flash red. The loud notes of the alarm suddenly turned into ear-piercing screeches, most likely damaged from being hit with a broom the previous times it went off at random.

"That stupid fucking thing," you shouted over it, "How many times have I said it needs to get fixed!"

While you clamped your hands over your ears you noticed Abby was white-knuckling the sides of the tub. She looked like she was in a ready position to jump out but was frozen in place. When you called her name she showed no reaction. It took pulling her up by the arms and hoisting her out like a ragdoll to get her out. She flopped onto your body failing to find her footing, her stare was far away. You wrapped her in a towel, supporting her by holding her close. Her body was trembling all over, you didn't think it was just from the cold.

You led her out of the gym, barely remembering to grab her clothes before leaving everything behind as it was. You knew the alarm would eventually turn off and headed for your room. Abby allowed you to take her, she didn't know how to function right now. Breathing became more difficult, tears began to blur things, and the walls still looked red.

Abby watched you scramble to tidy up, tearing a towel you had spread on your bed off and fixing your disheveled bed sheets. It felt forbidden to come into your room at night. In the daylight, when she'd come in to watch TV or read it was normal to be with you, but here in the darkness there was an added layer of privacy to being alone.

There was also a made-up rule in Abby's mind. That when she did come knocking at your door, the nights she couldn't sleep, the least she could do for you was use the time wisely and do something worth being proud of. She wouldn't impose on the kindness you'd surely extend and fall into your reliable arms to be coddled after bad dreams. That would be asking too much, she does too much of that already. But tonight, she was going to make an exception to this rule, even though things went unexpectedly, she made it inside. And in this moment she needed the latter so badly.

She sat on your bed, rubbing her hands on her thighs, rocking back and forth. This wasn't an unfamiliar instance among soldiers, but seeing Abby this way broke you to pieces. You stood there feeling useless. Thankfully Abby acted for you, pulling you in by your shirt so you were between her legs as she wrapped around your waist like it was a lifeline. Finally, her emotions couldn't be held in any longer as she let the floodgates open with her face buried into your stomach.

You could tell she was holding back, trying to keep quiet, but loud sobs couldn't help but slip out. Then it turned into the kind where the cries get choked out midway because you were out of air but there were no breaks in between it to catch your breath. The kind of cries that didn't sound like they belonged to such a tough person like Abby, you'd find it more fitting for the younger, smaller her you first met. It was a short intense wave before going back to the stifled sniffles. It was about five minutes, standing there letting her drench your shirt, embracing her.

She could hardly look you in the eye afterward, mainly feeling embarrassed as she tried to stop those big gasps for air. You simply smiled down at her, stroking the hair around the shell of her ear. She finally loosened her hold but didn't take her hands off your sides. You were swaying slowly from side to side without realizing it. Abby let her head rest against your stomach, feeling better but not ready to let go of this pillar of security. You didn't dare end it first. It was another few minutes until Abby gathered her composure and pulled away.

"Nice." She nodded to the fake pine tree with soft white lights and classic red ornaments in front of three stockings on the wall— anything to take the attention away from her.

"Mark and his boyfriend are extra about the whole Christmas thing. They did a whole craft night to make the stockings. Third-wheeling even in decor," you tried cracking a joke to make her smile.

She weakly chuckled. "How cute."

When you looked at your stocking you remembered you had put something for safekeeping inside. It felt right since it was a gift after all, though you didn't know when you'd give it. She could use a pick-me-up right about now. Abby watched curiously when you stepped out from between her legs and walked over, taking it from the wall.

"Actually, I have something for you."

"I didn't know we were doing the gift thing. We're not even Christian!"

"Oh, I'm something way more real." She raised her eyebrow to hear the punch line. You held out the stocking and said, "I'm Santa Claus."

She laughed heartily and took it. "You're fucked up."

This was a surprise. Her whole mood was flipped and now there was a smile she couldn't control, stretching her tear-stained cheeks. She touched the ticklish felt of the stocking, observed the cute patches sewn on, and read a cursive letter "A", like it could've been made for her. When she finally reached in, she had to dig her hand to the very bottom and found something soft and round with hard things inside. When she held it up she was still confused.

