Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sydney just liked to read books. It wasn’t like he spent all of his time in the library or buying new books, but whenever he had the free time, he liked to cuddle up on the couch and just read a book. Any genre, mostly, whatever he could get his hands on. Though, he could get his hands on a lot more when he was actually in a library. It was nice. Untouched by the outside world, what it held. If you just sat in here and read, hours on end, you would never know what was happening. He had been held up here for a couple weeks now, never really leaving until he had to, of course, he would have to, just not yet. He was enjoying it, but reality would kick in at some point. 

He had been living on the outskirts of Atlanta when everything had gone down, his uncle's house, and hadn’t even known that everyone was trying to leave until his uncle came bustling home from work three hours early and rambled about how they had to leave. His uncle had this huge bite mark covering his inner forearm, saying how someone at work had attacked him and his coworkers had to pull him off. So, he packed his bags (bag, actually) and they left. Of course, that was what everyone else had been trying to do.

They didn’t make it very far.

Jammed for miles and miles, one thing led to another and his uncle was snarling and growling— trying to eat his face off. He had screamed at him, pushed him off, struggling to no avail to get through to him. Begged him to stop. Nothing had worked, so he did the only thing he could, he ran. More like he fell out of the car, only with his bag on his back, and got the hell out of there.

Then, a long walk and four dead walkers later, he found the library. 

Now, he was here. In said library. 

Sydney was rudely awakened from his sleep by the sharp sounds of doors slamming, and voices. He shot up, blinking the sleep from his eyes and fumbling poorly in the back room, sitting up from his makeshift bed. The voices and noises increased, closer, and his brain finally seemed to understand that he was in trouble. He moved quickly, his brown curly hair sticking to his face from sweat, the only downside to the library. 

Picking up his bag, he slung it over his shoulder, struggling to grab his knife off of the floor. Fuck. Fuck. Walkers don’t talk. And walkers don't open doors, usually anyways. His sock feet on the floor, he crouched and leaned closer to the door, trying to hear what was going on the other side. Sydney could still hear the voices, men definitely, but he still couldn’t make out what they were saying- but he couldn’t stay here. His heart thumped in his chest as he twisted the doorknob, pushing it open slowly and looking through the crack. He couldn’t see much, books scattered on the floor that hadn’t previously been there, clearly something done by his new visitors. The back of three men could be made out, but there could be more, who knows.

Taking the chance to move out, he opened the door carefully and as quietly as he could, slipping out and shutting it behind him just as he did opening it. Sydney ducked behind a shelf, before he could give any of them a chance to turn around and spot him. He definitely hadn’t missed the guns and supplies they were sporting, something he lacked- and they didn’t look too friendly. He wasn’t stupid. All he wanted to do was get out of here, and far away from anybody else. 

What were they even doing in here? There wasn’t really anything to take, and they didn’t seem like the reading type. Just looking for a place to trash? He didn’t know. 

He didn’t care.

Moving along the floor, he kept behind the bookshelf, trying his best to keep himself quiet. Sydney knew this place like the back of his hand, having spent enough time in here alone to scour it over and over again. The front entrance seemed too risky, with the men lingering near it, and the push door wouldn’t be stealthy either- he could go out the back way. With one swift look back at the men, he picked up his pace a little and went for the back exit, which was just down a corridor and to the left.

No way was he sticking around. 

He pushed away his nerves and kept going, turning left and spotting the dull ‘exit’ sign, just what he needed. With a small glance behind him, he pushed open the door as quietly as it would go, stepping out into the sun. It blinded him for a moment, beating down over his body, and he turned his head slightly to avoid it.

And made direct eye contact with a man, just like the other ones that had been back inside.

Shit.

The even worse thing? He noticed Sydney two seconds early, and had his gun trained on him, the sound of the safety clicking off making his heart sink.

“Wait, wait, hold on a minute- Please, we-”

He didn’t even get to finish before the bullet blew through his chest and into his heart. 

A little boy with a mop of brown hair stumbled through a grocery store, his tiny little legs not taking him very far. He couldn’t have been more than five or six, having turned away from his mother the moment she had taken his eyes off of her. He tended to do that. He loved to play hide and go seek with his mother, or just wander off, finding it hilariously funny. His parents didn’t exactly think the same though. The boy practically knew where the toy aisle was, they were at their regular grocery store, and he always seemed to trick his mother into buying him a new toy every time they came here. Maybe that’s why she started taking him less, but he didn’t really know the difference.

Aisle seventeen. His green eyes shine as he looks over the shelves, for something that would eventually catch his eye, something he would want. 

There wasn’t much time though, because his mother, in all her glory, came swooping down the aisle with the cart, a look of relief washing over her face when she spotted him. Of course, she would know exactly where to find him. “What have I told you about doing that, Sydney? You had mama worried.” She frowned at him, picking him up in her arms, letting out a soft breath. His mother was only small, and she didn’t carry him as long as she used to- no matter how much he prodded her too.

“Sorry mama.”

His ears were ringing when he came too, his body aching and momentarily forgetting exactly where he was or what was going on. He grasped at his chest, clawing desperately for a moment, feeling the hole in his shirt where the bullet had gone straight through. Thankfully. 

Fuck. 

He glanced around quickly, which made his vision blur for a moment, but it didn’t take long for him to realize that his knife and his bag was missing. Of course, why wouldn’t they take it? Now, he was outside alone, with only the clothes on his back, even with no shoes. Sydney sat up finally, wondering how long he had been out this time- it couldn’t have been too long, the sun was still high in the sky but he didn’t know. No watch. No way to tell the time, just knew it was day when the sun was up and night when it went down.

Still in the place that he had been shot down, he struggled to stand up, stumbling to his feet and rubbing at his chest slightly. It didn’t seem that anyone was currently around, but he didn’t want to risk the chance- he had to get out of here, and out of here quickly. 

Not really sure of where he was going and still a little out of it, he started to walk, not really having a destination. Just walked.

Wasn’t really sure for how long exactly, but his feet ached, his no shoes problem becoming much larger as he went. His throat was dry and scratchy, thankful he actually had no one to talk to for once, surely it would hurt. Thankfully, there weren't many walkers around, he didn’t have much to defend himself with if he had stumbled upon one. A sharp stick, that he had found and used a rock to make the end pointy. Pathetic, really, but it was better than stumbling around completely vulnerable. 

All he could see was green, for miles and miles to come, that was all. When had the forest even started? When had he entered it? He didn’t really know, he only stopped when it became dark, but he barely slept. The dark scared him, almost as much as the walkers did, which was saying something.  

A branch snapped in the distance. 

He froze completely, body tensing up in its entirety as his ears strained to pick up any other sounds. Nothing. The male waited another couple of minutes as he scanned his surroundings, before he just decided to keep moving. There wasn’t anything he could do about it, if he didn’t see anything, his only option was to push forward. The day kept moving forward, as did he, the green trees the only thing for him to look at, wondering if the forest really did end. 

Several hours later, or something, the sun was beginning to set again, and he was still in the same position he had been the day before, and the day before that one.

Until another branch snapped. 

Sydney whipped around so fast that his vision blurred, but it worked out in the end because he caught sight of brown hair and a blue shirt. A small body was in said blue shirt.

“Hey! Who is that?” His voice cracked and burned when he spoke, and he swallowed the spit gathering in his mouth to try and sooth it. “I know someone is out there. Have you been following me?” No response.

“I won't hurt you, come out.” Surprisingly, that seemed to do the trick because a moment later there was the sound of rustling leaves and twigs, and a young girl stepped out behind a tree. She couldn’t have been any other than twelve or thirteen either, dressed in short pants and a blue t-shirt with a rainbow on it. She had medium short brown hair that was tucked back with a headband, and her face was a mess of dirt and grime- and she looked terrified. 

He swallowed again, “Are you okay? Where is your group?” Obviously she had to have one, no way she made it this far on her own, and especially without a weapon.

Ironic, he was the one saying that. 

For a few moments, all you could hear was his own quiet breathing and the sounds of nature in the forest. Until, “I’m Sophia.” The girl spoke softly, wringing her hands nervously as she watched him, eyes filled with fear and sadness. He had no clue how to deal with that, he was still struggling to keep his eyes open and of course he just had to stumble upon a little girl, possibly lost in the forest and separate from her group. Who had let her wander off anyways? He was already curious, and concerned, wondering if her group was even alive right now. 

He realized she was waiting for him to say something and he blinked hazily, squinting at her, “Name’s Sydney. Where is your group at? Are you lost?” His eyes darted around, looking for any possible threat, shoulders tense. 

“There was- was a bunch of those things, they showed up and we had to hide. They came after me so I ran off, Mr Grimes tried to help me but I got lost. I don’t know where they are.” Her bottom lip quivered, and he briefly wondered how many people she was with. Or where they went. He knew that he couldn’t just leave her out here, that would be cruel, he just couldn’t. Couldn’t let himself live if he just walked away, and left her.

Curse his conscience. 

“I can try and help, if you want. I could use the company.” His head was pounding and everything aches, but he was almost kind of numb to it now. Like it was something he was getting used to.

“Okay.”

He waited for her to move towards him, so she could join him in step as they walked, slowing down slightly so they could walk in sync. It was obvious that there was no plan on where they would go, but it would be better to be together then to be alone. Sydney observed her quietly, glancing at her every few minutes for no reason in particular, finally noticing that she had a doll clutched in her hands as well. How had he not noticed that before? It was a rag doll, with red hair that were pulled into braids, with a pink patterned dress stitched onto it. It was nice. “Where did you get the doll from?” He asked her, his voice was light, just loud enough so she could hear him, not wanting to attract any more attention that he had to.

Sophia seemed to pause at this question, and he noticed her hesitation, but before he could bring it up she answered. “It was my friend Eliza’s. She gave it to me when we left. We were at this camp and it got attacked, so we had to leave. She gave me it as a reminder.” She rambled, and he let her. 

“Yeah? Where did you? Go, that is.”

