Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The outpost was a cold, lifeless shell—just another stop along the way, barely holding itself together. The walls were bare concrete, streaked with grime and water stains, the kind of filth that spoke of years spent forgotten. Blood painted the floor in uneven pools, smeared into the grim patterns by boots that didn’t bother avoiding it. The smell of iron and rot clung to the air, sharp and inescapable, burning your nostrils with every breath. 

The few fluorescent lights buzzed weakly above, their cold glow barely cutting through the shadows. Whatever furniture the place once had was reduced to splinters and scrapes, scattered across the room as if tossed in a rage. The windows reinforced with rusting bars and thick planks, let no light in, only adding to the stifling feeling that the walls might close in at any minute.

“No, Alexandra, don’t go. Come on,” Leah defeatedly pleads whilst leaning against the doorway. She cringes a bit at the sound of the golf club once more hitting the very man they came here for, indifferent to the thought of him dying, but not quite a fan of death in itself. 

“No, I’m sick of this shit. Can’t you see I’m suffocating here! I just-,” Alex’s words cut off as she looks up to the ceiling, hurriedly running a hand through her dark brown hair, “I’ll head back to the compound while Abby keeps beating a dead horse with a stick. Literally,” she stands up, exasperated, only to inhale the smell of blood lingering in the air, polluting the outpost, “I mean really, we come all this way… for this?” Her voice breaks slightly, a crack she quickly swallows. “To sleep on the floor of some cold fucking outpost, and the best she can do is hit the damn guy with a golf club?” she laughs crudely. Bending back down to zip her bag, throwing it over her shoulder.

“Alexandra, you think I’m not sick of this too?” Leah’s voice cracks as her pleas fall upon deaf ears. All Alex can hear is the muffled grunts just behind that door Leah leans against. It’s times like this, that look in Leah’s eye, that make Alex feel the faint echo of a mother she never knew. It pulls at something fragile, something she’s not yet ready to acknowledge. “But this… this isn’t about either of us, okay? It’s about Abby. She can't survive this world if she doesn’t let this go and she is very valuable to our community whether you like that or not. You won’t fight to protect our people and if she doesn’t, who will?! You can’t just le-”

“We’ve done this too many times. ‘He’s your dad’ this, ‘Just give her some time’ that. Fuck off,” she spits uncaringly at Leah, only to look back over her shoulder and regret everything she’d just let fly off the tongue. “Shit, I didn’t mean that,” turning around to step towards Leah, reaching for her.

“No, go. You’ve made up your mind. Take my horse, and I’ll ride back with Jordan. Be safe, Alex. And don’t forget where home is,” Leah says, not even sparing Alex another glance as she reenters the room, the sounds of them brutally beating those two men, Joel and Timmy, was it? Who cares? evading the tense atmosphere before resolutely leaving Alex standing there, full of regret, staring at a wooden door.

Alex can feel her eyes wanting to water. Refusing, she resolutely pulls out an almost fully dried out marker, snatching up an old newspaper scrapping and scribbles ‘I’m sorry, talk back at the compound?’ onto the side not muddied by a boot stain. Her hand hesitated over the paper, the words ‘I’m sorry’ feeling too small for the weight in her chest. Walking over to Leah’s sleeping bag and unzipping it, she places it on the makeshift pillow before, zipping her bag again, before quietly slipping out the sliding door nearest her right. The cold air hit her face as she stepped outside, sharp and unrelenting, like the ache in her chest. She slid the door shut and turned to scan her surroundings— desolate as always— before approaching Leah’s horse, one she’d grown to love despite being told not to project her feelings onto animals. Saddling up, she stroked the mare’s mane —a fleeting comfort, though Leah’s words, told to her all those years ago, looped through her mind, “Don’t place your feelings onto animals, Alexandra. It’ll do you no good when they die.” This trip back was going to be a cold one.

After a grueling ride through the snow, Leah’s horse’s fatigue became impossible to ignore, forcing Alex to take shelter for the night. She found a little old cabin with an overhang, perfect for her to hitch her horse for a bit of reprieve from the harsh elements; it'd begun to snow. The place was empty—three rooms, nothing worth remembering—but it would do. Dragging both of the battered couches in front of the doors, she settled down beside the one closest to the window, exhaustion finally pulling her into a restless sleep.

A sharp chill cut through the cabin before Alex even opened her eyes. The press of cold steel at her throat forced her awake, her breath catching as she met a part of unforgiving green eyes glaring down at her. “Don’t. Move,” the words sharp, startling Alex into rousing. “I don't want to hurt you, but I will—don’t make me.”

“What do you want?” Alex bites out, the knife nicking her skin as Alex flinches, a bead of blood sliding down her neck. Her pulse thundered, but she kept her expression steady.

“A man. About six feet tall. Dark hair, greying. He was with another guy—longer hair, younger. Have you seen them?” She presses the blade deeper.

“Who are you?”

“I ask the questions here. Do you have a death wish? Is that it?”

“It snowed last night. There are footprints, yet you come bother me about two men I’ve clearly not met?” Alex slowly rises, only to be harshly pressed back into the ground by the feral girl hovering above her. “No. I’ve not seen them. Now get the fuck off me.”

The girl takes in all of Alex’s features, from her dark brown eyes, and her almost black hair, to the slope of her nose, seemingly deciding she’s not lying, she slowly pulls back her knife. Her emerald eyes burnt with something Alex couldn’t quite place—rage, maybe grief. Something familiar, but twisted into something sharp enough to cut. Alex reflectively rubbed her throat after the assault, sitting up to watch this… girl back away slowly. Her knife still angled at Alex, eyes scanning the room one last time, a silent threat in her eyes, before leaving the way she came, through the window. Fuck I knew I forgot to check something… the one fucking time. This girl. Charging into cabins, waving knives around. What the hell did she think she’d accomplish? Alex thinks to herself after the girl leaves, not sending one last glare over her shoulder before disappearing, the window wide open. Any semblance of warmth that existed throughout the night completely diminished. 

“Next time, I’m chaining the damn window shut,” Alex muttered, gathering her things before dragging the old couch back into place.

Chapter Text

The dining facility buzzed with low conversation, the kind of muffled voices that blended into a constant hum of a place where people gathered not for joy but for necessity. Ever-blinking fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting a cold, sterile glow over the metal tables bolted to the ground. Every scrape of metal on plastic felt louder than it should, grating against her nerves. The occasional bolt of laughter rang out into the area, but these outward expressions of happiness were few and far between. The smell of overcooked rations and something vaguely burnt hung in the air, sharp and cloying enough to make Alex’s stomach turn, though nobody else seemed bothered in the slightest.

She sat alone, hunched over her tray near the far corner of the room, in an attempt to make herself as small as possible. Her plastic fork scraped across the tray at something she thought was an attempt at mashed potatoes, though the consistency was closer to paste. Truthfully, she wasn't really eating—more so pushing the food around to look busy.

A few tables away, a cluster of WLF soldiers laughed louder than necessary, their conversation cutting through the room like a jagged blade. Abby wasn’t with them though they were definitely her friends, or acquaintances more like. Alex wondered if that was intentional or if they’d grown tired of trying to match her intensity.

The room itself felt like a relic of time when people gathered here for purposes other than survival—though she couldn’t quite imagine what, being born after the apocalypse had that effect on people. Bright posters peeling on the walls, some faded to the point of illegibility, some of blonde women in unreasonable small clothing items, skinnier than any girl she’d ever seen in real life. She couldn’t quite tell how real those girls were due to the state of the posters but if she had to guess, not very real at all.

Alex glanced toward the door, catching herself doing it for the third or fourth time in the past few minutes. Leah wasn’t back yet. She should’ve been, she almost always found Alex before heading to the dining facility and if she’d not been, she’d give her a heads up so Alex wouldn’t be caught anxiously anticipating her arrival, like right now. Leah’s absence gnawed at the edges of Alex’s mind, a steady, unwelcome pressure. It wasn’t worrying exactly—Leah always came back, after all. But something about the silence tonight felt heavier, colder like it was pressing down on her chest. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes in annoyance at her dependence on Leah’s presence, she turned towards the window. Small flurries stick before melting into uneven patches. The scene outside was a reflection of how cold and desolate she felt inside, but at least it gave her something else to focus on.