"I learned how to make it in knitting class. It's a pouch for your coins. I put some in to start it off."

"Oh!" She opened it and immediately dumped the contents into her hand. A heap of coins, quarters, her favorites, and also other types like dollar coins, half-dollar coins, and even other currency coins. "Oh my god. My dad would flip if he saw this!"

That comment caught you off guard, she was particular about mentioning him, so it was the deepest of compliments to you.

"Thank you." She suddenly fell solemn, circling her thumb over the face of a quarter. "About that thing I mentioned. . ." You nodded, waiting for her to disclose more at her own pace. She tried to go back to the script but it was long gone. The words just fell out. "I haven't been honest— when you ask me why I'm so fired up or what motivates me? It's all because of this one person, this smuggler, a man. . ."

It was a different kind of hard to fight off sleep when lying in bed. You had to close your eyes to absorb all that was thrown at you and fight to open them again. All those bits and pieces of information you've accumulated over the years were all being pieced together all at once. The Fireflies, the true story of the attack, her father, the nature of his demise, her unshakable determination, why she wanted to become something of a weapon.

You mumbled tiredly, "Okay so. . . Wyoming then. . . in about a month. . ."

"I wish we could leave now! But Isaac said-" Abby restarted her rant.

"Hey. If Joel is-"

"Tommy."

"Right sorry— if Tommy really is at this settlement I doubt that'll change now. He's not wrong, you need to prepare accordingly. And you only got this lead a week ago? There's no use in rushing if you want to do this right."

Abby accepted this answer, more willingly than when Owen told her something along the same lines. She felt better talking to you about this than him too, far more comfortable in your care.

"And you'll be out for how long again?" you asked.

"With a car, getting there and back won't take too long. It'll be a matter of how long it takes to find Tommy. And when we get more information on Joel, we'll have to see where that takes us."

She sounded confident, optimistically so, maybe a little unrealistic. You couldn't help but think this lead of hers was grasping. Your follow-up questions were met with exasperation like it wasn't the first time she was asked. It confirmed that the what-ifs, or anything for that matter, wouldn't keep her from trying. Not when she was so dead set on this, why she felt she needed this vengeance. You couldn't wrap your head around one man causing so much damage when all they were trying to do was give a chance to humanity. He escaped like a bandit and that's what kept Abby restless. She beat around stating the obvious goal directly, calling it "getting what he deserves". You couldn't necessarily object.

"So. . . a little while? Longest you've been out is like a week, maybe two?"

"What? You gonna miss me?" You could hear the smirk in her words, she also sounded drunken with drowsiness.

You hoped she couldn't feel the way your heart fluttered, but she was cradled in your chest after all. It was unspoken that Abby was staying the night. It all happened naturally after she started shivering again, reclothing wasn't enough so she sought warmth from you.

"Of course, I will," you answered honestly, giving her shoulders a little squeeze. You swear you can feel her smile against you. In a hushed tone, you asked back, "What about me, will you miss me?"

"Of course." The hand Abby had splayed on the small of your back tucked under your side, pulling you flush against her. She lifted her head, looking up at you through her eyelashes, then fixed herself in the crook of your neck.

You flinched away but felt your heart throw itself forward. For a second you thought she was going to kiss you, especially after asking you something like that. Why would you think that of all times? You started to reprimand yourself, but in reality, was it all that crazy? At this point, you were completely tangled in each other's bodies. She was pressed against you so close you could feel her soft, calm breaths roll over your skin. From the top of her head, you found her familiar scent of sea salt and pine trees.

You don't know how you haven't managed to kiss her this long, not even in a drunken stupor. You wished you could know what was going through her head, sharing a moment like this. Did it matter? Would that change what you were? Whatever that was. In the meantime, it was just your thing that didn't have a name because it was so special. You've never had anyone like Abby before. You wanted to stay in her life and for her to stay in yours. Even if it meant having to smother your deepest desires. It'll pass. You think you have the discipline and the patience. But for now, you were going to close your eyes and let yourself have this.