Clearly, she wasn’t really concerned that she hadn’t known him for that long, he wasn’t one to rain on her parade. Sydney was just glad that he was the one to stumble upon her, and not someone who was less caring, or a walker who could’ve found her.

“First we went to this place called the CDC and met this guy named Dr Jenner, and there was hot water and food and stuff. He talked about how he tried to study those things, and couldn’t find a cure. Then he put the building on self destruct mode and we had to convince him to let us out. It was really scary.” She paused to take a breath, never stopping, and Sydney just listened as the words poured from her mouth, “We had to leave someone behind. But then we were driving on a highway and our RV broke down, so we had to stop. That’s when a bunch of those things came out and I got lost. I don’t know how to get back.”

The CDC? Sophia’s group had been to the CDC?

“What happened to the CDC?” She had said self destruct mode, but he wasn’t really clear on what that meant.

She falters.

“It blew up.”

Ah. It seems like Dr Jenner had given up, and one of Sophia’s group members had chosen to stay behind. That’s what Sydney was taking from it anyways, his brain trying to absorb all this information. He had heard about the CDC, a couple weeks back, but hadn’t really thought anything of it. Well, now he knows. “Sorry that happened. It’s good you’re still here.” Was it really? He shakes away the thoughts as quick as they come, not ready for a mental crisis.

“Yeah. I just really miss my mom.” 

It felt like a punch to the gut, a rough one too, and he sucks in a breath. “I’m sure we can find your group, and your mom.” He doesn’t know if he believes it himself. 

“You really think?”

“Yep.”

It was mostly silent for the rest of the time they walked, taking turns here and there in hopes of finding the resemblances of something different. Eventually, when it was almost too dark to see, they walked out into a clearing. It was hard to tell exactly what they were seeing, but there was a house, in the middle of nowhere. It looked empty, from what he could tell, but then again, that would be the smart thing to do.

Sydney thought about walking right past it, but he could see Sophia in the dark shivering so he took in a small breath, “Come on, stay behind me.” He stepped towards the house, his feet pulsing as he moved. His socks were almost worn through by now, the lack of shoes really catching up to him, but there wasn’t really anything he could do about it. Except push through the pain.  He gripped the stick in his hand, felt the roughness dig into his palm as he moved towards the house, but ignored it.

Sophia followed behind him, and he walked up the steps, creaking under his weight and he let out a breath he didn’t know he was hiding. He pushed on the door. It opened. Clearly, no one alive was inside, or the door wouldn’t be opened. “Stay back, okay? I’ll check it out.” He whispered, pushing open the door and stepping inside. There was a long hallway ahead of him, but he couldn’t see the end of it, but he assumed it led to the kitchen. A staircase off to his right. A room, to his left. The only light was the bright moon shining in, and that didn’t really help much. He slapped his hand against the closest wall, hitting it a couple times and hard enough that it could be heard throughout the room.

“Wait! What are you doing?” The little girl sounded terrified the moment he started making noise, but he just shushed her. 

After another moment of silence, he gestured for her to come in, “If anything was here we would have heard them by now.” It was a simple tactic he had learned of off the bat, when he had realized that the dead were attracted to sound. It was simple things like that, that would someday save your life. 

“We’ll stay here for the night, okay? Then we can get a fresh start in the morning. Come on.” Sydney closed the door behind them once they were both in, lightly grabbing her arm so he could pull her into the supposed living room. 

The house was old and creaky, and the windows were boarded up, which made him simply wonder why the door had been unlocked. Whoever had been here was long gone. 

Dead or not, it didn’t matter.

He shuffled into the room and released her, scanning what he could of the room, before spotting a door off to the side. A closet? It was worth the check. “One second.” He moved towards it, rapping his knuckles on the wood, before opening it a second later. Dust flew as he opened it, just showing how neglected it was. Inside the closet, there were a couple small blankets tucked on one of the shelves, along with a small pillow. They were covered in dust he would guess, but it was better than being cold. “Here, take these.” He pulls out the pillow and blankets, blinking away the dust that floated into his eyes, handing them off to Sophia. 

Sydney felt along the shelves, to see if he could find anything else, seeing as he couldn’t see if there was anything else in the dark. His hands hit an object, and he grasped it, and he could tell it was a can. He pulled it out and felt the top, feeling the pull off, which he was thankful for seeing as he didn’t have anything to cut the can open with. The male squinted in the dark to see what it was, barely making out the word ‘tuna’, before he let out a soft sigh. It would have to do.

He turned back to Sophia, who had unfolded the blankets and set them up in a corner, moving like she was a walker herself. “Hey, I never asked, how long have you been lost?” He closed the closet door quietly, creeping over to where the other was.

“A couple days? I’m- I’m not really sure.” She probably hadn’t had anything to eat or drink either, from the looks of it, and he is not well equipped to take care of kids. Of any sorts. Finding her people was the best thing they could do, to give her a chance. At the least.

“We’ll find them.” Sydney tells her, holding out the can to her, “It’s not much, some sort of tuna, but it will help if you’re hungry.” She took it.

“Aren’t you hungry?” He could feel his stomach eating at himself, and he’s surprised his stomach didn’t growl like a bear right then and there, but it didn’t. Of course he was hungry, he was starving. But he wasn't selfish. Sydney wouldn’t let her go hungry. “No, I’m okay. I swear.” Reluctantly, she took it. Good. He waited for her to get settled before he followed, sitting down against the wall that she was also leaning against.  She had laid the blankets out on the floor, something to lay on, and was using the other two to actually use. She placed one over his legs, and he let his head fall back against the wall, his sharpened stick laying beside him.

Now that he was sitting down, his whole body just felt like jelly and all he wanted to do was melt into the floor. Everywhere on his body just positively burned, and his body was screaming at him to just stop, just stop for one minute. He was so past the point of being tired he didn’t even feel the need to sleep anymore, which was even worse, his body telling him to stop but he just couldn’t. Not now. 

Sydney was pulled from his thoughts when he heard the sound of metal on metal, his shoulders jumping as he turned his head to look at Sophia, who had her knees pulled up to her chest, and was pulling open the tuna can. He relaxed when he realized there wasn’t actually a threat, but watched as the girl pulled off the top enough to reveal the tuna, and as she sniffed it she made a face.

He couldn’t help the small chuckle that rumbled his chest, “Better than nothing, right?” Sophia just nodded in response, biting down on her lip. In the apocalypse, you couldn’t be picky with food. But he still hated onions, and if someone offered him onions right now he’s sure he would turn his nose up as well. It was instinct. He could see her struggling with how she was supposed to eat it, and he held off another small laugh, “Just use your fingers. I know it’s gross, but it’s all you’ve got.” Honestly, if someone had told him to eat with his fingers something like that, he would have internally gagged.

Those luxuries were in the past.

The next few moments were spent in silence once again, almost comfortable, as Sophia ate, and he rested his eyes. It was nice. Just be around another person, he had missed it. She was only a little girl but it made him feel a little saner, like he wasn’t going crazy. Being left alone with your thoughts is sometimes the worst thing you could possibly do for a person. Personally, he hated it, hated being alone, occasionally he would like his space, like to just be alone. Not often though, and he hates it even more now. Hates being stuck in his head, and no one to talk to. Of course, him and Sophia weren’t spilling their guts out to each other or anything, hell, he didn’t even know her, but it helped.

Eventually, after she had almost inhaled all of the tuna and was now rubbing her hands off on her pants to clean them, he spoke up, “You should get some sleep, okay? We can head out when it’s light.” His own eyes drooped at the thought of sleep, and he’s sure he could maybe catch some as well. “I’ll keep you safe. Nothing will get us in here.” Was it partly a lie? Maybe, but she didn’t need to know that. He didn’t debate on it too long because she didn’t argue with him, situating herself so she was curled up on the floor with the blanket around her, the floor was probably still cold and the blanket only helped a little, but it was better than nothing. Anything was better than nothing. 

Not a moment later, he could hear her breathing slow, and he couldn’t see her eyes but he knew that they were closed. She must have been exhausted. Sydney rubbed a hand over his face, scratching at the dirt that covered it, but not really helping it much. He probably looked like shit, his hair tangled in knots, stuck to his forehead from sweat, not to mention the dirt that just clung to his skin like it owned the place. He had been only dressed in a pair of sweats and a light grey shirt when he was chased out of the library, so that was what he was dressed in now. Not to mention the pair of white socks that were partly grey now, and torn.

Better than nothing. 

Sydney let out a sigh and shifted, so he could lay down, pulling the blanket over him, it didn’t cover him much but it helped. Slightly. He closed his eyes, hoping that sleep would come. A minute past. Two minutes. Three. Despite feeling as though he was at ease, he felt anything but, his chest was heavy with something he didn’t know. He opened his eyes, staring into the darkness, past the threshold of the living room opening until he couldn’t make out the shape of anything. Another breath.

He didn’t sleep at all. 

About a couple hours later, the sun actually started to rise, and he opened his eyes. No, not from sleep, he had been simply resting them for a moment. His back and legs ached from his position on the floor, and as he sat up his back gave a painful crack. Ouch. His shifting must have woken Sophia, because she let out a soft groan and started to move as well. Good, they should move soon anyways.

He pulled the blanket off his legs and set it aside, letting his body wake up more than anything, before he grabbed the sharpened stick and stood up, his body protesting with him as he did. Nothing to do about it. Sydney waited for Sophia to fully wake up as he leaned against the wall, feeling slightly lightheaded. “Are you ready to get moving?” He questioned, not really giving her a chance to really wake up, but he didn’t want to stay in this house any longer than they had to. There was nothing for them here.

“Mhm.” She rubbed at her eyes, picking up her stuffed doll from the ground, pulling herself up off the ground.

Sydney waited for her, before he started to walk towards the door, slowly pulling it open, squinting as the sunlight immediately hit him. Another hot day. That’s what it usually was like in Georgia, if that’s where they still were. He assumed so, he didn’t walk that far. 

He paused when he was out on the step, he couldn’t really see anything over the mountains of trees, nothing at all. No indicator of where they were at, nowhere he could see that could be something of usefulness. He didn’t even know which way would be the highway, or to where Sophia’s group would be. It was a shot in the dark, completely, to where they would end up. Just hoped they would get somewhere relatively safe soon or risk actually dying. Walkers or not. 