Her mind wandered back to Leah’s parting words before the last patrol—a throwaway comment, maybe, but one Alex had been replaying since. “Stay out of trouble while I’m gone alright? I'll be back before dinner and I don’t need two messes to clean up when I get back, Alexandra.” It was meant to be a lighthearted joke but there was a softness in Leah’s voice that Alex couldn’t quite shake. It felt like something more. Like Leah had seen something in her that Alex couldn’t—or wouldn’t.

The fork scraped against the tray again, a grating sound, breaking her out of her thoughts. She exhaled sharply and set it down, her appetite gone. The door to the facility swung open, letting in a gust of cold air and a burst of noise from outside. Alex looked up instinctively, her pulse kicking up despite itself, only to find another squad filling in, stomping snow off their boots and shaking frost from their coats. Abby came in with this group, making brief eye contact before looking away, continuing whatever conversation she was having beforehand. Abby, but no Leah. She settled back in her seat, her lips pressing into a thin line as her eyes fell bad to the half-eaten food on her tray.

Walking through the medical wing, it was unnervingly quiet, save for the faint shuffle of feet somewhere ahead. She knew she was probably being anxious about nothing at all. She’s fine, there’ve been many times I got caught up doing some bullshit I didn’t intend on and missed dinner. She thought to herself, turning a sharp corner, shouldering a guy seemingly in a rush to get somewhere. Hell, some of those times I didn’t even get a chance to find her until the next day. I’m just walking through and she won’t be here because she’s working, like she told me she’d be.

The medical wing smelled sharp, like antiseptic and sweat, a mix that clung to the back of Alex’s throat. Every voice sounded distant, muffled under the weight of her heartbeat pounding in her ears. Rounding one last corner, she was met with the six or so people occupying the beds of the medical care center, somewhere she’d grown to know well in childhood, left alone in the waiting room while Abby did whatever and her father worked. “ You’re too young to be left alone ,” he’d scold whenever she’d express her dismay, only to immediately leave her alone—she supposed the sick and wounded nearby sufficed as babysitters in his mind. Leah was in none of the beds. Exhaling in relief, her heart finally calming, Alex began retracing her steps, haphazardly headed towards Leah’s barrack to await her arrival there when the sound of boots stomping and yelling broke her out of her daze.

Alex’s breath hitched as Jordan emerged, Leah limp in his arms. Blood seeped through her jacket, blooming dark against the fabric. Alex wanted to move, to say something, but her legs felt rooted to the floor. Her throat tightened, the words choking before they could form. All she could do was watch. Knocking herself out of this stupor, she turns on her heel and rushes towards the direction Jordan took Leah. An arrow wound? Those fucking Seraphites , she thinks to herself whilst dazedly watching the scene before her. Jordan turns eventually, seeing the state she's in, and approaches her, gently laying a hand on her shoulder, causing her to look up at him teary-eyed.

“She’s going to be fine, it was just a scrape,” he says, hesitantly pulling Alex into a hug, aware of her slight aversion to physical contact.

“You’re sure?” Alex’s voice cracks around the syllables, burying her face into his chest because he needed comfort, it was his girlfriend, of course, and definitely had nothing to do with the tears threatening to spill over in front of all these people.

“Yes, I’m sure,” he chuckles. “The doctors say she got lucky this time, but she’s fine. A few stitches and a little bedrest and she’s good as new alright?”

“Yeah—okay,” Alex pulled away, hastily wiping her tears before turning to Leah, quickly looking to the doctors in a silent question: Can I touch her? The doctor nodded, stepping aside for Alex and Jordan to approach. Pulling up a seat beside Leah, she grasped her hand tightly, her eyes fixed on Leah’s pale face, her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. She should have felt relief—Jordan said she’d be fine—but the sigh of blood seeping through the bandage made her stomach twist. What if it gets infected? Leah wasn’t supposed to be hurt. She was supposed to be unshakable. Anything else felt like the ground crumbling beneath Alex’s feet. Her grip tightened on Leah’s hand as she noticed Jordan stepping away, his voice low as he spoke to someone around the corner.

“We have a problem. It wasn’t Seraphites,” Abby said, her voice sharp, deliberate and her boots trod heavily into the room, her presence impeding on the area like a storm cloud. “At least, not entirely. We found tracks—different ones—leading away from the outpost. Whoever they are, they wanted to make it look like Seraphites,” her voice dropping into something colder. “The tracks disappeared too cleanly. This wasn’t an accident. It’s a message.”

“Okay… and what does this mean for—”

“You’ll fight.” As if it were that simple. As if she hadn’t spent every waking moment avoiding exactly this. But Abby’s tone left no room for argument, her expression carved from stone, she was a spitting image of their father. Alex bit her tongue, the protest burning just beneath the surface as she stared down at Leah’s hand, cold, and unmoving beneath her own. “Dad would’ve expected more from you,” Abby said flatly, “You’re stronger than you let on. You just don't want to see it,” pausing for a second, she continues. “We head out in the morning, I’ll have your assignment to you by daylight,” her eyes slide back to Leah then up to Jordan by her side, “You’ll be able to stay back I’m sure, at least until she wakes up,” she nods towards Leah.

“But I—You can’t force me into this!” Alex’s voice cracked, betraying the fear she tried to express. “I’m not like you or Leah or Dad—” now fully turning in her chair to fully face her sister, the hold on Leah’s hand growing clamming with how tightly she was gripping it.

Abby’s response cuts her off sharply, asserting control: “You don’t have to be like us. You just have to do your part, you’ll fight,” her voice cold and final. Alex wanted to argue further, to tell her she wasn’t a soldier, that she wasn’t to be relied on. But she could already hear the dismissal in Abby’s tone, the assumption that Alex was too soft to have a real choice. It burned more than she cared to admit, and with that, Abby turned to leave. Alex stayed rooted in her chair, her hand still gripping Leah’s. Abby’s footsteps echoed down the hallway fading into silence. The weight of her sister’s words pressed down on her chest, heavier than the bloodstained bandages beneath her palm. The almost gentle sound of a metal chair being placed beside hers brought her out of her bout of self-pity, looking up at Jordan, him offering a kind smile and gentle hand on the shoulder, more comforting than he could know.

Inhaling deeply after a bit of comfortable silence, Jordan spoke, his voice low and steady, “She’s tough, you know,” he said, his gaze flicking between Leah’s pale face and Alex’s trembling hands. “Leah has been through worse, I assure you, and she always pulls through.” Gently squeezing Alex’s shoulder, he continues, “You’ve got this too, she needs you to hold it together.”

Alex swallowed hard, her fingers tightening on Leah’s hand. Jordan rose, whispering something about grabbing himself a bite to eat before pressing a kiss to Leah’s forehead. As his footsteps descended the hallway, she was left alone with her thoughts. She stared at the bloodstained bandages, Abby’s words still echoing in her mind, and tried to believe him.

Chapter Text

The sun beat down despite the wind being cold and sharp, cutting through layers of clothing and biting into skin like a warning. The dirt path ahead was uneven, littered with frost-laden debris and stray patches of slush. Dead leaves clung stubbornly to the muddy ground, the first signs of spring struggling to make themselves known. The forest loomed, every shadow a threat. Alex scanned the horizon, Leah’s uneven steps grounding her as they pressed on.

Leah walked ahead, her rifle slung loosely over her shoulder, boots crunching with steady resolve. Alex trailed behind, her bow hanging by her side, though her hand stayed close to the quiver on her hip, fingers flexing in time with the creeping unease that had been gnawing at her all morning. The air smelled of damp earth and rot—familiar but no less oppressive. It was the kind of scent that clung to your senses long after you left it behind.