As Abby melted in your warmth, prickly thoughts still tried to poke at her tired brain. She recalled how another girl was in your bed not too long ago, the feeling of being the second felt degrading, but then it changed. She was the one you were going to fall asleep and wake up with. How selfish was it that she was satisfied with that, like she'd won something? You could have not answered the door— tonight and all that time ago. But you did, every time. There's no repaying you for it, for everything, though she tried and will endlessly try. Now you truly know everything. And you're still here, closer than ever. A thought that's echoed in her mind lately came reverberating again: Did she deserve a stocking or someone who loves her? Did she deserve you?

Chapter Text

2 YEARS EARLIER

Abby drove and you sat in the passenger seat. She led two trucks, with Manny, Nick, and Jordan behind, and another team of three taking up the rear. You hold the revolver you were given in your open palms in your lap. It felt foreign and yet all too familiar in your hands.

"Remember, the safety-"

"I know how to shoot a gun, Abby," you said with a small burst of annoyance.

Abby pressed her lips together tightly to keep from saying anything else and squeezed the steering wheel to relieve the stress that had unusually taken over her.

"Loosen up a bit, Sergeant Anderson." You poked her, then teased her more upon seeing her grin, "Told you Isaac would say yes to you."

Earlier that week, you mentioned how the gym could use some things. Abby told you she was going to Capitol Hill with a small fleet to scope out some buildings for supplies. And apparently, there was a fancy hotel with a nice gym and suggested you come see it for yourself.

You hesitated to accept the offer and instead made a half-assed excuse: "I'll be out in the fields with Maggie this week, though." When Abby looked at you confused, you explained, "My new piece won't come for free."

"Another tattoo?" she asked as if there was possibly no more room for ink. You'd only finished your hip, mirrored the one on your calf on the other leg, and added to the one on your arm, making it go down, closer to your elbow. "Where?"

"Just one to match on my other shoulder."

"You're crazy." She shook her head and quickly returned to the conversation from before. "When's the last time you left the stadium? Come. It'll be fun. I just need to get the clearance."

Now you resembled the dog, Alice, in the way you both hung out the window. Enjoying the feeling of the rain sprinkling onto your face and the refreshing sight of green hills compared to the grey stadium halls. You gasped and Abby looked over with panic, jerking the wheel as if last-second avoiding a pothole. It was only your reaction to some deer running alongside the truck in the distance.

When you finally parked on the street of buildings, directly in front of the hotel, Abby couldn't help but start with her concerns again. "Don't worry too much about using that. As long as you stay close to me you'll be fine."

It sounded like she was trying to tell herself that the most. You responded with an exasperated "Yes, Ma'am" and shoved the gun into the holster on your hip.

"Good, 'cause she's a shit shot." Danny was hitching a ride in the back, budding into a conversation that didn't include him.

"Shut up," you both said.

Abby admittedly became more anxious when you practiced shooting a few rounds before leaving the stadium. If you were someone in her squad she probably would've done some shit talking herself, but you were an exception. And today, her responsibility.

The others came straight to Abby for instruction. They were to search the neighboring shops while you, her, and Danny handled the hotel. As she talked to them, you spaced out knowing it wasn't directed at you. You turned in a circle, taking in your surroundings.

Once in the lobby, decorated in the free-growing nature, your eyes thoroughly scanned the room. Abby was pleased to see how alert you were but still kept you in her sights when you and Alice roamed ahead. Before she could reprimand you for going to areas without her lead first, you proved useful, finding a stash of supplies in a safe and having it unlocked before she could even get there.

The first floor was otherwise mostly picked through as Abby expected, it was the upper floors that needed a proper scouring. "Well, we know where the gym is. Let's leave that for last and check out the rest."