Another minute to look around, before he finally picked a direction to head in. 

“Let’s go this way, okay? It looks slightly different. The forest has to end at some point.”

The heat was beating down on his back as they walked, stick gripped roughly in his hand, as they moved quietly, but less swiftly than the day before. Sydney was even more tired than he had been yesterday, lack of sleep slowing him down, dehydration and lack of food. It was slowly killing him. 

What would happen if he died? Again?

What would Sophia do? Would she run and leave him, or stay by him? 

He shook away the thoughts, continuing to walk, his feet dragging on the ground. Sophia would look at him every so often, and it seemed as though she had something to say, but then she wouldn’t and they would keep going. His foot caught on a branch and stumbled, and he saw the ground coming faster and faster until he actually hit it.

A soft gasp from Sophia. 

Sydney groaned in pain, feeling a twig digging deep into his cheek as he attempted to catch his bearings again. He fumbled on the ground unknowingly, hand grasping for the stick that he couldn’t find anymore, struggling. A hand on his arm spooked him, and he blinked as the little girl tugged at his arm slightly, trying to help him up. He went with her willingly, the world spinning around him as he attempted to orientate himself. More difficult than it sounded. 

“There is a clearing up ahead, I think, Sydney.” The soft voice spoke, which he barely recognized as Sophia’s, and how they were moving. He just moved. Walked with her, as she held his arm.

Black dots grazed his vision, and he was unaware of how unsteady he actually was, or how Sophia was now leading them. Was that a house? A big house? He could see a big blob of white, and people? Were those people?

They were still moving, towards the people? What was Sophia doing? He was confused.

Sophia’s hand dropped.

“Sophia? Sophia? Is that-”

“Sophia!”

Who was calling for her? Had they found her people?

Sydney couldn’t think anymore, because the blackness took over his vision and the world tilted until he hit the ground.

Chapter Text

“There is a clearing up ahead, I think, Sydney.” That was the last thing Sophia had said to him before he hit the ground, she should have seen it coming as she held his arm for dear life, a farmhouse coming into view. Some would have been suspicious, wary even, but she was just a little kid, she just saw people and she gravitated towards them. She could make out a huge white house, a barn or two, and there were a bunch of tents set up.

And an RV?

It looked exactly like the one Dale had driven, almost the same one. Her hand dropped from Sydney’s arm. They were just out of the clearing of the forest, and they were moving at a slow speed, mostly Sydney was, she could tell he wasn’t feeling too well. He had just tripped over his own feet. Someone was sitting on top of the RV, and Sophia could barely make out blonde hair, her eyes moving to the next person, dark black hair, the next, a woman with long dark hair. There was more, but her eyes were processing them too slowly. Was that Mr Grimes?

Her name was being called but she wasn’t sure by who, because next to her Sydney swayed, and kept swaying, until he finally tipped and hit the ground. 

“Sydney!” The little girl exclaimed through the people yelling her name, dropping down next to him and shaking him slightly. What happened? Was he okay?

The people kept yelling, until they reached her, and she blinked through the sun, making out Mr Walsh, Mr Grimes, T-Dog and Glenn. She found them! Her mom was here. They were safe.

“Sophia? Sophia? Sophia, are you okay?” Mr Grimes was touching her shoulder lightly, a concerned look over his face, while the other three looked a little confused at the male who was now unconscious on the ground next to her.

“You got to help my friend! He helped me get here, Mr Grimes. He saved me. He helped me, please. I don’t think he’s okay.” Sophia begged him, a pleading look in her eyes, just wanting for Sydney to be okay. Friend? She had only known him a day, but she doesn’t think she would have made it here without him. 

Mr Grimes looked at her for another moment, before he quickly told Mr Walsh to help him with the man, and together they hauled him up. Glenn ran off to go warn Hershel (she didn’t know who that was), while T-Dog came over towards her. “You okay kid?” She can imagine she doesn't look too well, she hadn’t had a shower in days. Actually, she hadn’t had a shower since the CDC, which was probably longer than any of them. Dirt covered her clothes and her body, her hair was tangled, with sticks and leaves mixed in. “Where’s my mom at?” Was the first thing she asked, her voice small, as she peered from behind T-Dog, in search of her mother.

Why hadn’t she come to see what was going on?

“Come on. She’ll be so happy to see you. I bet Daryl will be pleased when he gets back to find out you’re here. He’s been out looking for you everyday so far.” Daryl? Mr Dixon? Honestly, it surprised her a little, that it had been him. He kind of scared her, the way he moved and the way he spoke. Like he was going to freak any moment. She didn’t like being yelled at, which was something her dad had done often. 

Sophia knew who Daryl was, he was the man with the crossbow and all the shirts with no sleeves, his brother had been Merle. She wasn’t exactly too sure what had happened with him, her mom wouldn’t really tell her, just that he ended up getting left behind. 

That’s one thing that sucked, when you’re young, the adults don’t tell you anything. It’s not like she didn’t understand what was going on around her, like she didn’t pick up on things, she just wasn’t as matured as the rest of them. She was only twelve, she could only handle so much. T-Dog was walking next to her, and she saw Glenn, Shane and Rick disappear into the farmhouse with Sydney, the male’s body slumped over and only being supported by the two men helping carry him.

As they continued to walk, she could see Dale and Andrea climbing off the top of the RV, as Mrs Grimes and her mom came around the corner. Her mom! “Mom!” She had never felt such relief, as she ran into her mother’s arms, feeling the tight embrace surround her, allowing the heat to soothe her. While Sydney tried desperately to assure that she would make it to her mom, she had doubted, for a second, if she would ever see her again. “I’m so happy you're safe, oh, my baby girl.” Her mother cried, squeezing her so tightly that Sophia could barely breathe.

“What’s going on? Who was that man?” Andrea questioned, skepticism clear in her voice, her head tilted towards the house. Mrs Grimes quickly disappeared from sight, probably off into the house, probably off to investigate and figure out what was going on.

Sophia never wanted to let go of her mother, ever again, she wanted to stay right here in this moment with her mother’s tight embrace around her. She knew she couldn’t do that though. She pulled away from the warmth of her mother, turning towards Andrea who was standing there with her hands on her hips, “His name is Sydney. He helped me, he kept me safe.” Without even knowing him that long, she already knew he had to be a good guy, that’s what her kid brain told her anyways. “Is he going to be okay?” The little girl looked up at her mother, worried.

Her mother smiled, “Of course he will, I’m sure he’s very strong. And Hershel, he’s a doctor, he’s going to help him.” Sophia, of course, didn’t know that was a bit of a stretch. 

“How about see if Maggie can hook her up with a shower?” T-Dog said, Sophia had completely forgotten he was there, but she practically beamed at the thought of a shower and nodded her head in agreement. 

White. Sydney was practically blinded when he finally was able to open his eyes, body aching and head pounding. At first, he thought he was in a hospital and momentarily he forgot all about the dead people and the little girl, but he quickly snapped back to reality. He was laying in a bed, but it was most definitely not a hospital bed. The room was painted white, and the paintings hung up along the wall reminded him of his grandmother's house. 

How long was he out? And where was he? 

He scratched at the back of his mind, digging deep, until he remembered Sophia and her group. Her group! He remembers people calling her name before he collapsed, so they must’ve found her group. What luck. 

To his right, was an IV stand, the needle attached to his arm and he winced at the thought of them putting it in. Does that mean they had a doctor? Honestly, he knew nothing about this group but they did have a little girl with them so how bad could they be? He grasped at the IV needle where it was taped over, and pulled it out with a wince, from the action and the fact that his head was pounding. 

Of course, Sydney finds it to be the best idea to try and get up, ignoring the exhaustion that haunts him to his bones and slowly sitting up. It looked like the afternoon out, so either he had only been asleep an hour or two or he had been asleep for at least a day. He’s wearing the same clothes, finding comfort in the fact that he had not been undressed but also feeling a little bad because the bed would certainly be dirty now. It’s not like he had any other clothes anyways, having been robbed of everything but the clothes on his back at the library. His socks were gone, and the bottoms of his feet appeared to be wrapped in some sort of gauze, not surprised seeing as how messed up his feet had gotten from walking through the woods with no shoes on. He slowly pushed himself up onto his feet, ignoring the stinging that screamed at him no, but as soon as all weight went onto his legs, his legs gave out and he crashed to the floor. 

Ouch. 

He groaned in pain, curling up a bit to try and console himself, wondering why he was such an idiot. The door clicked open, and he heard a soft gasp and hands on his body. “He’s awake!” A soft voice yelled, and he opened his once closed eyes to look at the girl who had walked in on him. She was pale, paler than him (that wasn’t hard, he was sunburnt from walking) and she had blonde hair with blue eyes that seemed to stare into his soul. She had to be only in high school, or she would have been still in high school at this time. 

More people entered the room, and to be expected he did not recognize any of them. One was another girl, that strangely looked like an older version of the girl on the floor with him, an old man and, “Rick Grimes?” He said in baffled confusion, looking at the former officer, who looked the same just more… dirty. 

Sydney didn’t personally know the man, nor did he think that the other would even know his name or even remember him from the world before. The last he had heard of him, was that he was in a coma after he had been shot, the police station had not been a very happy place after that. 

The two unnamed girls helped him up, clumsily, and helped him to sit on the edge of the bed. “You know me?” Rick had a look of confusion on his face, as he walked into the room a little more, scanning Sydney’s face as if he was trying to remember him from somewhere. “Don’t worry, you probably don’t know me. I, uh, used to work IT in the King County Police Department. I remember seeing you around. I didn’t know that-“ He trailed off, unsure of what to say. 

“I woke up.” Was the answer he got. 

Sydney was pulled from the conversation as the old man spoke up, “I’m Hershel Greene. This is my daughter Beth, and Patricia. The little girl you brought with you, Sophia, said your name was Sydney.” 