“Why are we hiking?” Alex muttered, her voice low but carrying enough to catch Leah’s ear. “Two months, Leah. Two months, and what’s there to show for it? All this needless violence—”

Leah turned sharply, her eyes scanning the treeline for any sign of movement before her gaze settled on Alex. “I’ve told you we can’t talk about this, Alexandra,” she hissed, her voice hushed but firm. She glanced over her shoulder, checking for listening ears. “Focus. I can’t protect you if you drift. We’re not safe—”

“I don’t need your protection,” Alex cut her off, looking away, her jaw tightening as she cut Leah off. The bitterness in her tone lingered, floating between them like the mist hanging low over the muddy ground.

Leah stopped walking, exhaling heavily before turning to face Alex fully. Her dark eyes bore into Alex’s, a storm brewing behind them. “Abby,” she began, her voice faltering before she steadied herself. “You know better than I do. We won't have this conversation again,” she stated, turning away from Alex, dismissing any words bubbling in her throat.

Alex swallowed hard, her pulse quickening. She opened her mouth to respond, but the weight of Leah’s words hung heavy in her chest. Instead, she shook her head, reaching to grab Leah’s hand, “Leah, we can go . We can! With Jordan—”

“He’ll never leave, you know that. He loves this. Maybe even more than me,” Leah laughed bitterly, the sound dry and hollow echoing through the forest, squeezing Alex’s hand before letting it drop. She turned back, adjusting the strap of her rifle, her movements tense. “You listen to me, Alexandra. You are my family, okay? And I won’t have you—”

Her words were cut short as a sharp whistle pierced the air. Leah’s head snapped towards the sound, her body tensing as if on instinct. Before Alex could process what was happening, Leah was shoving her hard. They both tumbled to the ground, breath rushing from their lungs as they rolled down a shallow hill. Mud and slush clung to their clothes, and the stench of damp earth filled Alex’s nose, sharp and suffocating.

Above them, the whistling sound returned, followed by the unmistakable thud of an arrow embedding itself in a tree trunk just inches from where they’d been standing moments ago. Alex’s heart slammed against her ribs as she struggled to regain her bearings, her fingers fumbling for her bow. Leah was already on her feet, her rifle raised, scanning the treeline for movement.

“Seraphites,” Leah muttered under her breath, her voice barely audible over the pounding in Alex’s ears. “Stay low. Keep moving.”

Alex didn’t need to be told twice. The world around her blurred as adrenaline surged through her veins. The serene, oppressive stillness of the forest was gone, replaced by the chaos of arrows whistling through the air and the sound of her own ragged breathing.

An arrow whizzed past Alex’s face. Diving behind a tree, fingers trembling as she nocked her own bow, she took the shot. The Seraphite crumbled to the ground almost immediately. She could hear Leah behind her firing off rounds, pecking off the Seraphites one by one sparingly with her bullets. A stealth about her that could only be learned through many battles. Alex moved with that same unwavering intensity, silent while steadily picking off Seraphites, her, and her bow. At times like this, when her head cleared and her breath stilled, focusing on the kill rather than anything else, she thought bitterly, I guess Dad did a good job at carving out fighting machines if nothing else .

Turning sharply to her left, she bolted at a Seraphite making a poor, reckless attempt at ambushing her, tackling the girl to the ground, raising her knife to put the Seraphite out of her misery when a bullet planted itself right through the girl’s throat. She’s young—no older than me—

“Keep moving,” Leah called out, reloading her rifle as she backpedaled, briefly clutching her abdomen, where she’d been shot all those weeks ago, “We’re sitting ducks here!”

Another whistle—this time, the arrow hurrying itself into Leah’s shoulder. She stumbled, letting out a sharp cry as Alex found the owner of the arrow and, not even thinking, sent one of her own through the air, right through his heart. “Fuck, Leah you’re hit!” She turned, watching Leah grit her teeth, gripping the arrow and ripping it from her shoulder, blood blooming immediately against her jacket as she fired wildly into the trees.

“I’m fine,” she snapped, her face paling, breathing gone ragged, a fire burning in her eyes, “It’s just a scratch.”

Before Alex could argue, distantly, the harrowing screams of runners pierced through the air. The whistling and arrows flying from the Seraphites immediately came to a halt,  the forest eerily silent as Leah ran to her, “Fall back fall back,” she whispered across the muddled greenery.

“They must’ve followed my gunfire.” Leah muttered, her voice tight with pain, sweat beading at her temple, “Shit.”

Turning to send one more arrow through the air at the nearest Seraphite, Alex could hardly exhale before Leah was yanking her up with her good arm, pulling her away from the aggressively snapping twigs and agonizing screeches of the runners.

Ahead, the trees thinned out, revealing a rusty old shed, both Leah and Alex hurling themselves towards it, the sounds of Leah’s grunting as she ran becoming hard for Alex to ignore as she glanced over her shoulder to be met with a dangerously paling Leah. Slamming the rusted door shut, just as another group of infected slammed into the other side, Alex looked at Leah panic quickly painting her features as she watched Leah lean over, weight supported by her rifle, as her stomach emptied itself of the little food they’d eaten earlier that morning.

“We can’t stay here,” she pleaded, watching as Leah’s energy visibly depleted, her taking a knee in an attempt to gather herself, “Leah—FUCK!”

“I know, Alexandra, just please—a second to think,” she pleaded, panting and wobbly on her knee meant to be supporting her weight. Clutching at her bleeding shoulder, Leah nodded, “We need—“

A sound cut her off. Footfall, deliberate and controlled, just outside the shed. Alex froze, tense, her grip tightening around her bow as she took in the figure in front of her through the stained glass. The figure moved through the trees, ghostlike in its silence, another, smaller figure, following closely behind. They danced around each other, perfectly practiced together, obviously close. 

Green eyes. 

Alex’s breath hitched, a chill running down her spine as she inhaled the stale, steely air the moist shed marinated itself in, Oh , Leah looked at her in confusion. It was her—the girl from the cabin—this time with a companion, the sight of her made Alex’s chest tighten—not fear but something sharper. It unsettled her in a way she couldn’t name. The girl was crouched low, her expression grim as she haunted toward the infected, as intimidating as that morning they met. Subconsciously, Alex’s free hand found the small scar the girl’s blade had left in the center of her throat. For a fleeting moment, knife gleaming in her hand, that same knife , they made eye contact through the dirty glass. 

The unnamed girl’s gaze lingered on Alex, sharp and unreadable, before turning back to her companion, whispering something to her before turning away, taking out a runner. The other figure, a dark-haired girl, didn’t have the same grace about her that the brunette seemed to exude. The other figure tripped over a root, recovering clumsily with a hiss of frustration. The green-eyed girl glanced in their direction, eyes hardening before turning back to the task at hand. Her companion, well—their strikes were effective but lacked the lethal force and precision behind her counterpart. A rookie? A child maybe? Whoever they were, she trusted them enough to watch her back, though the inexperience was palpable.

Turning her attention back to the other, she watched as, without hesitation, the girl darted forward, her movements swift and lethal. Her knife found its mark in a Runner's neck, then another's, her small frame twisting and dodging with practiced ease. Alex watched, frozen, as she moved through the chaos like a shadow, her precision terrifying and mesmerizing in equal measure.

"What are you staring at?" Leah snapped, pulling herself to her feet before slinging her weapon over her unwounded shoulder, dragging Alex back to reality. "We need to move before they decide we're next, I can run. You’ll lead, don’t look back,” she orders Alex sternly, the most serious she thinks she’s ever seen her. Alex could hear the hints of insecurity etching themselves into Leah’s speech. Fuck .

The infected were thinning, their numbers dwindling under Ellie's relentless assault. But the Seraphites weren't gone—Alex caught the glint of a spear in the trees, a reminder that the fight was far from over.

"Let's go," Alex whispered, her voice barely audible. She grabbed Leah's uninjured arm, attempting to support her weight, Leah shrugged her off, nudging her ahead and following her. Together, they slipped out the back of the shed, keeping low as they disappeared from the fight into the forest. Leah faltered, stabilizing herself on a tree, her breaths shallow and sharp. Alex hesitated, glancing back to see the sweat on Leah’s brow and neck, bleeding down into the neckline of her shirt barely visible behind her puffer vest, despite the biting cold, and the paleness of her skin. 