The crumpled staircase was a no-go, but Abby found something to give enough height to climb onto the second-floor balcony. Starting with the left side, the first rooms were nearly as bare, then you traveled around the corner only to find the impassable state of that section and redirected. The right side was more promising, then when you were ready to move up to the next floor, the area before the stairs and elevators was completely barricaded off with random furniture and suitcases.

Abby wanted to find a way through and sent Danny across the hall while you searched another room. She watched you wander off in her peripheral vision as she surveyed the room for any sign of passage through or up.

"I might know a way," you said from the bathroom not even a minute later.

She went inside to see you standing on the sink countertop, lifting yourself into a part of the ceiling. "Hey, not so fast-"

"It's just a maintenance closet," you said once your shoes were out of sight.

Danny went up first and helped carry Alice up before Abby followed. She paused to make quick notes on the paper she had with the address and list of buildings. Then noticed she stood on top of a wood plank, the perfect size to fit back into the hole.

"How did you-" Abby started to ask but found she was talking to an empty room. "Ash? Where— Ash!"

You didn't think, your feet simply led the way, toward a specific room a few doors down. You put your hand on the gun holster as you opened the door slowly. The air was surprisingly clear because of the broken windows but smelled of rot.

You instantly zoned in on a corner of the room where a makeshift tent was pitched. You kneeled before it, hesitating to lift the tarp to reveal the inside. When you did you foolishly shut your eyes, peeking only after you built up more courage. There was nothing but an ugly lump of overgrown fungal growth taking over the space. Thank god, it was nothing. You let out the breath you'd been holding and started to crawl inside to get a better look. You wanted to make sure.

That's when a cracking sound in front of you made you startle, suddenly the wall was breaking, and something was lunging at you. You failed to get on your feet and scrambled backward, it shrieked and resisted wildly as you held it away by its shoulders.

"Fuck! Marco, it's me! Stop! It's me!" you shouted in panic.

Two gunshots rang in your ears. It went limp and Abby kicked it off of you, keeping her gun aimed, looking frantically between it and you.

Your immediate reaction was to hurry to his— it's rescue. The only recognizable thing was his bright paracord bracelet melded with the decayed recreated flesh. His face was completely gone now, but when you were holding him back, you didn't know if it was your mind playing tricks, he was barely there, underneath the growth that took over. You retched and clear stuff came up.

"Knew she couldn't handle it." Danny had come to see what the commotion was.

"Keep it moving. Go!" Abby used an authoritative voice you rarely got to hear then turned to scold you next. "And I thought I told you to stay with me!" You were still hunched on the floor and shrunk at her shouts. She instantly felt guilty and softened her approach. "You can't scare me like that."

She pulled you up to your feet and checked you over. Her heart sank when a red spot seeped through your sleeve, her hands trembled as she went to check it. It was only a shard of glass sticking out of your arm. She sighed in relief and pulled it out without warning, you gasped as she applied pressure and led you somewhere to sit.

You sat quietly for a moment, sniffling, trying your best to compose yourself. You felt embarrassed most of all. Messing up so stupidly and having to get saved in front of her, by her, of all people.

"How do you know this place?" Abby finally asked.

"I was holed up here with an old friend. I um. . . I actually put up those barricades."

"What?"

"It was just the two of us. After we got away from some hunters, we decided to shelter down here because we were both in rough shape. He got shot in the foot and I got stabbed in the shoulder. At first, we thought it was clear, no infected. . . but they were hiding. One day, I guess we made too much noise and they came out of nowhere. He wasn't fast enough and got bit. He told me to get out. So I ran. . . and once I got out onto the street I nearly got run over by one of our trucks."

"You almost became roadkill, huh?"

You finally looked her in the eyes, knowing what she was referring to. That silly name, a few of the older soldiers, the ones who picked you up and brought you to the WLF, still called you to this day. You chuckled and nodded. "Yup."

"Floor is clear. There's way more shit too," Danny updated from down the hall.

"Don't let your guard down." She answered back.

"We should get back to it," you said, giving your friend a final passing glance and starting to leave the room.