“Yeah, that’s me. Sydney Collins. I found her, or well, I guess she found me honestly. I was wandering around after I had been robbed, she was following me. She told me about the group, I didn’t think we would actually find you guys though.” Sydney ran a hand through his hair, almost regretting it as he felt the dirt and muck as he did. Gross. 

“Hershel and his family are letting us stay at the farm, we’ve been searching for Sophia since we showed up. One of our men, Daryl, came back not long after you. There was an accident.” An accident? There were a lot of things he felt he was missing, to be expected, and he felt that he was about to be thrown a lot more information that might make his head hurt even more. 

“Daryl got mistaken for a walker and got shot by one of our own, just grazed him though.” Rick continued awkwardly, “Thank you for bringing her back.” 

Shot by one of your own? That’s rough. 

“You were dehydrated and had a heat stroke, you’ve been out for about a day. You should be fine, just some cuts and bruises.” Hershel spoke, and Sydney could tell he was not very pleased that he had someone else to look after. He’s guessing that he’s not too pleased that the group is here after all. 

Drama, great, just the one thing that Sydney needs in the end of the world. 

“Beth can help you to the shower, and we can talk more after that.” The displeased man continued, before he promptly turned and left. Patricia and Rick followed him soon after. 

A very nice welcome party, cool. 

“Don’t mind my daddy, he’s just worried. And I don’t think he’s so used to so many people on his property.” The teenage girl laughed, as she held out her hand to him, “Please don’t fall again.” 

“I’ll try.” He answered, grasping her much smaller hand as she looped her arm around his back and helped him stand up. His legs felt like jello still, but he was much more ready this time to not fall on his face. 

They moved across the hard word floors, around the dirty bed, and into a plain white door which led into a bathroom. There was a stand up shower, just great from him, but thankfully there was a holding bar which would definitely come in handy. “The face cloths are under the sink and the towels are over there,” Beth pointed in the direction with her head as she helped him onto the toilet seat, “I’ll leave clothes on the bed for you. Jimmy is probably the same size as you, you’re both pretty scrawny.” Sydney nodded his head in thanks, grateful he didn’t have to continue wearing the same dirty clothing. 

“Please yell if you need anything.” The blonde haired girl said, heading towards the door. Just before she shut the door, she paused, as if to think if she was going to say something or not before she opened her mouth, “Thank you so much for finding that little girl. I don’t think Mr Dixon was ever going to stop until he found her.” And she was gone. 

Sydney thinks he should try and talk to this Daryl Dixon guy, he seems like a good guy. And he should try and find Sophia again, to make sure she’s alright. But first, a shower. God, when was the last time he had a shower? A proper one? Probably not since the beginning. He of course had used ponds and lakes, any body of water, to cleanse himself when he still had bars of soap, but a shower with real shampoo and body wash? The excitement was almost too much. Sydney looked down at his feet, remembering the bandages that were wrapped around them. Slowly, he unwrapped them and threw them into a nearby trash can. His feet were not bleeding anymore, so he did not see much use for them. He then slowly stood up, having finally regained his balance, and pulled off his ragged shirt over his head and onto the ground. Walking over towards the mirror, his fingers curled around the edge of the sink and he stared at himself. He looked like shit. Sweaty, full of dirt, bags under his eyes. But then again, who doesn't look awful nowadays? His body had black and blue shading over it, but he could still make out the scar stretching across his abdomen, and the new one, right where the bullet had pierced through his chest. If anybody looked closely enough at him, they would see the scars on his wrists or the dots on his arm, but no one did. And he was glad, they were just constant reminders for him that held him back from moving on. He squeezed his eyes shut, a lump in his throat, before he let out a steady breath and opened them again. Carefully he discarded the rest of his clothing, and grabbed a face cloth from where Beth had said and made his way over to the shower. 

He almost didn’t believe that it would be true, but he jumped in shock as the cold water hit his chest and he let out a laugh. It was true. He didn’t even care that it was cold, as he fiddled with the taps until it slowly seeped into hot water. He let the water rain over him, drenching him, watching the dirt and blood swirl around with the water and down the drain. He picked up the nearest shampoo, not even caring that the scent was strawberry as he scrubbed it into his hair hard enough that it almost hurt. 

If his cheeks felt warm not from the water but the tears streaming down his face, that was nobody’s concern but his own. 

Freshly washed for the first time in months, he exited the bathroom into the room he had woken up in and just like Beth said, a fresh pair of clothes were set out for him. Compared to the people Sydney had met in the past, these people were like a golden treasure. He pulled on the clothes that consisted of a pair of black sweatpants, a pair of boxers (listen, it’s the apocalypse, sharing underwear is the least of his concerns), a plain grey t-shirt and a pair of socks. They were almost a perfect fit, maybe a little too big but that was perfectly okay for him. Alongside them was a pair of sneakers, black, and he checked the size and with some sort of miracle they were his size. God bless whoever this Jimmy guy is. He pulls them on carefully, wincing at the feeling of the shoe against his bruised and cut feet but he does his best to ignore it. There, all done, mostly. His hair was still a little wet, but he didn’t mind that one bit. 

Eventually, he decided to leave the room, still being careful about his steps in hoping he would not collapse again. His stomach groaned in protest, his lack of food having been finally remembered, and he briefly wondered if they were going to feed him. He moved into a hallway, looking around briefly, and he could hear voices a couple rooms over so he decided to follow them. 

“We don’t even know who he is! He could be dangerous-“ 

“Lori, this kid brought back Carol’s daughter for Christ’s sake, you’re really trying to get me to throw him out?” 

“Just settle down, you don’t even know him-“ 

He didn’t blame them, of course, he was a stranger. That didn’t mean he wanted to leave though. 

Sydney turned a corner into a huge kitchen, where multiple people were talking to each other in multiple conversations. Patricia was doing the dishes with a short haired brunette, while Hershel was leaning against one of the doorways for support, Rick and this other girl (Lori he assumed) having a conversation that abruptly stopped when he walked in. “Uh, hey.” Fuck, why was he so awkward. 

“Hey. This is my wife, Lori. We were just talking about you.” Rick stayed, as if it wasn’t obvious. 

“Yeah, I know. Is Sophia okay? I haven’t seen her yet, and I just wanted to make sure.” Sydney felt some sort of attachment to the girl, to protect her, and he knew she had a family here but that didn’t matter to him. He just wanted to make sure she was safe. 

“She’s fine, much better now that she’s here I think. We can’t thank you enough for bringing her back,” Rick pointedly looked at Lori, “And Hershel and I agreed that if you need to you can stay with us for a bit. We noticed you didn’t have anything on you when we found you, I assume you don’t have another group?” 

Rick had this aura that screamed ‘leader’ which shouldn’t be a surprise to him, he had basically run the place back in Atlanta and everyone listened to him. He was just the leadership kind of guy. 

“Oh, yeah. I don’t have anybody. I’ve been on my own the whole time. Do you all live here?” He looked around the kitchen, just from the parts he had seen the place did seem pretty big. And from what he remembers from the outside, the place is like some sort of farm. Must be a good place to be in an apocalypse. 

“Rick’s group hasn’t been here that long, they live outside for the time being. They came upon me after Rick’s son was accidentally shot.” That seemed to be a recurring theme around here, apparently. Sydney looked at Hershel, who had just spoken, and then back to Rick and Lori. He didn’t really know what to say, honestly, despite being almost 30, he was still as awkward as he was in high school. 

Everyone else in the room caught onto that pretty quickly. 

Rick cleared his throat, “We have an extra tent you can use, T-Dog is setting it up now. It’s not the best situation, but it’s better than nothing.” Sydney was just grateful to have somewhere to sleep. 

Apparently at this time, his stomach decided it would be a great time to make the loudest groan it could and he internally cursed himself. Hershel looked towards Patricia and the other girl who was just finishing up the dishes, “Maggie, could you please make Sydney something to eat?” If Sydney has to guess, he’d say that Maggie is also Hershel’s daughter and was a part of his family. 

God, this is going to be a lot to figure out. 

Everyone continued to move on, Lori and Rick eventually filing out along with Hershel off to do god knows what. He didn’t care because all he could think about was that sandwich that Maggie was making him. 

“Don’t eat too fast, or you’ll make yourself sick.” Patricia told him kindly as Maggie set the plate down in front of him, a tall glass of water to go with it. “Thank you so much.” Is all Sydney said back. He didn’t really have the words to express how thankful he was for these people, because he’s not sure how long he would’ve lasted on his own. Sydney has never starved to death before, or anything, and he’s not really sure how it works. What happens when he comes back? Does he just suffer internally? Or does his body reset? He has no idea, and he really does not want to find out anytime soon. He realizes he’s just been staring at the sandwich, and the other two girls probably think he’s weird, so he quickly scoops it up and takes a bite. Soft bread. 

This place is heaven. 

He is halfway through the sandwich when Beth walks in, and she practically beams at the sight of him. Not sure when he became so special, but he’ll take it. “Hey, you made it! Didn’t fall in the shower, did ya?” The teenage girl had an almost southern accent, and it was almost hard to miss it. She seemed sweet, too young to be living in a world like this. Just like Sophia. Robbed of their childhood and what was left. 

“Nope, I made it. Safe and sound. Thanks for the clothes by the way, perfect fit.” He smiled at her, glancing down at the clothes he was wearing. “Hope they won’t be missed too much.” Sydney added on. 

Beth scoffed at the idea, “Don’t worry. Jimmy has enough clothes for all of us if we needed them.” 

Sydney still had no idea who Jimmy was, definitely a part of Hershel’s group. 

So far, this is what he has figured out: 

Rick’s group so far consists of Rick himself, his wife Lori, Sophia and her mom (he assumed) and Daryl (?).

Hershel’s group (family?) consisted of Patricia, Beth, Maggie and Jimmy. 

He knew that there were definitely people missing and that couldn’t be all of them, but he’d be sure to mentally update the list whenever he next figured out the information. 

“Beth?” Sydney has finished his sandwich and got the girls attention, “You think you could show me where Daryl is? I kind of want to meet him after hearing about how much he tried to find Sophia.” 