“I’m fine,” Leah muttered, but the tremor in her voice said otherwise, strengthening Alex’s worry as much as her resolve. Leah was growing weaker, slower. I’ll get you back to the compound if it’s the last thing I do. The words looped through her mind as they journeyed through fallen trees and slushy dirt, Alex having to occasionally pick off a runner that’d strayed from its group, all while keeping a close eye on Leah, who stumbled repeatedly, her breath hitching each time as she pressed a trembling hand to get wound, “Keep moving,” she’d hiss, a cloud of cold air blooming from her lips. Though her voice was weaker now, each word harder than the last.

The sounds of the battle faded behind them, and while Alex was determined to get Leah back safely, she couldn't shake the image of that girl. Why did her presence feel like both, a threat and a promise? The ferocity in her movements, the way their eyes locked onto one another—it wasn’t fear, but something deeper, sharper. She moves so confidently, skilled to say the least. The two moments were both fleeting, but she'd left a mark. And Alex couldn't shake the feeling that the girl wasn’t for survival, but that it was deliberate, carving her way through the chaos towards something—or someone.

Chapter Text

The rain beat into the side of her face, the cold sending a frigid ache through Alex’s bones as she turned to glance at Leah, practically blue and shivering violently. Fuck this , she thought, dragging Leah through the deserted streets towards a seemingly abandoned theater, the only building that seemed to have four stable walls and a door to close. Barging in, the inside of the theater almost as wintry as the frosty rain beating down outside. Alex takes in the scene before them, closing the door shut, throwing Leah’s arm over her shoulder to support her weight, walking down the center aisle. It was obvious that someone was inhabiting the area, blankets folded neatly towards the far right corner of the stage, fresh food wrappers thrown askew, and a half-drunken jug of water near the aforementioned blankets. A fresh fire near the discarded food items. So we’ll hide—we have no choice.

Quickly scanning the area, she notices a rounding stairwell. It is going to be a bitch dragging you up these stairs , she thinks, though her thoughts are mildly disrupted by Leah’s heavy panting in her ear, her head now leaned fully onto Alex’s shoulder, mouth pressed into her soaking wet scarf, preventing her groans from being heard from a distance. How am I going to get us dry? Alex starts toward the stairwell, climbing them one step at a time, cringing at the loud creaking of the steel stairs protesting against her and Leah’s weight. Finally reaching the top of the stairwell, Leah now losing her ability to stand completely, knees buckling and body turned almost fully into Alex who was supporting the weight of them both, sweat beading at her temple as she inhaled the stale air, dusty with lack of use in the past—God knows how long. Coughing to the left of her to avoid Leah, she shuffles them over to the farthest corner, near a window. It seems nobody has been up here. We can ride out the storm here, then we leave at sunrise. Lowering Leah to the ground slowly, Alex looks around, spotting some cardboard boxes shoved behind some piping. Pulling it free, she begins cutting, fixing the cardboard cuttings into a makeshift pallet for Leah to rest at least somewhat comfortably. Carefully unslinging Leah’s weapon from her good shoulder, she leans it against a wall. Already having taken both their backpacks, she unslings them both, placing them on either side of the rifle to avoid it clattering to the ground loudly later.

The cold air upstairs was harsher than the drafty main floor below, biting through the theater’s worn walls like needles. Shadows flickered on peeling wallpaper, the distant patter of rain echoing through the hollow space, the faint smell of mildew and ash from a fire long extinguished wafting through the attic with every gust of wind. Every creak of the rafters above set Alex’s teeth on edge, amplifying the silence between Leah’s strained breaths. Shadows from the stormy sky danced on the peeling wallpaper, their erratic movements mimicking the unease swirling in Alex’s chest with every sharp intake of breath she heard from Leah. The faint smell of damp wood and milder lingered in the air, mixing with the sharp tang of rust from the long-abandoned metal seats scattered across this makeshift storage attic. The sound of dripping water echoed faintly from somewhere deeper in the building, a rhythmic tick that seemed to grow louder with each passing second. The dim light filtering through shattered windows cast jagged shapes across the floor, highlighting a dried puddle of blood seeped deep into the flooring a few feet away. Alex crouched low, her breath fogging faintly in front of her, heart hammering in her chest as she strained to hear beyond the sound of the storm outside. The distant rumble of thunder provided a low, ominous soundtrack to the area. She hadn’t meant to invade the hollow space—but the emptiness was safer than the chaos outside. At least for now. Spring my ass, haven’t seen a flower bloom yet , she thought bitterly to herself, turning towards Leah, taking in her appearance. Her lips paled from the blood loss, the shivers increasing in frequency and her skin almost as pale as the time she'd been shot with an arrow through the torso. Steeling herself and deciding her next move, Alex’s eyes honed in on the blooming blood stain almost fully engulfing the left side of Leah’s torso.

“Leah,” she whispered urgently, “Come on, lay down here,” She pulled at her gently, Leah pulling her arm into a death grip at the pain that shoots through her shoulder, the wounded arm now limp, not having moved for a concerning amount of time, still bleeding. “Fuck, I’m gonna have to tourniquet this okay? It’s gonna hurt like a bitch,” she informs, unbuckling her belt and ripping it from her waist, wrapping it quickly around Leah’s shoulder to get it over with, pulling as hard as she could. Leah jolted forward, her hand clawing at Alex’s thigh as she let out a blood-curdling shriek, Alex slapping a hand over her mouth before it could fully get out, “I know, I know. I’m sorry,” she pleaded, tears beginning to tell in her eyes at the tears streaming from Leah’s. “It’s fine now. The bleeding should slow, yeah?” 

Wincing in pain, Leah shook her face free of the hand blocking her breathing, panting into the cold, musty air encapsulating them. Allowing Alex to lay her down, visibly attempting to slow her breathing, she looked over at Alex, staring at her with worry and pain clouding her features. Reaching a shaky hand up towards Alex’s face, “I’ll be okay, you’ve got us,” she whispers, Alex reaching up to squeeze the clammy hand wiping a stray tear from her cheek. “Let me rest now, it's just a scratch, you worry too much,” she wheezed, cracking a slight smile through her cracked lips, the words doing nothing to soothe the ache in Alex’s chest, choking her up. Pulling her hand back, Leah looked up to the ceiling—the look in her eye less than comforting, surely she’d thought Alex wouldn’t see—before closing her eyes, her breath evening out seconds after closing her eyes. Shallow, but steady. Exhaling heavily and wiping her eyes, she unwraps her scarf from her neck, pressing a hand to Leah’s forehead, scalding—like I thought, then placing the damp cloth to her head in an attempt to lower her fever. 

The hours passed in tense silence, Alex’s sense attuned to every groan of the building and Leah’s uneven breaths. She almost missed the distant sound of the door creaking open below, the echo carrying faint voices with it, the sound of their boots heavy as they stalked through the theater, one paid coming dangerously close to the bottom of the stairwell she’d just recently climbed with Leah. Fuck , she looked down at the trail of water droplets leading directly to where she sat, praying the person was nowhere near where she thought—knew—they were. Slowly sitting herself up, her bow gripped tightly in her, fingers twitching at her quiver before sending a glance at a groaning, pale Leah, she turned back to their only entrance and exit. Listening, waiting.