You stopped at the door confused when Abby went in the opposite direction and watched as she took the tarp from the makeshift tent to lay it over the corpse. She took a knee and bowed her head. In the back of her mind, thanking them for you still being here today. Behind Abby, you spotted something on the mattress. You rushed over, it wasn't there before, it must've come loose with him.

"What is it?" she asked.

You swiftly tucked it into your pocket and ignored her. "Let's keep moving."

It took a few hours and a lunch break in between until the trucks were loaded to the brim and it was time to return to the stadium. The drizzle had stopped for now, the sky was coated in a blanket of pink and gold clouds illuminated by the setting sun. You were waiting in the truck, in the middle spot, next to Danny, separated by Alice.

You watched Abby through the side mirror, talking to both drivers before finally getting in and taking off. If there was one thing you liked about being out here it was watching her embody the leadership position she's been promoted to so well.

Within the first few minutes of driving, Abby made a turn but the trucks behind kept going straight. Danny immediately asked what was going on, voicing your shared confusion.

"Just making a quick pit stop." She pulled over and motioned for you to come out on her side. "Stay here with Alice and watch the truck," she said and shut the door before Danny could protest.

"Where are we going?" you asked as you started to walk.

"Somewhere."

"Ah, I see," you replied back sarcastically.

You walked through a space between buildings, staring at the brick strewn with ivy, something caught your eye. Running your hand over the wall, across the bottom half of the woman's face, you marveled under your breath, "Oh wow."

"What the hell? This shit wasn't here last time." Abby had the opposite reaction.

"I think it's pretty cool," you said before thinking, then started explaining yourself after seeing the incredulous look on her face, "It's chiseled stone. The craftsmanship. I mean, you gotta give them props!"

She picked something up off the ground, a whittled piece of wood, finely carved with details on her hands and feet, clothes, face, and hair. She tossed it back to the ground with the litter and mumbled, "I guess that's one way of looking at it."

You rambled, still looking at the mural, while Abby kept walking on, "I don't know, sometimes, I just can't help but think. When I came to Washington— what if I had traveled a little more north and ended up a Seraphite?"

"That's if they didn't string you up and gut you first." Was her automatic response. "And you wouldn't fall for their bullshit anyway."

With the same quickness, you quipped, "Then I'd pretend to believe the same way I do with Isaac's bullshit."

You tried to hide the shrinking confidence in your "joke" when she didn't react the way you wanted her to. You went too far, you'd never even think of pulling something like that with any of the soldiers when they'd go on their rants. You didn't want to think Abby was truly the same.

She glanced towards the truck though you were far from hearing distance. "Don't say shit like that around the others."

You finally went to catch up with her, and rolled your eyes, saying, "Yeah, yeah."

"Come on, it's up ahead— wait. I want you to close your eyes." Not before taking a cautionary visual sweep around, she cupped her hands over your eyes and led you forward. You felt your feet go from grass to concrete. She still told you to wait as she took her hands away and moved to your side. You grinned waiting for the reveal. You looked particularly radiant, it was almost distracting, perhaps it was the glow of the golden hour. "Okay. . . now. Happy early birthday!"

The first thing that caught your eye was underneath you, the bright rainbow pattern of the crosswalk. You laughed looking at Abby's expectant face of your reaction. It finally made sense why she pushed so hard for you to come out on this assignment with her.

"What? You took me here because I'm gay?"

"Well— I mean, yeah. No-" She snorted and lifted your chin with her finger. You finally noticed the bookstore decorated with the same rainbows on little flags. "Remember how you were telling me the library needed some diversity in the romance section? There's some books here that I think you'll like."

"Oh!"

Abby felt proud of herself seeing the way your eyes lit up as you walked inside.

"Did you have to get Isaac's approval for this too?" you asked.

"Maybe." She smirked.

This place was highly patrolled by the WLF at the moment, she was here the other week when she thought about you, and with that being said, she was confident any risk of danger was close to zero. But the mural and unfinished wood piece were still in mind, though she doubted it, she had to make sure their makers weren't lingering. She told you to go crazy and that she'd be right back.