“Oh sure, Mr Dixon is in one of the spare rooms until we can move him back to his own tent. I’ll show you.” Beth had handed his plate off to Patricia as he drank the rest of his water, and he gave a head nod to both girls in another thanks. They set off through the house again, and he couldn’t help but try and take everything in at once. It looked like a movie set, straight out of a farmhouse movie. The place was beautiful, that was sure, decorated from top to bottom and family pictures hanging everyone and propped up on side tables and such. Sydney recognizes the ones he had already met, but there were of course people in some of the photos that he did not know, and he assumed that one of them would be Beth’s mom. One could assume what had happened to her.

 The same thing that had happened to everybody. 

They stop in front of one of the many identical white doors, and Beth lightly knocks before opening the door and she gives him one last smile before she disappears. Great. Sydney walks into the room, slightly closing the door behind him but not all the way. 

Inside is a brown haired shirtless man, covered in grime and dust. His head is wrapped in a white bandage, a darkish colour slowly seeping through them, with another patch placed on his side. There’s some dried blood still clear on his neck, along with his chest and abdomen. He looks like he’s seen some shit. He’s also kind of attractive, in a dirty way. Don’t judge him, because you know he’s right. 

“You’re Daryl, right?” Sydney obviously knows the answer to this, but he asks anyway. 

The guy is staring at him, an irritated look on his face, “Yeah, who's asking?” Daryl asks gruffly. 

Wow. Not exactly what Sydney had expected to hear from this guy, but he should have guessed. “I’m Sydney Collins. I’m the one who brought Sophia back. Or well, she brought me here.” He smiled awkwardly. 

Clearly, it wasn’t very funny to Daryl. “Yeah, meaning I almost got myself killed for nothing.” He grumbled in response, propping himself up slightly on the bed as he said such. 

Well, this is definitely not what he expected. The guy seemed rude and irritable, but that could be because he was shot accidentally by someone from his own group. Wonder how that happened? He’d have to eventually ask someone, and hope to get a clear answer. “Anyways,” he cleared his throat, “I just wanted to say you’re pretty brave for looking for Sophia like that, and not giving up. I’m glad you’re okay.” This is the worst conversation he’s ever had with someone. 

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” Daryl is scowling now, but that might actually just be his resting face. 

He’s clearly not getting anywhere, so he quickly says goodbye and leaves, letting out a deep sigh once the door is shut.

This should be fun. 

Chapter Text

It was a little while later, when Daryl had been moved back into his tent and Sydney had acquired his own. He thought it was weird that Daryl’s tent seemed to be farther away from the others, but he didn’t want to ask anybody about it in case he was stepping on some toes. His own tent wasn’t excluded that much, maybe he wasn’t in the ‘inner circle’ if you could call it that, but he wasn’t blatantly being pushed away from others. Sydney had to assume it was Daryl who had decided to set his tent up there. 

Someone should have given him a heads up the guy was an asshole. Would have saved him the trouble of making a fool of himself. 

Sydney hasn’t gathered that much information, but it was enough for him to try and get a good idea of what was going on here. It seemed that there were two groups, Rick’s and Hershel’s, which would explain why the majority of the people were sleeping in tents on the land. He didn’t know why, or how long they had been staying here but he doubts it’s been for long. He thinks briefly it was mentioned of a boy being shot, Rick’s son? That sounds about right. He has no idea where he stands, but seeing as he saved Sophia (she saved him) that probably makes him a part of Rick’s group. God, he’d have to try and get this whole thing figured out. He had no idea what to do at this point, he literally had nothing but the clothes on his back. 

Oh, well, he had shoes now thanks to Beth and that Jimmy guy. His feet were still killing him, but it was the least of his worries. 

The brunette was currently resting in his tent, the flap open as he rested on the dark blue sleeping bag that had been given to him. Honestly, he hated the thought of camping, but right now, the thought of actually having a place to sleep where there was much less of a chance of him being ambushed? He’s never loved it more. Sydney has seen terrible things and even more terrible people, who have done things not only to him but others (he thinks back to the guy who shot him), and he doesn’t think the people here are like that. 

“-ney! Sydney-“ 

His whole body jerked forward on instinct, reaching for a knife that was no longer there and coming back to reality as he was shaken from his thoughts abruptly. Instead of some monster lurking outside or a person pointing a gun on him, it was Sophia. How long had she been standing there for? He really had to stop getting lost in his own thoughts, especially in the apocalypse. “Hey Sophia. What’s up?” He smiled, climbing out of the tent alongside her and stretching slightly to work out the kinks in his back. 

“I thought I could introduce you to everybody! I mean, in our group at least.” Sophia seemed so untouched by the outside world, despite the things that she had already suffered through, and Sydney doesn’t mind it one bit. “I know you already met Mr and Mrs Grimes, they’re really nice!” Sydney wasn’t so sure if he could agree with that. 

“I met Daryl as well.” He tried to keep the bitterness out of his tone, because it wasn’t something a little girl like herself had to worry about anyways. 

Of course, Sydney is forced to hold conversation with multiple people as Sophia drags him around the camp to introduce him to everybody and he knows that he is powerless to say anything to her. He meets the son of Rick, Carl, who must have been the one that was shot but he seemed to be doing fine. Maybe a bit of a brat, but that’s to be expected from a kid who had to live in this kind of world. There was Carol, Sophia’s mom, who was weirdly kind to him but that could have been just because he wasn’t that used to kindness.  He brushed off the weird feeling, knowing he was probably just being paranoid. There was T-Dog and Dale, who he both met at once and were happy to stop and chat for a bit despite Sydney drowning in trying to actually find something to chat about. They didn’t seem to mind. The blonde, Andrea, didn’t seem to care for him too much but he didn’t mind that either. Just as they were nearing a bald headed guy, Sophia was being called away by her mother and she said goodbye before she scurried off to do god knows what. 

Great. 

Sydney was already too close to not say anything, but just as he opened his mouth, the man looked up from his spot leaning against a tree and Sydney stopped in shock. It was Shane Walsh. From the station. Except at first glance he barely even recognized him, looking a lot tougher in the face and the extreme lack of hair. What a shame. Crossed Sydney’s mind at once, because honestly, he looked a lot better with it than without it. 

Before Shane thought he was mute, he spoke up, “Sydney Collins. You’re Shane, you probably don’t remember me but I worked at the station where you and Rick were.” 

There was no mistaking as Shane looked him up and down, “You worked at the station?” 

Sydney almost found himself offended, that Shane thought him not capable of being a cop, but honestly he himself would find it far fetched as well. He looked more like a pizza delivery boy, and a scrawny one at that. He was your average height of 5’9, but he was cursed with long legs that he never really grew into and he was barely 150 pounds soaking wet. He was well aware of his stature, but that didn’t get him down. “I worked IT. You probably don’t remember me. I used to drop papers off a lot.” Sydney explained, mostly hoping Shane would remember him to at least give him some credibility around here. 

Shane snorted, “Yeah that makes more sense.” 

Sydney narrowed his eyes at him briefly, suddenly very aware of the hot afternoon sun beating down on his skin, causing sweat beads to form on his forehead. Sometimes he can’t believe how pale he used to be, but in this world it’s kind of impossible to be pale, especially if you spend hours and hours of your day outside. “Okay, well, see ya’ around?” It came out as more of a question, and he internally cringed at himself before he finally seemed to force himself to step away. He is literally a walking disaster. 

He steers himself away from Shane, pushing a hand through his hair, and Christ did he ever need a haircut. It wasn’t even as bad as it could be, his curly hair just slightly grown from before everything had started. Eventually, it would start to curl around his ears and over his eyes, and he’d have to hope that someone had some spare scissors around. In this heat and in this world, long hair was not something he needed, he really didn’t know how girls did it. 

Looking around the camp, taking in the sight of the setup that this group had taken up. The farm was huge, he couldn’t deny that, and honestly he would give anything to have been here when everything started. It was miles from anything, anyone. What are the chances that someone would stumble on this? Well, he was with Sophia, but they were looking for it, so it doesn’t count. Sydney shook his head slightly with a small sigh as he glanced around, taking in the people that he had already met before, before finally landing on a guy who was probably around his age who was talking to the brunette- Maggie- who was Hershel’s daughter. Weird. He inches closer to them, prepared to introduce himself to the unnamed man and even catching the tail end of their conversation. 

“When can we leave? I have a list of stuff-“ The dark haired guy says to Maggie, holding up a crumpled piece of paper. 

“Let me get the horses.” She responds and hold on, did she just say horses? 

Deciding this would be the best time to interject he stops short in front of them, “Hey, I’m Sydney.” He’s saying it more to the unnamed guy, because Maggie has already met him, well she made him a sandwich and that’s good enough. “Are you guys talking about going into town? I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, it’s just that I kind of have nothing but the clothes I’m wearing.” He stated.

“I’m Glenn, and this is Maggie.” He didn’t know that Sydney already knew that, and he wasn’t about to correct him. “Any reason you’re wandering around with nothing?” Glenn laughs awkwardly, fixing the baseball cap that’s resting on his head. 

What, did this guy think that he was willingly walking around with no weapons or supplies? “I was robbed.” He replied back, almost wincing as he remembered what had truly gone down. Immortal did not mean he was immune to the pain that he felt, because he felt it all up until the moment his heart stopped beating. He felt the bullet pierce his chest, an exploding pain he would never wish upon anybody, and he felt it pierce the thin veil of his heart before everything eventually went dark. All Sydney could hope for was a quick death, if he was going to die. He’s had worse than a gunshot to the heart. 

Glenn doesn’t seem to know what to say now, looking at Maggie, who briefly rests a hand on his upper arm before speaking, “You can come with us.” 

This is not what he had expected. 

Like, he knew that Maggie had mentioned horses but he guessed that it didn’t truly kick in until he actually had to get on the horse with Maggie. Glenn had his own horse, but honestly, he would much rather prefer to let Maggie steer them in the right direction as his fingers dig into the saddle beneath him. He much preferred cars, but he’ll take what he can get. 