A man, she concludes, listening as he mutters something to himself gruffly, the sound of what she can only assume is his backpack hitting the ground softly as he rummages around, a click, then a flashlight flickering on, up towards the stairwell maybe 15 feet in front of her. With bated breath, she listens closely, the sound of water dripping amplifies tenfold as a heavy boot plants itself on the bottom step, creaking loudly before pausing, “I’ll check the top floor,” he calls out in a weird accent, towards the opposite direction to Alex, jostling Leah slightly, her turning a bit towards the wall. Swiftly, silently, Alex stalks into the blind spot behind a curtain to the left of the stairwell, knife tight in her hand and her heartbeat being the only thing she can hear besides the heavy steps of the man surely approaching. The footsteps stop, the flashlight searching the room only to land on Leah’s sleeping, feverish body, completely disregarding the two backpacks laid near her body. Whistling lowly to himself, the man takes a few steps forward, completely missing Alex in the shadows, hit suddenly with the stench of cigarettes and sweat-soaked letter invading her senses, enough to make her gag, as he begins unbuckling his belt, calculatedly walking towards her. Breath hitching as her heart stopped; Alex stepped forward, steeled herself, and struck with practiced precision. Her blade breaching the man’s throat, a nauseating gurgling sound erupting from him as blood fell from his lips, Alex twisting the blade before driving it through his skull. His scraggly beard scraped her hand as the man’s body hit the ground with a sickening thud, but Alex barely felt relief, he was going to —her eyes darting up to Leah, still unconscious, no, focus . She swallowed the bile rising in her throat, honing back in on the sounds below them. There was no room for remorse—not yet. Someone calls to him, asking if he’s alright presumably. She barely registered the gurgling sounds behind her, a cold numbness spread through her body, pushing any lingering guilt aside. It’s for Leah , she told herself, the words acting as a blanket of resilience pushing her forward. There was no time for hesitation—not here, not now. There can only be two other people here with him at the most, unless the rest are dead silent, Alex reasons, deciding to take her chances. Silently she rounds the corner of the stairwell, an eagle-eye view of the entire theater, taking in the man and woman accompanying this one before nocking her arrow back on her bow, immediately dropping the body of the man that turned just in time to make eye contact with her, before he could even process what was happening. The woman, further away, was rummaging through the food left by, presumably, whoever took residence here, she had a long blonde braid and strong shoulders, she looks like Abby , Alex thought to herself, and in a moment of weakness, she almost faltered, her pulse spiked, collecting herself before that train of thought could spiral, this wasn’t Abby—this was someone else, someone who would kill her if she ever dared falter. The smell of mildew mixing unpleasantly with the blood leaking from the man behind her. Turning her stomach even further. The woman heard the body of her companion drop, turning towards him and in turn, her, before raising her pistol, anguish written on her features that quickly fell, her body crumbling through the ground as Alex planted two arrows in her in quick succession.

Exhaling, she turned back to Leah, eyes flickering to the cigarette smoke-encrusted dead body, back to Leah, still in the state she’d left her in, though her nose scrunched briefly before her face melting back into its ever-persistent pained grimace. Shuffling over to Leah, she dropped to her knees, energy depleting as she rested her head on Leah’s chest, Just wake up and be fine so we can go, please, she begged silently, reaching a shaky hand out to grab one of Leah’s cold ones, pulling it to her chest in an attempt to ease the ocean of emotions threatening to swallow her whole. She didn’t know how long she sat there, the rain outside growing into a distant hum, thunder rolling in the background like the steady beat of her racing heart.

Her nose wrinkled at the copper tang of blood lingering in the air, mixing with the smell of sweat and mildew. Her eyes flicked to the man still sprawled on the ground, belt still unbuckled, now in a puddle of blood. Serves him damn right , she thought to herself, staring daggers into his cold body. Turning back to Leah, she removed the scarf from her forehead, checking her temperature again, before turning the scarf to its cooler side with a sigh, wiping the sweat from her face before placing the scarf back on her forehead, settling down beside her with a hand hovering over Leah’s heart.

Time stretched endlessly in the musty theater, the sound of distant rain the only anchor tethering Alex to the present. She sat, willing Leah’s chest to rise and fall steadily, her mind drifting further and further until—

The cold press of steel against her temple jolted her awake, her heart slamming into her ribs. Her eyes flew open, pupils dilating as those familiar green eyes peered down at her, predatory and unyielding. The adrenaline surging through her veins like a liquid fire, a low growl catching in her throat as the girl’s voice cut through the haze. 

“If you move a fucking inch I will pull the trigger,” she bit out into the cold air, breath fogging the air between them.

Alex swallowed hard, nodding slowly as her eyes flicked towards Leah, now slightly further away, thinking distantly that she must've rolled away from her in her sleep. When did I even fucking fall asleep? She forced herself to breathe through the panic rising in her chest, her voice trembling as she said, “Listen we—”

“No, I talk,” those green eyes snapped at her, voice low and eerily calm, pressing the muzzle of her pistol harder into Alex’s temple. “Are you following me?”

“Wha—No, she's wounded. My sister.”

“Ellie,” a voice called, Startling Alex. She hadn’t even heard the figure ascend the stairs. The woman—shorter, with warm eyes and a calming presence—hovered hesitantly by, the girl, Ellie’s side, her hand resting on her stomach, Ellie turned slightly towards her without taking her eyes off of Alex, “Ellie, she's a kid.”

“I’m eighteen—”

“Stop speaking,” Ellie spits, exhaling as the shorter girl places a hand on her shoulder, some of the tension leaving her body though the steel was still pressed cold against Alex’s temple. This interaction between the two of them—brought forward this ugly feeling in Alex, something she’d never felt before. It almost felt like fear but… different? A burning sensation arose in her chest, a strange spurt of anger flooding through her body. The only time she’d felt something similar was as a child when her dad would take Abby on little excursions to view different greenery at different outposts, leaving her to be babysat in the medical wing by nurses. Friendly nurses, but strangers nonetheless. What is this? Am I jeal—

“How hurt is your friend? I’m Dina,” a satchel resting at her hip, a gentle smile painting her lips. She's pretty , Alex thought, almost bitterly, taking in the girl's appearance, her gentle eyes, and full hair, a healthy glow to her skin despite the cold, eyes lingering on the hand placed gently on her stomach.

“We shouldn’t—”

“She’s very hurt. Can you help?” Alex sat up slightly, pleading, before the weapon pressed even further into her, halting any anticipated movement.

Reaching out, Dina lowered Ellie’s weapon, crouching to her side, glancing behind the two of them to Leah, and back.

“She, dangerous, Dina,” Ellie said sharply, reaching for her arm. Her eyes flicked to Alex sitting up now, scooting away from the two of them, closer to Leah, her gaze full of doubt, “Sick or not, they're not our problem,” she reasoned, pointing towards the dead man across the room exasperatedly.

“We don’t get to pick who deserves kindness, Ellie,” she replies easily, taking another step towards Alex.

Placing a hand on one of Leah’s grounding herself, Alex spoke up. “I was defending myself and my sister. And quite frankly they’d have robbed your ass blind if they’d been able to kill me.”

“Hey, it’s alright. I have a medical kit okay?” she soothed, nodding while patting the satchel, the look in her eye reminded Alex of Leah, kind-hearted, “Ellie, move,” she ordered without malice, shewing her away before moving to crouch down beside Leah’s feverish, panting body. Looking up to Alex for silent permission, which she granted with an enthusiastic, pleading nod, backing away slightly while mindful of Ellie lingering nearby. “What happened here,” Dina questioned gently, almost to herself.

“An arrow, she removed it herself and I think the bleeding has slowed but I don’t know what to do and I didn’t want to rummage through—”

“Hey, hey, it’s fine, I’ll have to stitch her up. It’ll hurt and she’ll likely pass out eventually but we need to stitch this wound, okay?”

Alex nodded at her, moving around to the other side as Dina rummaged through her satchel, taking out antiseptic, a needle and thread, bandages, and gauze before removing the satchel to place the items on top of as a makeshift table of sorts. Turning to Ellie, Dina motioned for her to come close, which she did, eyeing Alex wearily, placing a possessive hand on Dina’s shoulder, Dina shrugging her off before tending to her work. Slowly, Dina unclasped the makeshift tourniquet from her shoulder, resulting in a jerk and a wince from Leah, though she’d not yet woken up. She did wake up while they were removing her jacket and shirt, wiggling her fingers with a whine, Great they still work thank heavens , Alex thought offhandedly. She could tell Leah was trying to steel herself for the pain, the sweat beading on her lip a telltale sign of her body working overtime to heal itself. At the first touch of antiseptic, Leah jerked in their hold violently, Alex applying all her body weight for Dina to clean her wound, then lifting her despite Leah’s body’s protest to clean the exit wound, placing a gauze beneath her while laying her down. All the while Dina whispered words of assurance as Alex sat silently, willing her tears away with any words she thought stuck in her throat. Threading the needle, Dina gave the three of them one last look, the scarf long since fallen off Leah’s forehead as she panted up at the three of them, locking eyes with Alex as she saw Dina bringing the needle towards her.