Abby was right, the books were much more to your taste and started piling them one by one in your arm, planning to take as many as you possibly can.

"Where's Abby?" Danny came in to ruin the mood. You shrugged unhelpfully. He proceeded to say loudly, "Can we go already? Before this one almost gets herself killed again!"

Trying to ignore his provocations, you went to a different shelf. Another book caught your eye, it was an obvious mature romance between two women on the cover. You smiled reading the synopsis and chose it as the final one you'd take unless Abby was willing to help you with another stack.

"What do we have here?" Danny asked and simultaneously snatched the book away. "Woah-ho!"

You had to put your other books down on the counter first before you could take it back. "Fuck off."

"I can't say I'm not surprised. You know, because. . ."

"Because what? Say it." You got in his face, sick of his constant little snide remarks.

"Well, aren't you like— a dyke or something?"

Abby returned just in time to see your fist collide with his face, hearing a crack and a pop. Before he could retaliate she grabbed you both by the shoulders, shoving Danny back while shielding you.

"What the hell is going on!?" She looked to Danny, who was holding his nose as it gushed with blood, then to you as she heard another pop sound. You shook your hand and massaged your knuckles. Both still staring daggers at each other as if Abby wasn't in between. When she got no answer she said, "Fine, we're leaving. Right now."

You sat in the truck, overhearing Abby and Danny bickering about him about sitting in the back.

"You should've stayed in the truck like I told you."

"And you're not gonna tell your girlfriend anything? She hit me."

"Fucking find somewhere to sit, hang on the back for all I care, I really don't give a shit."

She got into the driver's seat, taking a long-winded sigh. You didn't see how she looked at you since you kept your neck craned towards the window. The stress lines disappeared from between her eyebrows. She imagined you differently after this pit stop, smiling brightly while hugging the mountain of books in your lap.

"Let me take a look at your hand," she said with none of the anger she directed at Danny and reached for you.

You flinched away, snapping back, "I'm fine. Let's just go back home."

On the drive back there was a tense silence. Any enthusiasm you had before was gone as you stared blankly out at the landscape.

"Look, more deer." Abby pointed. You shot a lazy glance, barely forcing a reaction. The silence stretched again before she asked hesitantly, "You find some stuff you liked?"

"Yeah." You answered moodily. You shouldn't be directing your anger at her. You tried fixing your attitude. "Thanks for taking me there."

"Maybe we can try going again, you know, without that dick head."

"I can hear you!"

Abby put her arm on the backrest and reached for your shoulder, firmly holding you and Alice back. Then slammed on the breaks. It earned a laugh and a real smile from you. That made her feel better.

"Maybe," you answered.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

When you returned to the stadium you were taken to medical straight away. You left your books and things on an odd note with Abby. She intended to return them to you and also make up for everything somehow. The day didn't go exactly as planned, the gym was a bit of a bust, and any moments of fun were lost or ruined due to Danny's intrusion.

It got late as she helped unload the goods from the day, got saddled with other things afterward, and washed up and had dinner; where she wishfully looked for you in the dining hall. But it was no hour she hadn't visited before. No one's answered the door yet, she chose against knocking again but waited a few more seconds.

"Abby?" Mark said as he spotted her at the door coming into the hall.

He let her in. Your bed was empty when she went to drop the stack of books on your nightstand. After ticking off your other normal spots (gym, library), Mark suggested you were out on the balcony. Abby stepped outside using the back door of the stadium box rooms, which led to the highest part of the stands above the various workstations below. On the stairs, you sat, beside the curtain of dripping rain from the overhang.

"There you are. What're you doing out here?"

She felt an instant pang of sadness when you didn't even turn to look at her, but was quickly reassured to see you had earbuds in. She peeked over your shoulder without bringing attention to herself just yet, seeing the pencil in your hand moving along the journal in your lap. She caught a glimpse, a big block of writing, and around in the margins were rough sketches of things; Alice, deer, a striped flag. She inched closer to see what you were working on towards the bottom of the page, it looked like the start of a person, hair, in a braid.