As they ride into town, he can’t help but notice how much of a ghost town it is. There are some dead bodies laying around, decayed and old, but other than that it’s quiet. Too quiet. Maggie mentioned they had been in here multiple times and never had much trouble, so it must mean that the dead and people had just not come across it just yet. There were general stores, a restaurant, cafe, pharmacy, and a couple other places he didn’t recognize but that was fine by him. 

They stop short outside the pharmacy, and Maggie hops off before carefully helping him down (which he was grateful for) as the two tie off the horses so they won’t wander off. 

He stares off at one of the stores across the street, “I’ll go check out over there. Maybe I can find some stuff.” Sydney explains to them. 

The two of them exchange a brief look, and he tries to pretend that he isn’t some stranger to them that they only met today. The only thing he’s got going for him is he brought Sophia back, which is probably why he’s being tolerated in the first place. And he’s not given them any reason not to trust him. 

“Yeah, okay. Just be careful.” It wasn’t until now that Sydney realized the southern accent that Maggie had, not that it was of concern. 

Sydney gave a quick thumbs up, before he turned on his heel and moved towards the general store, hearing the two behind him heading into the pharmacy. He sighed to himself, rubbing a hand over his face and pushing his hair back out of his face. No matter how long he lived here, he could never get over the heat. What people thought was a regular warm day, he thought he was going to melt. Living in an Atlantic province for much of your life would do that to you, where it was mostly ten months of winter and two months of summer. His heart aches as he thinks of his hometown, where he had left behind his parents and basically never looked back. Well, that wasn’t true, he did come home for Christmas when he could afford to. But how long had it been since he saw his parents? Years, it would’ve been. He talked to them, of course, but he never made it back home in such a long time. It was far, and expensive. Now he wished that he would’ve gone back more. 

He pushes open the general store door, wincing as he hears the soft ring of the bell above the door. Dust covered his hand as he moved the door, probably going months without being opened, and the inside of the store wasn’t much better. After months with not being cleaned and left to rot, dust has settled over the shelves, things knocked on the floor and many empty spots where things had been taken off the shelves and not restocked. Sydney pauses long enough in the doorway, to make sure that nothing has been disturbed when the bell rang.

Silence. 

He’s used to being on his own, he basically has been since all this started, so he knows how to take care of himself. He creeps along the first aisle, very aware of his own breathing as his eyes scan the shelves. Most of the stuff is useless crap, things that would not have been seen as useless months ago, but are just a distant past now. On the back wall there is an array of backpacks, ranging from hiking bags to school bags for little girls and boys, covered with a thin layer of dust. Sydney lets his eyes fall over all of the bags, before he grabs a light grey backpack off the shelf that clips along the chest and the lower abdomen, which could be helpful in the future. 

Sydney isn’t sure how long he’ll be with this group. 

He moves along the store briskly, shoving things into the bag that might come in handy and that includes him picking up some clothes that he was currently lacking. There was no time to play dress up, to figure out what he might like and not like, so he grabs some pants that seem to be his size, along with a couple pairs of pants, underwear and socks. There isn’t much for medical supplies, seeing as there is a pharmacy across the street, but he does stuff some bandaids and bandages into his bag. 

Once Sydney feels like he has all he needs, he pulls the bag onto his shoulders, clipping both the buckles on his body before he tightens the steals. Good enough.

He turns to leave, but something catches his eye on the other side of the store. That would be useful. 

Sydney comes upon the wall, where there were axes, hatchets, machetes and etc hung up. That’s America for you. 

Staring for a while, he reaches up and grasps the package of a hand held hatchet, pulling it off the hook. Pulling at the plastic cover, he looks around for something to cut open the packaging. He wanders back to the front desk, fiddling around with the junk before he produces a pocket knife, and cutting open the thick package. He safely closes the knife and shoves it in his pocket (get it, pocket knife?) and stares at the hatchet in his hands. Yeah, this would work. He thinks to himself. 

Not a second later he hears a vague shuffling, and then there’s hands on his shoulders and they’re pulling . He drops the hatchet in surprise, it banging off the floor and luckily missing his foot by an inch as he comes face to face with the corpse in front of him. It’s an older lady, from what he can still recognize from her. Most of her teeth are missing and her face is decaying rapidly, but that doesn’t stop her from snarling and growling and digging her claws into his shirt and please god hope they don’t pierce him. He scrambles in fear, trying to get out of her grasp as she is trapped on the other side of the counter, pressing her rotten body against the counter as she tries to get her teeth in him. Her torso is caving in, just by her pushing herself against the counter. He wants to vomit. Fumbling, he pulls the pocket knife out of his pocket and opens it, stabbing it furiously into the ladies cheek in a panic. 

And oh, of course she’s not dead! 

Sydney looks at the ground, where the hatchet lays, desperately reaching with his finger tips to even graze the edge of the handle. Her teeth are snapping near his ear, and it smells like death, a smell he’ll never be able to get out of his mind. Ever. 

He feels the edge of the weapon, and curls his fingers around the bottom of it, pulling it up and back with all his strength and burying it straight in between the things eyes. Sydney falls backwards as the hands on his shoulders release him, landing on his back (well, backpack) and breathing rapidly while trying to catch his breath. 

Holy fuck. 

Maybe he lays there for much longer than needed, but that’s his business as he tries to make his heart stop beating so goddamn fast. Finally, he pushes himself up, looking at the lady who has fallen, finally dead, across the counter, both his newly found weapons stuck to her. Sydney winces, pulling the knife from her cheek and wiping the blood off on his pants, before retracting the blade and placing it back in his pocket. 

The hatchet isn’t as easy to retract, as he yanks on it with both hands, pulling as hard as he can to try and retract the thing from inside the older woman's skull. Honestly, he would have gone flying back if he hadn’t caught himself last second when the thing finally let loose, and he did not realize how hard it would be to use such a thing. He needs practice. 

He grabs a cloth that was lying to the side, wiping down the weapon before he tucks it into the side of his bag, tightened in place by a strap. 

Sydney glances around the store and he realizes that he is really glad to be leaving right now, practically almost running out the door and back to the horses. Too close of a call. 

Not even a second layer, Maggie and Glenn come storming out- well actually, it was more like Maggie storming out and Glenn chasing after her. Maggie looks petrified and Glenn is looking kind of sorry for himself. They don’t say anything, and Sydney takes that as his cue to just shut up and get on the horse as to not rock the boat. The horse? 

Who cares. 

Sydney doesn’t have much else to do but follow after Glenn and Maggie, once they’re off the horses, but it turns out it might not have been the best idea because Maggie looks awfully pissed with Glenn trying to stop her from whatever she’s about to do. He stands off to the side, gripping the straps of his bag as Maggie rolls up on Lori, Rick’s wife if he remembers correctly, who is folding clothes near her tent. 

“Maggie, please, stop-“ Glenn pleads with her, but nothing seems to be stopping her from the mission that she’s set out on. Lori tries to get them some privacy, for god knows what, but once again the brunette farm girl is having none of it. 

He feels like he’s watching the latest soap opera. 

“Why? Nothing to hide. We got your special delivery right here!” Maggie starts to pull things out of the bag, throwing them on the ground at Lori’s feet, “We got your lotion, got your conditioner, your soap opera digest!” Is this what people thought was essential? 

“Maggie-“ 

“Next time you want something, get it your damn self.” Maggie practically hisses at her, and if Sydney was facing her he could probably see the fury on her face. He’s kind of glad he’s not facing her. “We’re not your damn errand boys.” 

Lori says something he can’t quite hear but he doesn’t think it was of much importance, as the older woman picks up the things off the ground that Maggie has thrown down. There’s one last thing that hits the ground and Sydney can’t help but just stare at the little box on the ground. Holy shit. 

“And here’s your abortion pills.” Maggie spits, before she turns on her heel and storms off, pushing past Glenn, but he soon follows after her. And that leaves Sydney. Lori stares off in the distance where the two had left, before her gaze shifts and she locks eyes with Sydney and she pretty soon realizes that he had heard the whole thing. She probably hadn’t noticed him at first, too busy with being told off by Maggie, but now she had. He stares at her. 

“It’s none of my business!” Sydney raises his hands slightly in defence, before he quickly evacuated the scene as fast as he could. 

He really had just walked himself right into a soap opera, hadn’t he? 

A little while later, he’s deposited his bag into his tent, and he’s moved himself a little farther from camp, holding his hatched tightly in his hand. Honestly, what’s the point in having it if he doesn’t know how to use it? Or if it constantly got stuck in the thing he put it in? 

So, that’s why, here he was, standing in front of a tree, hatchet in hand. 

Sydney pulls his hand bag, and buries it in the tree, coming straight down on it. Christ, it kind of hurts his arm to do it but he’s sure he’d eventually get used to it. He tugs harshly on it, trying to keep his balance while doing so before it finally lets loose and comes out of the tree. Sydney stumbles slightly but catches himself again, and then he does it again. And again. And again, again, again and again until he forgets how long he’s been doing it. He goes straight down the middle, he goes from the side, both sides, but he kind of wishes he had some actual walkers to try it on. 

(He really didn’t know he’d get to very soon.) 

He goes to pull the hatchet back again, but as he does he here’s a brief,  “Sydney?” behind him, enough to catch him off guard and he falls back and lands on his back, knocking the wind out of him. The weapon lands beside him, and he tries to catch his breath, his arm feeling the relief of having stopped the swinging. A little girl's face appears above him, the red hair the first thing he notices, before focusing on the face above him. “Sophia?” He says, wondering why she’s this far from camp. Well, far for a kid anyways. 

Sophia doesn’t say anything at first, instead choosing to lay down beside him, on her back, turning her head to look at him. “Do you like it here?” She says nervously. 

Sydney thinks about what he’s going to say first, knowing he’s talking to a kid, “I do. They seem nice. I have you to thank for that, we really wouldn’t be here without you. And I don’t think I’d still be here if it wasn’t for you.” He wasn’t lying to make her feel better, he just wanted to know that she was the actual hero of this story. “Are you sure you should get this far from camp?” Sydney really doesn’t want to be even less liked because people think he’s going to start kidnapping kids. 