Leah’s body tensed as Dina began stitching, her breath hitching with every pull of the needle through her skin. She’d been through this many times before and it never got better. Alex flinched at every twitch and muffled groan that escaped her lips, guilt clawing at her chest like a living thing. She reached one hand down to hold Leah’s hand but stopped short, resuming her assistance in holding her down.

Dina noticed this conflict in her, saying softly, her voice firm but not unkind, “This’ll be faster if she doesn’t move, keep holding her still.”

Leah whimpered softly, her breaths coming in short gasps as Dina continued stitching. Alex could feel the tension in her muscles beneath her hands, the faint trembling of her body like a taut wire ready to snap. “Just a little longer,” Dina muttered, her focus unwavering as she tired off another stitch, “You’re doing great, Leah.”

Ellie hovered nearby, her arms crossed, shifting her weight from one foot to another. Her gaze flicked between Dina’s precise movements and Alex’s rigid stance, her sharp green eyes narrowing slightly as she observed.

“You don’t have to stare,” Alex muttered without looking up, her voice low and strained.

Ellie raised an eyebrow, her tone dry. “Not staring. Just making sure she doesn’t bleed out onto the cardboard before Dina finishes.”

Alex shot her a glare, but the tension in her shoulders didn’t ease. She turned her attention back to Leah, gently brushing the damp strands of hair away from her face. “You’re okay,” she whispered, more to herself than Leah, before they sat her up to repeat the process on the exit wound. Finally placing gauze on the stitched wounds and wrapping her shoulder with bandages, redressing her as best as possible to protect her from the elements.

“Done,” Dina announced, sitting back and wiping her hands on the cloth. She glanced at Leah, who had slipped into an uneasy stillness, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. “She needs rest, but she’ll pull through.”

Alex exhaled shakily, her trembling hands moving from Leah’s shoulders back to her hand, grasping it tightly. “Thank you,” she said quietly, her voice barely audible.

Dina nodded, her expression softening as she began packing away her medical supplies, Ellie hovering closely behind her. “You should get some rest too,” she glanced meaningfully at Alex, “You look like you've been through hell.”

Alex didn’t respond, her gaze fixed on Leah’s pale face, thoughts muddled by the sharp tang of blood in the air. Her hand twitched slightly under hers as if she was reaching for something in her sleep, Alex instinctively tightening her hold. The faint grip she felt in return sent a small surge of relief through her chest.

Ellie stepped forward, her grimy Converse scuffing against the floor. “We’ll keep watch,” she said simply. Her tone devoid of the earlier sharpness. “You’re no good to her if you pass out. I guess I’ll take care of him too,” she gestured towards the man across the room, Dina stood to step around Ellie, not before gently grabbing her hand, thumb rubbing across Ellie’s palm while pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth, a simple gesture—quick, familiar, grounding—before taking her leave, waving kindly to Alex one last time before descending the stairwell. 

Ellie’s sharp eyes lingered on Dina until she was gone, distracted, I could probably kill her right now , Alex thought idly, the thought feeling alien, unwelcome before she turned her attention back to Alex who stared at her warily, having closely watched the display, again feeling that indescribable hostility towards their interaction, her ears, bright red in color, betraying her otherwise unshaken demeanor. Her fingers clenched involuntarily around Leah’s blanket, her jaw tight.

“Fine,” Alex said finally, her voice clipped. She adjusted Leah’s makeshift blanket, fingertips brushing gently over her forehead. “But if anything happens—”

“Nothing will,” Ellie cut in, her voice steady and firm, though her ever-analyzing eyes taking in every inch of Alex’s face, her body language as if she could feel the storm brewing below the surface. The intensity in her gaze pinned Alex in place, and for a fleeting second, Alex swore she felt something strange pass between them—something she couldn’t name. Her gut twisted with unfamiliar intrigue, tinged with unease. Ellie’s expression softened just slightly. “Just rest,” she murmured, her tone quieter now, as though coaxing rather than commanding.

Alex hesitated a moment longer, her body unmoving, watching Ellie with guarded eyes as she stepped back into the shadows, around the man sprawled on the floor. Slowly, Alex allowed herself to sink to the ground beside Leah. Her back pressed against the cold, unforgiving wall, her bow resting within arm’s reach, her fingers brushing idly against the grip as her eyes grew heavy.

The faint hum of of Ellie and Dina’s voices drifted faintly from below, mingling with the distant patter of rain against the theater’s decaying walls. Alex’s face flicked to Leah once more, tracing the lines of her face, the vulnerability pained on her face strengthening her resolve even in her exhaustion. I’ll get us home , she thought with finality as her eyes followed the rhythmic rise and fall of Leah’s chest was her only comfort as sleep began to pull Alex under, her mind caught between wary vigilance and reluctant surrender.

For now, it was enough.

Chapter Text

The cold breeze wafting through the open attic was the first thing Alex felt upon stirring lightly, curling further into Leah’s feverish body beside her, vaguely acknowledging the steady rise and fall of her breaths, a sharp contrast to only 12 hours ago.

“Hey,” a cold Converse nudged her shoulder furthest from Leah slightly, eyes fluttering open to meet Ellie’s. It was not as cold as their previous encounters, but stern nonetheless. “Get up.”

“I’m up,” Alex replied immediately, sitting up while rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Casting a glance towards Leah, still asleep, she sighed before pulling herself up, noting the heavy downpour from the night before had faded into a soft pitter-patter against the window nearest they’d slept. Turning to face Ellie expectantly, she stood in wait.

Without so much as letting her get her footing, Ellie turned sharply, “Follow me,” she said over her shoulder, her Converse echoing on the creaky steel stairs as she vanished below. Huh, I guess she did take care of his body , she thought passively, quickly bending to tighten Leah’s sad attempt at a blanket around her shoulders before grabbing her bow and crossing the room. Ellie had an air of impatience about her as she watched Alex hastily descend the stairs, tightening the ponytail her long hair had been in for days now.

“I need your help,” she states flatly with a heavy sigh, seemingly annoyed by the situation already despite it not even being daylight yet. “Dina—she’s pregnant and I can’t have her coming out scouting with me, it's not safe.”

Taking a hesitant step forward, “Okay… so where do I come into play here?”

“I don’t want your help, let’s start here,” that familiar look of disdain morphing Ellie’s features. “Who are you with?”

“I—Nobody. I’m my own,” she says, heart rate picking up ever so slightly as Ellie casts her a look that clearly says she doesn’t believe her. Leah can’t move yet , she reminded herself. Don’t fuck this up . Calming herself she continues, “My sister and I, we’re just passing through, hence her not being expecting to be shot by an arrow out of nowhere,” she chuckles awkwardly, a hand reaching up to tug at her earlobe gently before dropping down to her side.

Ellie follows this movement, her hesitancy showing in her movements and her next words. “Just—no questions. Get your bag,” her eyes darting up to the top of the stairs. “We leave in fifteen. And your friend—Dina says she can come down by the fire,” she finishes before turning away from Alex, and disappearing into the room behind her, Alex catching a glimpse of Dina, hearing her say something illegible to Ellie before the door closes in her face.

Turning back towards the stairs, she makes her way towards Leah, strengthening her resolve in preparation for whatever fight was likely to ensue. “Hey,” she whispers, placing a hand on Leah’s uninjured shoulder before shaking her gently to wake her.”

Groaning softly, Leah’s eyes flutter up to hers, pain flickering across her features before softening as she focuses on Alex, “Good morning?” a questioning lilt to her voice as she takes in the fact that it’s certainly not daylight yet. Noting that her voice was much stronger than the last time she’d spoken, Alex smiled gently, a slight sigh of relief leaving her lips.