You finally turned your head. You jumped, snapped your journal shut, and yanked the earbuds out. "Shit! You scared me. Um. . . yeah, I don't know about tonight-"

"Oh, no. I'm not here for that. I wanted to see how you were doing."

"Fine. Nora patched me up."

"That's not exactly what I meant— but that's good to hear." She rocked back and forth on her feet, swinging her arms by her sides. "So, what're you doing out here?"

"Getting some fresh air."

"Can't sleep?"

You shook your head no, curling into your knees, so your journal was pressed against your chest. She took a seat beside you.

"I've never been so happy to write up a report before. Formally putting into words that you whooped Danny's ass." Abby chuckled. "You wanna tell me what happened?"

It felt dumb when you had to say it out loud. You buried your face in your arms as you reluctantly told her, "He called me a dyke."

It took her a moment to register the word, recognizing it as a bad one. "I fucking knew he deserved it. I'll have your back when Isaac asks about it. How's the hand?"

You put it out for her to inspect. "I iced it earlier."

You felt her take it in both hands, her thumb brushing lightly over your swollen knuckles. After a few seconds, you looked at her, wondering why she felt she needed to come. She was simply smiling down at it, then beamed it towards you.

"You held it down out there today," she said.

You half laughed, half scoffed.

Abby took the chance to ask, "About what happened. . . back at the h-"

The sound of the door opening made you both look, you pulled your hand away. Mark came out to say, "You're in charge of opening tomorrow, 'kay?"

"Got it," you replied, receiving his subtler way of saying the room was yours.

A tense distant feeling grew between you, despite the closeness you shared on the step you sat on. Abby lost the confidence to keep prying. You just sat there, Abby wrung her hands busily and you fidgeted with a crease of your clothes.

After thinking of ways to ease into the topic, eventually, you plucked the photo from the pages of your journal and said, "I found this at the hotel."

An image of people surrounding a fire, she spots your younger face among the others right away. "Who are they?"

"My old friends." You held up the picture so she could get a closer look. "This was us about a month into running away."

"You ran away?"

"Oh yeah, twice. Things were getting crazy in our quarantine zone and we found another one across the state. When we got there we found out it was way worse so we chose to leave again. We had each other and that's all that mattered. . .

"This was the second time. It was the end of winter, it was rough, but we made it through. Then, when we were getting out of Idaho, we ran into a horde and got split up." —Your thumb swiped over two faces— "We never saw them again." —You covered a third— "She was sick for a while, but it got bad and we were down to nothing." —You circled the last person and yourself— "Then it was just us."

Abby was left speechless. Since words failed her she opted for another form of comfort and put an arm around you, scooting over to squeeze you securely against her. You let your weight rely on her. You swallowed hard. Thankfully you'd gotten all your tears out, but that meant you were left with a tight throat and aching chest.

Abby laid her cheek on top of your hair, taking in the smell of petrichor and mint. You closed your eyes, soaking in the sense of safety she provided. She listened to the rain patter and your breaths until she started dozing off.

Some time had gone by when she slowly lifted her head stiff-necked, you didn't move a muscle, staying slumped against her. "You asleep?" You hummed half-consciously. Her voice barely hovered above a whisper when she said, "Let's get you to bed."

You shivered from no longer having Abby to give you heat. Once you were laid down she covered you up in a blanket, using her fingers to tuck it underneath your sides for extra warmth. You laughed wearily and curled deeper into it, bringing it up to your chin.

Abby smiled down at you, the weight in her chest from today's stress was lifted and replaced with a warm swell. Before she knew it her hand reached for your face, using the back of her fingers to brush your cheek.

"What?" You smiled, eased but equally confused at her gentle gestures.

"For a moment, I thought you got bitten." Her voice faltered. "You know how much that would've killed me if you had?"

"Sorry, I caused so much trouble today."