“Oh, it’s fine! My mom is busy talking to Mrs Grimes, she barely even notices when I’m gone.” Sophia beams, and Sydney has to hold back a grimace, “And plus, I’m twelve. Not some kid.” 

Sydney kind of wants to cry, and he has to blink away the warmth that swims in his eyes, as he stares at the kid in front of him. So innocent and sweet, and at that moment he decided that he really did not want to leave this group, for her. He would do anything to make sure that she would make it, make it through all this. He doesn’t know why, he can’t even explain it, and he wouldn’t try to- he would just follow his gut. “Of course you’re not a kid. You’re a hero!” He smiles briefly at her, turning his head up towards the sky, where the sun is just starting to set, and he feels the cold air begin to set over them, and he’s grateful for it. 

Maybe everything would be okay. 

Chapter Text

Sydney had to admit that this group had a pretty nice set up, and he is not complaining at all. He slept almost completely through the night, which is something that didn’t happen often, but once again he wasn’t complaining. He didn’t even dream. It’s not that he felt safe, he never felt one hundred percent safe, but it was better than back at the library and he had a feeling this group isn’t going to straight up rob him or kill him after saving his life. He rubs at his eyes, blinking rapidly to get rid of the sleep as he steps out of his tent, stretching his arms above his head briefly. His long legs don’t appreciate the tent as much as he does, but that was equally as fine. He pats at his hair, trying to stop it from sticking up as much, slightly failing, before he eventually gives up and walks towards what he will now refer to as ‘base camp.’ Carol, Sophia’s mother, appeared to be making breakfast and his mouth watered at the sight of actual cooked eggs. He hasn’t had cooked food since it all began, these people were really living the life. As much as you could be anyways. 

He takes a spot on the ground, being one of the first few to actually arrive, along with Andrea (she was sharpening her knife) and Shane, who was kind of just observing Andrea (and him, now that he took a seat). Carol looked up and gave him a stiff smile, before returning to her job, so he had nothing to do but kind of just stare at the ground. 

A few minutes later, someone drops down beside him and of course, it was Sophia. “Hey.” He says to her, breaking the thin veil of silence that had been hovering over the camp. “Sleep well?” He hopes now that she was back with her mother, her group, she was sleeping much better and felt much better. 

“Yep.” She responds, popping the ‘p’ as she did, smiling at him. She looked so innocent. It was nice, talking to someone who wasn’t worrying about the same things that you were worrying about. And she was kind of his only friend here, so he wasn’t going to take that for granted. The two of them engage in a brief conversation, Sophia rambling about anything she could think about really, and she actually tells him a little bit about everyone in the group. Bless the lord for this kid. 

She explains about Rick and Lori (Mr and Mrs Grimes) and about their old group, where Rick had shown up after camp had been set up in the mountains, and no one thought he would be coming back. Hell, Sydney didn’t think he would either, seeing as last time he heard the guy was in a coma. Carl is their kid, which he figured out on his own, and he’s around the same age as Sophia and they met the day that everyone was trying to get out of the city. “Mr Walsh was there too, on the highway, I used to think that he was Carl’s dad.” She giggles softly, probably thinking that the idea was absurd now, and Sydney briefly looks up to glance at Shane, who was leaning against a tree. “Oh, why?” Sydney asks, but he’s not sure if he actually wants the answer. 

“Mr Grimes wasn’t around then, um, I didn’t know that then though.” She clarifies, “Mr Walsh was with Mrs Grimes and Carl though, so I guess I just assumed. They seemed like they were together so-“ Sophia trails off, looking around, as if checking to make sure no one had heard her and thankfully they were talking so low that no one had. 

Sydney lets her keep talking, of course, as more people begin to settle in around them. She’s basically giving him everything, and he takes in as much information as she can. She talks about the precious camp, how they had been attacked by those things , and she looks so uncomfortable talking about it that he kind of wants to stop her. She mentions Andrea’s sister, Jim, the CDC, the other woman that they had lost. 

“What about Daryl?” Sydney asks, once she had stopped talking, glancing around to make sure that the man himself wasn’t present. He has a feeling the guy wouldn’t like being talked about. 

“Oh, Mr Dixon? He came with his brother, at the other camp. I don’t think people liked them very much.” Sophia winces, “I think, um, Mr Dixon’s brother got left behind when they went to the city.” She bites her lip, looking away slightly. 

Left behind? Christ. 

About ten minutes later, everyone had settled in, including Daryl himself, and Carol had handed him and Sophia their own plate of food and Sydney tried not to eat it all in a minute flat. 

“Um, guys.” Sydney looks up from here he was pushing his food around on his plate, to see Glenn, standing up and looking around at all of them. He looks nervous, it was easy to tell that just by looking at him. Great, what now? The brunette shoves the last remaining food in his mouth, glancing at Sophia briefly before back at Glenn. Everyone else was looking at him. 

“So, uh.” Glenn clears his throat, “The barn is full of walkers.” 

The barn is what.

His heart seems to drop in his chest, as he looks in the distance, seeing the barn not that far from camp and then back at the group. People look confused, Sydney himself was confused. What the hell does that mean? There were a bunch of the dead in the barn? The barn that was just down the road from them? 

Everyone starts moving at once, and oh shit , he thinks as he puts his plate down. He looks at Sophia, who seems to be looking for her mom, who was grasping at Lori’s arm and already on her way to follow after Shane, who had taken off. “Stay right here.” Sydney told Sophia quickly, standing up and jogging over to his tent, reaching inside and grabbing his hatchet, which was off to the side. He pulled back, going over to meet Sophia and holding out his hand, “Come on.” He wasn’t about to just leave her behind.

He feels her soft hands grasp his, and he quickly begins to follow after where everyone else had disappeared to. 

Everyone had formed around the front of the barn, and Sydney stopped them next to everyone else as Shane moved closer to the barn to, what he assumed was, check it out. And god, does Shane ever look pissed about this revelation. 

“You cannot tell me you’re alright with this.” Shane pushes past Rick, rubbing a hand briskly over the top of his head. 

“No, I’m not, but we’re guests here. This isn’t our land.” Rick answers. 

Okay, but why the hell do they have a barn full of walkers? Why were they just finding out about this now? Sydney has no idea what he’s gotten himself into with this group. He looks beside him, and Sophia looks slightly scared and his heart kind of breaks, “Hey, it’s okay, alright? Nothing is gonna hurt you.” He soothes. 

“This is our lives!” Shane shouts at them, Glenn briefly telling him to lower his voice. 

Andrea scoffs, “We can’t just sweep this under the rug.” 

“It ain’t right. Not remotely.” Shane starts, “We either gotta go in there, we’ve got to make things right or we’ve just got to go. We’ve been talking about Fort Benning for a long time.” 

Fort Benning? Sydney really feels like he’s on the outside looking in, but really, he kind of is. 

“We can’t go!” Rick says harshly, and Sydney looks over at Lori, wondering if Rick knows she’s pregnant and wondering if she actually took the abortion pills. 

“Why, Rick? Why?” Shane snaps back, and honestly, it isn’t hard to see the tension between the two of them. They’re both leaders and Shane is trying to fight him for it, they’re both trying to be top dog and it just doesn’t work like that. 

“Just, listen, let me talk to Hershel. We can figure this out. If we’re gonna stay, if we’re gonna clear this barn, I have to talk him into it. This is his land!” Rick raises his voice, pointing at the barn. 

“Hershel sees those things in there as people,” Dale interjects, “Sick people. His wife, his step son.” 

“You knew?” 

“Yesterday I talked to Hershel.” Dale defends. 

“And you waited for the night?” Shane almost explodes on him, glaring daggers. 

“I thought we could survive one more night.” Dale answers sarcastically, “And we did.” 

Well, he’s not wrong. 

“I was waiting till this morning to say something, but Glenn wanted to be the one.” 

Sydney suddenly feels a lot less safe sleeping in his tent. 

Shane stares at Dale, before looking at Rick, “This man is crazy, Rick, if Hershel thinks those things are alive-“ He’s yelling again, at Rick, at anybody, and Rick is trying to make him stop before he causes a scene. Or before he causes another. 

Sydney jumps suddenly, as the barn door moves and the chains rattle, his breath catching as he hears the faint growling of the dead on the other side. He pulls Sophia closer to him, as he stares ahead of him at the barn. He follows everyone else’s lead, pushing back farther away from it, suddenly feeling like he might throw his delicious breakfast right back up. 

“Just let me talk to Hershel, man.” Rick sighs, clasping his hand on Shane’s shoulder. 

Sydney is actually surprised that Rick managed to calm Shane down, but he did it. So that’s why he had returned to base camp, Sophia still clinging to him, and unsure of what to do with himself now. A little while after that, Lori came over to steal Sophia away for some school work, and Sydney tried really hard to not laugh at the idea of people thinking that school work was still important nowadays. He guesses some of them think that things can still go back to normal, but he really isn’t that optimistic. 

He looks around, before spotting Glenn on top of the RV, where he must be keeping watch. He shields his eyes from the sun, looking up towards the man, “Hey, mind if I join you?” Sydney calls out, loud enough so Glenn could hear him. 

Glenn looks down at him, a little bit of surprise on his face before he shrugs, “Sure.” 

So that’s how he ended up there, sitting back in a lawn chair as Glenn looked around the farm, a rifle in his hand. They sat in silence, as Sydney debated on what he should say. “So, uh, if you don’t mind me asking, what exactly happened at the pharmacy?” He asked, watching Glenn’s face scrunch up in a grimace as he continued to look out at the grassy land. 

“Maggie got attacked. It was close.” So, it seemed that the town wasn’t as safe as they had thought. He didn’t think it was relevant to mention that he had experienced the same thing. 

“I guess that explains why she was so pissed, huh?” Sydney mused, thinking back to how furious Maggie had looked. She had risked her life to get Lori those things, most things that weren’t that important to begin with. 

Glenn nodded his head, answering Sydney’s question. 