“Dina—the one that stitched you, she says you can come downstairs by the fire. Can you walk, I’m going soon, some scouting apparently?” she informs, wondering why the name felt so wrong on her tongue as she turns towards her bag, slinging it over her shoulders before unsheathing her knife, inspecting it before glancing up at the worried look Leah’s placing on her as she rises slowly, pointedly ignoring it.

“Scouting? Wh—”

“You’re hurt, and I need them to trust me, at least until you can move,” Alex said, ignoring the pang of guilt in her chest. She’d not wanted to leave Leah—not like this—but there was no choice now. Still not looking up she continues. “I’ve a feeling we shouldn’t mention the WLF,” now looking up hesitantly, a silent plea in her eye.

“Alexandra if I need to fight—”

“You won’t. I’ve got this covered, okay? You just go warm up… and leave the rifle, would you? Maybe they’ll spare you breakfast?” she interrupted gently, a smile not quite reaching her eyes plastering her face, doing nothing to reassure Leah’s obvious worry. She stood, holding out a hand for Leah to take, pulling her up gently. She turned away, still feeling Leah’s knowing eyes burning into the back of her head. With a glance back, she motioned for Leah to follow. Hesitantly, she did. Both descending the stairs, Alex takes note of the empty theater, the smell of damp wood engulfing the area for some reason. Turning towards Alex to help her to the fire burning towards the back center of the hard flooring of the stage. This has to be a damn fire hazard, she thought to herself with a soft chuckle, Leah turning to look at her knowingly as she let Alex guide her to the fire, casting a glance at her bandages barely covered by the jacket strewn across her shoulders. “There ya go,” Alex murmured more to herself than anything as she helped Leah lower herself, then make herself as comfortable as possible, reaching her hands out dangerously close to the fire eagerly with a small grin, the first semblance of warmth they’d felt since arriving here. Alex took a seat beside her, choosing to enjoy the closeness while she could before she’d be forced to take her leave. “I think your fever has gone down,” Alex says conversationally, gently placing the palm of her now warm hand on Leah’s forehead.

“I had a fever?” Leah questions, closing her eyes at the warmth radiating from Alex’s hand.

“Like hell, you did,” chuckling again before continuing softly, a distant look in her eye, “I thought—” she starts before she’s almost immediately interrupted by Ellie. Loudly making her presence known, the door closing harshly behind her, as both Leah and Alex turned to take in her appearance. She runs a shaky hand through her hair before exhaling sharply.

“Let’s go,” she calls out wearily in Alex’s direction, not even looking in her direction before hopping down to the ground floor, a new determination in her strut as she approaches the double doors. Sharing a hesitant look with Leah, Alex gently nudged her forehead with a playful grin as she stood, winking as she turned towards the direction of the double doors. Hopping down the same as Ellie did, she checked her arrows and the magazine of the pistol on her hip she seldom used before stopping a few paces behind Ellie. With Alex's eyes following her hands closely, Ellie removed the thick slab of wood jammed between the two bars of the theater door.

“Am I allowed to ask where we’re going?” Alex questioned sarcastically as she followed Ellie outside, hit with the soft sprinkle of rain immediately, the salty air assaulting her lungs as she took a deep inhale. She’d always loved the smell of rain.

“Don’t get snarky with me—Stay close,” Ellie said flatly, dismissing any chance at conversation Alex may have toyed with the idea of starting. So tense—what is she? 30? She wondered to herself, taking Ellie’s figure as they crept through the early morning deserted streets to an unknown location, remembering the faint voices she heard from across the stage coming from the room Ellie had disappeared into along with her disgruntled appearance when she’d finally stepped out. Trouble in paradise? She speculated, why do I even care?

“Hey,” Ellie called out sharply, snapping her out of her thoughts. “Focus, unless you like the idea of being torn alive by runners?” Annoyance flooded through her veins immediately at the commanding tone, scarily similar to the way Abby has spoken to her for—just about their entire lives.

“Let’s not forget—I’m forced to be here,” Alex muttered, her annoyance spilling over as she glared daggers into the back of Ellie’s head. The audacity of her tone was grating, a sharp reminder of every snide comment she’d endured from Abby. That irritation only festered, even as her attention inexplicably shifted to how Ellie’s hair fell so perfectly against her neck—even in an apocalypse.

“Oh, so you’d prefer to die then?” Ellie scoffed, her scarred eyebrow raised as she glanced back indifferently before disappearing swiftly around a sharp left corner into a dark alleyway. The stench of decaying bodies turning Alex’s stomach as a distant creak of a pipe echoed faintly, setting her nerves alight and pushing her irritation further towards outright anger. That indifferent look in Ellie’s eye pissing her off beyond measure.

Reaching a ladder, Alex watches as Ellie tests its security before gracefully ascending the ladder, almost silently, as if she’d done this a million times over. Her familiarity with the area raises questions in Alex. Her eyes lingered on the bow and arrows wrapped neatly around Ellie’s backpack— could she be —?

“Hello,” Ellie snapped—literally snapped her fingers at her—from halfway up the ladder, obviously impatient. “Death wish or not, we don’t have time for this,” she said before continuing her ascent up the ladder, Alex now following behind with a bit less grace than her oh-so-pleasant companion.

“You know,” Alex begins as she watches Ellie remove her backpack, reaching into it with familiarity before pulling out a wrench, taking a step towards a door that they very clearly should probably leave locked. “You don’t have to be such an asshole,” she states, voice fogging the air between them as she stood to Ellie’s right, watching her as she concentratedly cut the lock keeping whatever was in the room before them in, Alex pulling out her knife in preparation for whatever may be in the room. Her fingers gripped the knife tightly, more out of frustration than fear.

“Now you’re making demands?” Ellie’s eyes slid up to hers indifferently. Alex felt the briefest pull of heat low in her chest leaving her disoriented, her breathing slowing as she noticed for the first time how freckled Ellie was. Rising slowly to eye level as she screwed a silencer onto her pistol, Ellie took a step toward Alex while maintaining intense eye contact between them, rain now trickling down her face, dripping slowly from the tip of her nose as she ran her tongue quickly over her bottom lip before speaking. “You do as I say when I say. I’ve got your back—so you have mine.” Quickly turning away from Alex and breaking her out of the trance she’d unknowingly put her in. Ellie placed her hand on the rusted door handle before saying lowly over her shoulder, “I’m almost sure there are clickers in here—save whatever’s brewing in that little head of yours for after we clear out this building.” and with that, she pried the door open as quietly as possible, leaving only enough space for herself and Alex to slip through, motioning for Alex to do so, a clattering on the other side of the door making her hesitate for not even a second before she felt Ellie closely behind her, the door loudly announcing their arrival.

Almost immediately, a faint, guttural clicking sound grew louder, and then chaos erupted as clickers haphazardly ran towards the disruption. Both Alex and Ellie moved quickly, silently taking cover on opposite ends of the room, Ellie crouched before a barred window and Alex crouched beside a counter of sorts, waiting.

The first loud slam of the door came quickly, reverberating throughout the room, causing dust to fall from the cracked ceiling. Alex tenses, gripping her knife tighter as she glances at Ellie across the room. Ellie remains crouched, her pistol raised, steady, waiting. The clickers’ guttural screeches fill the space as the door groans under their weight. Another slam, louder than the last. How long until they get through? Alex wondered, heart pounding, but Ellie looked unbothered, her eyes fixed on the door, calm but sharp. A few minutes pass, screeching and clawing at the door before it splinters open, the clickers stumbling inside. I’ll never get over how ugly they are, all Alex can think as she watches their movements halt upon finding the room eerily silent.

The clickers sway in place, their heads snapping left to right as they listen for even the slightest sound. The tension in the room is suffocating, Alex holding her breath as one of the creatures takes a single step closer to her. Alex steals another glance at Ellie, who hasn’t moved an inch. Her pistol remains aimed at the clicker closest to her, body coiled like a spring. For a brief moment, Alex envies her composure. Then, the clicker nearest Ellie twitches, a guttural growl escaping it. Ellie’s hand tightens on the pistol. With a swift, deliberate movement, she takes aim, her silencer muffing the two consecutive shots she placed in the clickers—head—if you’d call it that. The clicker crumbles to the floor, further agitating its friend, Ellie already moving toward Alex’s side of the room as her eyes lock onto the second clicker. Without saying a word, Ellie’s sharp gaze shifts to Alex, silently commanding her to act.