"Don't apologize. All that matters is that you're okay." Her hand finally left your face. "I should let you sleep. Goodnight."

You grabbed a hold of her wrist before she could get too far. Then you lifted the blanket, wordlessly asking her to stay.

When she started kicking her shoes off you inched back to make room. She slid in carefully and then you were lying face to face. Simply having her near again worked to relax you and let your eyes close.

Abby kept fixing her head on the pillow, something hard was digging into her ear. She reached under, her hand found something she distantly recognized the feeling of, and pulled it out.

"What the hell," Abby said as she held it up. "Why— what were you thinking?"

You looked at her guiltily wide-eyed, you honestly forgot. When you passed the mural on the way back to the truck you were still hot-headed, and took the wooden figurine, in an act of pure rebellious spite.

"I don't know, I wasn't!"

"Clearly!"

She couldn't handle seeing you disappointed or sad another time today. She really never could stay mad at you.

"Find a better hiding spot for this." She started to hand it over but pulled her hand back at the last second. "You— we can get into some serious shit."

"I know."

She put it in your hand but didn't let go just yet. "You don't plan on running away again, do you?"

You shook your head no, Abby searched your eyes. You assured her in a stubborn mutter, "I'm not. I have reasons to stay this time."

"Good. I better be one of 'em." She finally relinquished your little souvenir.

You tried closing your eyes again. You thought you'd be ready for some sleep after such a long day. You didn't realize how nerve wracking it would be to spill your guts to someone, your heart was still beating fast from adrenaline. And maybe a little from getting told off by Abby again. Aside from the chaos, it was a good day. Her gift to you was amazing. She was amazing. Now she was in bed with you, going to sleep through the night with you.

This was going to be a first. It had to be the last. Because you already started wanting too much, wanting her to wrap her strong, safe arms around you. It felt worse denying it when you knew she would give it to you gladly. The minutes seemed to drag behind your eyelids as you waited for sleep to take you away. You gave up and stared at her while you could.

After a while, you knew if you weren't asleep she couldn't be either, you nudged your knee against her leg, and she "awakened".

"What do you do when you can't sleep?" you whispered.

Abby thought about it. Most nights, she'd toss and turn until she magically woke up the next day. But when it was really bad. . .

"I come to you."

"And force me to be awake with you?"

"Yup." She did have to admit, this was just as tranquilizing on her body and mind. As if you were her personal remedy for insomnia. "You know you can come to my room, right?"

"Now I do."

She asked you about the books you picked. You talked about what you remembered, the plotlines you were excited to read, the non-fiction books you got talking about parades and icons. It passed the time until you started yawning and your eyes grew heavy again.

Abby tried to sleep too, listening to your breathing until it sounded like you were asleep again. She knew for certain you were out for the night when you eased off the wall and your arms and legs spread out enough to touch her without flinching away. When she knew sleep wasn't coming anytime soon she found herself watching you. You scrunched your face in a silly way from time to time, you breathed loudly at random making her shut her eyes in fear of getting caught staring, and you made these funny little noises when you stretched. You moved a lot. Eventually, you turned onto your belly, then back to your side. Your face got close enough to hear the little wheezy noise from your stuffy nose and to see your eyelashes twitch. And then finally, you faced away from her.

You tugged at the blanket though you were covered, you must've been cold still. Abby inched forward to close the gap between your bodies. That would help with the cold, and sharing the blanket, of course. Next, she tried to find a place for her arm and lay it over your side. She held still waiting for a reaction. You took a long breath, secured her arm underneath yours, and laid back into her.

Abby tried closing her eyes again, focusing on anything little thing to hopefully bore herself to sleep. Like the feeling of your chest rising and falling under her arm or the smell of your hair as she nudged her face into it. How nice this felt, the presence of another body she hadn't had in a while. Because she couldn't imagine doing this with anyone else, not even Owen could provide this feeling of security anymore. You stopped fidgeting and tossing, she thought maybe just maybe she helped with that. And felt like she could finally sleep.