The remaining clicker twitches, its head snapping in Alex’s direction. Her heart races, but her grip on the knife is firm. She rises slowly from her crouch, stepping carefully as her boots barely make a sound against the floor. Don’t think. Just do, she reminds herself, her hand steady as she raises the blade. The clicker charges, its screech deafening. Alex sidesteps, the blade catching its neck in one swift motion. It crashes into the counter behind her. She followed through, driving the knife into its head, silently cringing at the squelch beneath her weight. Flinching slightly as blood spurts onto her face, hot and sticky. Just briefly, Alex freezes, Leah’s words ring through her head, told to her when she’d only been a fourteen-year-old girl after killing her first runner. “ These were once people, Alexandra. I’m not saying to hesitate—never hesitate, but do have compassion ,” Leah’s words ring through her head, told to her when she’d only been a fourteen-year-old girl, after killing her first runner.

When Alex finally looks up, Ellie is standing a few feet away, her expression unreadable but her eyes sharper than Alex has ever seen. There’s a glint of something—respect? Curiosity?—as she watches Alex wipe the blood from her face. Alex straightens slowly, her breath shaky as she steps away from the corpse. “You’ve done this before,” Ellie mutters, almost to herself, watching briefly as Alex cleans her knife before turning to search the room. “All this ruckus would’ve brought up anything else in the building—we should be safe but stay vigilant,” she announces into the room before stepping deliberately out the room, eyes taking in the almost identical room behind the broken wooden door separating them.

Alex pauses briefly, gathering herself before following Ellie into the other room, seeing her crouched beside a dusty chair, crumbled note in hand. The words, faded but legible, reveal the story of two people trapped in this very room—they’d run into spores along the way somehow, one of them, the man, not having his gas mask so the woman took hers off as well. They stayed together until the end. “Guess this place wasn’t so lucky for everyone,” Ellie says quietly after reading the tragedy aloud to Alex, the two of them making eye contact brief enough to mean nothing but long enough for Alex’s heart to skip a beat in her chest, before slipping the note in her bag without another word. She turns away from Alex who’d already begun rummaging through the cabinets nearest her, sliding open a drawer of the nightstand beside her when she pauses, listening intently.

“Hey,”  she whispers across the room sharply. “You hear that?” stepping towards Alex slowly. Alex froze, her pulse quickening as she caught the fainted sound—an unsettling gurgle followed by the unmistakable creak of movement. Her eyes darted toward Ellie, who had already shifted into a defensive stance, her pistol drawn and angled toward the source of the noise. 

“Yeah, I hear it,” Alex whispered back, her voice barely audible as her fingers grazed the butt of her knife, slowly pulling it from its sheath.

The sound grew louder—scraping guttural clicks reverberating through the small room. Ellie motioned silently toward the narrow door on the far side of the room, her green eyes locking with Alex’s in a silent command. Alex nodded slowly, her breath caught in her throat.

The floorboards groaned faintly beneath their cautious steps, both of them moving in tense, synchronized silence. Alex’s heart thundered in her chest as she kept her eyes on the shifting shadows in the room. Her mind screamed at her to stay calm, to focus, but every muscle in her body tensed with the knowledge of what lurked just out of sight.

A clicker emerged from the corner, its distorted form swaying unnervingly as it sniffed the air. The dim light from a broken window reflected off its grotesque features, its jagged claws dragging against the wall as it moved toward them.

Ellie’s pistol raised in an instant, but before she could fire, the clicker let out a screech that sent Alex’s blood running cold.

“Go!” Ellie hissed, shoving Alex toward the closet door.

Alex stumbled, her shoulder slamming into the doorframe as Ellie darted in behind her, pulling the door shut just as the clicker lunged. The sound of its body slamming against the wood reverberated through the small space, and Alex struggled to suppress a yelp as she was shoved backward into the narrow closet.

The space was suffocatingly tight, their bodies pressed together in the dark as they tried to stay silent. Alex could feel Ellie’s breath against her cheek, ragged and shallow as the clicker continued to claw at the door, its screeches echoing through the room.

Alex instinctively reached for her pistol, but Ellie grabbed her wrist, her grip firm and commanding. “Not yet,” she mouthed, her voice barely audible even this close.

Alex’s chest tightened, the combination of fear and their proximity making it hard to breathe. The clicker’s guttural snarls grew more frantic, its claws tearing at the wood as it searched for a way in. Alex’s mind raced, panic bubbling beneath the surface as memories of her first encounter with a runner threatened to overtake her.

Ellie shifted slightly, her movements calculated as she checked the security of the silencer attached to her pistol. Alex’s eyes followed the motion, her pulse pounding as she realized Ellie’s plan.

“You can’t—” Alex began to whisper, but Ellie shot her a sharp look, her expression leaving no room for argument.

Slowly, Ellie raised her pistol toward the door. The clicker slammed into the wood again, the force nearly splintering it, and Alex instinctively pressed her back against the wall, her breath caught in her throat.

Ellie waited, her aim steady despite the tight quarters and the oppressive tension that filled the air. The clicker screeched again, its claw punching through the wood, and Ellie fired.

The muffled shot cut through the chaos, the clicker letting out a final, guttural cry before collapsing outside the door.

For a moment, neither of them moved the air between them thick with the scent of sweat and fear. Alex could feel her heart racing, her chest heaving as she tried to process what had just happened.

Ellie let out a shaky breath, lowering her pistol as she turned to Alex, eyes quickly running over her form as if to check for injuries before locking onto her eyes. “You okay?”

Alex nodded, her voice caught in her throat.

“Good,” Ellie muttered, pushing the door open slightly to peer outside. The room was silent, save for the faint creak of the wind through the broken window. The clicker’s body lay motionless on the floor, and Ellie stepped out cautiously, her pistol still raised. Alex followed hesitantly, her grip on her knife tight as she scanned the room for any remaining threats.

“Let’s move,” Ellie said, her voice steady despite the adrenaline still coursing through her. Alex nodded again, falling into step behind her. She couldn’t shake the feeling of Ellie’s hand on her wrist, the command in her touch, or the way her sharp gaze seemed to see straight through her.

As they stepped back into the quiet streets, the rain was still a soft drizzle, pattering against their gear barely audible over their strained breaths. The adrenaline from the encounter still thrummed through Alex’s veins, but she forced herself to focus on Elie’s steady pace ahead of her.

“Are you always like this?” Alex finally broke the silence, her voice low but edged with something she couldn’t quite place—frustrations, awe, or fear.

Ellie glanced over her shoulder, her expression unreadable. “Like what?”

“Calm. In control,” Alex muttered, her hand tightening around the strap of her bow as she tore her eyes away from that gaze in front of her, the morning sunrise now reflecting prettily off her green eyes. “Like nothing scares you.”

Ellie stopped abruptly, turning to face Alex fully, her wet hair sticking to her cheek. Her green eyes locked onto Alex’s face, trying subtly to catch eye contact with her again, a palpable intensity that made Alex’s breath stutter.

“You think I’m not scared?” Ellie’s voice was quiet, but there was a weight to it that made Alex falter. “Every second, I’m terrified. Of losing Dina, of failing at all of this… of not finding her.”

Alex blinked, eyes flicking back to Ellie’s, the mention of “her” making her stomach twist, though Ellie doesn’t elaborate. She opened her mouth to say something, but Ellie had already turned back, her voice cutting through the damp air.

“Fear keeps you alive. You just have to learn to work with it.”

The rest of the walk was silent, the theater finally coming into view as the tension between them simmered, unspoken but ever-present. Alex glanced at Ellie one last time as they approached the door, her mind racing with thoughts she couldn't quite articulate.

And then Ellie opened the door, stepping inside without another word, leaving Alex in the rain, her chest heavy with questions she didn’t dare to ask.