Sydney leaves it at that, allowing them to sit (or stand, in Glenn’s case) in silence for now. He didn’t mind silence, usually, as long as he didn’t feel it was awkward. Before all this, he tended to babble a lot when he was nervous and always felt the need to just fill the silence. But now? He felt like it was better to just say nothing. These people knew nothing about him, and he barely knew anything about them, and he was really nervous and did not want to risk being told to leave. 

He was pulled from his thoughts as he heard a disturbance below them, watching Shane practically storm into the RV that was parked below them. Confusion filled him as he heard Shane moving stuff below him, but Glenn hasn’t seemed to notice anything just yet. 

“You see where he went?” Shane had come from the RV, staring up at them, but his question seemed to be mostly directed at Glenn. 

“Who?” Glenn shuffled the rifle in his hands, glancing at Sydney briefly. 

Shane scoffed, the permanent glare in his eyes. “Don’t even try to shit me, okay?” 

Sydney couldn’t help but just blink in surprise, wondering what was stuck up Shane’s ass right now. He remembers him, from the station, and he was never like this. Of course they weren’t friends, he worked in IT, but he’d seen him and Rick and they weren’t like this. Nothing like this. Nothing scary like this.

“What?” A baffled Glenn just answered. 

“ Dale , Glenn.” Shane’s eyes peeled across the farm, “Did you see where Dale went?”

Sydney just watched this exchange go down, having nothing to really contribute to the conversation anyways. He had no clue where Dale was. “Uh, yeah, he asked me to run and get him some water? He said he’d cover me on watch.” Glenn explained. 

Shane shook his head, perhaps in disbelief, “And he was gone when you got back, huh?”

“Um, yeah.” Glenn started to look worried, from what Sydney could see, “You think he’s okay?” Sydney sat up a bit straighter in the chair at that. 

Shane let out a cold laugh, “Oh yeah, he’s fine.” 

“Why’d he bail then?” 

“So you wouldn’t tell me which way he went.” 

“Uh, I don’t get what’s happening right now.” Join the club Glenn. 

“No man, you don’t.” Was the last thing the bald headed man said before he stalked off. 

Sydney looked at Glenn, and Glenn looked at Sydney. “What the hell was that?” Sydney asked uneasily, staring off into the direction that Shane was stalking off too. This group clearly had problems, and he was very unaware of all of them. 

“I actually have no idea. In case you couldn’t tell, Shane is kind of, uh, intense. I’m sure it’s fine.” Glenn seemed to be kind of reassuring himself at this point, staring the same direction that Sydney was. 

A little while later, Sydney had switched spots with Glenn, allowing the younger man to take a seat in the lawn chair. He sat with his legs dangling off the edge of the RV, alternating between staring at the ground and then across the long stretch of fields, silently helping Glenn keep watch while he did. He’d like to at least try and be useful, it wouldn’t really be a great idea if he just stuck himself in his tent all day. Not a very good way to get people to trust you. 

Glenn suddenly stood up from his post, “Maggie! Hey-“ He dropped the rifle on the ground, and before Sydney could even process he was already on his way to getting off the RV. “Could you keep watch for a minute?” The Asian man asked, more like told, before he hopped off and his feet touched the ground. 

Sydney watched him go, chasing after Maggie who didn’t seem to really want to talk to him at first. His guess? They had something going on between them, and Glenn was the one to tell them there were walkers in the barn so he could only assume that he knew that from Maggie. Possibly. And now she’s pissed because he told the group. That was his guess. 

Oh, hold on, are they kissing? 

Yeah, they’re kissing. 

Glenn did not return, actually, he continued to talk to Maggie on the steps of the house. Naturally, when Sydney saw more people gathering over there, he also hopped off the RV to go see what was going on. He moved over to where everyone else was, smiling at Sophia who was sitting on the step alongside Carl. Imagine, his only friend here is a pre teen girl, isn’t that just amazing. 

Shane appeared in the distance, and was he carrying a bag of guns? 

“What the hell is going on?” Daryl asked him, and wow, he didn’t even realize the guy was up and moving after almost getting his head blown off. 

“You with me man?” Shane shoved a shotgun into Daryl’s hands, and Sydney furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. As he heard Daryl’s brief “Yeah” he had to assume this was about the walkers in the barn. Was Shane going to….?

“Time to grow up,” He glanced at Andrea, “You already got yours?” 

“Yeah. Where’s Dale?” Didn’t that seem to be the question of the day. 

“On his way.” Was all Shane said. 

“Thought we couldn’t carry?” T-Dog shot towards Shane, and Sydney could only assume that Hershel hadn’t wanted them to carry guns on the land. Reasonable, he guesses. 

“We can and we have to.” Shane looked around at everyone, raising his voice to be heard, “Look, it was one thing sitting around here picking daisies, when we thought this place was supposed to be safe. But now we know it ain’t.” He exposes another shotgun, holding it out to Glenn, “How about you, man? You gonna protect yours?” Glenn hesitates, looking at Maggie before he takes the gun from Shane. 

Was Shane really going to make them do this? 

“Can you shoot?” Shane looks at Maggie, who looks between both pissed and scared. 

“Can you stop? You do this, you hand out these guns, my dad will make you leave tonight!” Maggie practically yells at him. 

Sophia was walking down the steps of the house, “I don’t want to leave.” She says nervously, walking towards Sydney, as she glanced at Shane. Sydney wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close, feeling the need to just protect her. 

“What is this?” Lori appears, from inside the house he assumed. 

Shane set the bag of guns down, “We ain’t going anywhere, okay?” He stares at all of them, “Now look, Hershel, he’s just gotta understand. Okay, he, well, he’s gonna have to.” 

What if he didn’t? 

There was a pause, before he heard T-Dog, “Oh shit.” 

Everyone turned to where T-Dog was, and what the hell? Sydney squinted, and from what he could tell that was Hershel and Rick— with walkers? Who he assumed was Jimmy was helping to bait the walkers forward as Rick and Hershel wrangled the dead with some sort of catcher, and Sydney just kind of stared. And then, everyone was running, Shane leading the pack. Sydney looked at Sophia, before they both took off running as well after the group. He could already hear Shane yelling. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Shane yelled in disbelief. 

“Shane just back off-“ 

“Why do your people have guns?” Hershel said. 

“Are you kidding me? You see? You see what they’re holding onto?” Shane paces around, pointing a figure at the walkers that were growling and snapping, itching to get their teeth on something live. 

“I see who I’m holding onto!” Hershel yells back, looking enraged. 

Shane was still stomping around, as if he was circling them, “Nah man, you don’t.” 

“Shane, just let us do this and we can talk!” Rick pleaded with the man, but it was clear it wasn’t going to work. Sydney thinks that Shane was someone that just didn’t listen to others. 

“What you want to talk about Rick? Huh?” Shane scoffed, “These things ain’t sick! They’re not people!” 

Well, Sydney couldn’t argue that, but what was happening right now was just insane. 

“They are dead! Ain’t gonna feel nothing for them, ‘cause all they, they kill! These things right here, they’re the things that killed Amy!” Andrea's sister, he knew that. He looked around in despair, at everyone else’s faces, especially Andrea’s which was looking a little distraught. “They killed Otis!” Who? “They’re gonna kill all of us!” 

“Shane! Shut up!” Rick was losing his temper, fed up with the person who used to be his best friend. 

Shane was out of his goddamn mind, and anyone could see that. But nobody could do anything about it. Sophia was practically quivering beside him, and everyone else was just watching things unfold. 

“Hey, Hershel man, let me ask you something.” Shane pulled out his gun, “Could a living breathing person, could they walk away from this?” He cocked it, before firing a bullet into the walker, despite Rick’s yell to not. Everyone around jumped in shock, even Sydney, the loud gunshot echoing throughout the farm land. And another. And another. 

“Stop it!” The pleading was getting them nowhere. 

“That’s three rounds in the chest. Could someone who’s alive, could they just take that?” Shane pointed at the lady, the walker, “Why is it still coming?” Another two shots to the chest. “That’s it’s heart, it’s lungs!” Everyone knew this. There was no need for this, but it continued anyways. “Why is it still coming?!” Shane was practically screaming now, and another three shots followed the previous two, and Sydney felt his breathing increase slightly. 

“Shane, enough! Stop!” Rick was helpless to do anything, seeing as he was holding the other dead, the one that hasn’t been bullied by Shane yet. 

“Yeah, you’re right, man.” He walked forward, towards the walker that Hershel was holding, “That is enough.” Before he fired a single shot, in between its eyes. It fell to the ground, Hershel following with it. Everyone stared, in disbelief and confusion written across their faces. It appeared that everyone else felt the same, unsure of what exactly to do about Shane’s outburst. 

Shane was still ranting and yelling, but Sydney had decided at this point to just tune him out. He looked at that rotten body on the ground, where Hershel was on his knees next to it, and Maggie had rushed to comfort him. Sydney felt that Hershel probably knew that person, or what used to be a person, and he felt a sharp stab of sympathy hit his heart. 

“Hershel, take the snare pole, Hershel!” Sydney watched as Rick begged Hershel to take the pole that was holding the walker, as Shane rushed towards the barn, and oh god. Everyone was yelling, and he had no idea what to do. Ahead of them, Shane was going at the barn with a pickaxe as he hit the lock over and over again, trying to get it to come loose to free the walkers that laid just behind the door. 

People were still yelling and Rick was trying to get him to stop, but nothing was stopping him now as the weapon hit the door over and over again, and Sydney didn’t even realize he was holding his breath right now. 

The lock came loose. 

Everyone was screaming for Shane to stop, but he didn't even appear to be listening. Shane angrily threw the two by four aside, grasping the handles of the barn and pulling them wide open, or as wide as they could come. 

The first walker came out, a bald man dressed in overalls, and Sydney watched as Shane raised his gun. Everyone with a gun rushed forward, knowing that there was no stopping it now and they would have to help. And then the gunshots started. 

“Stay right here, don’t move okay?” He told Sophia, as he pulled his hatchet from his belt where he had kept it, and he saw Rick just standing there, unsure of what to do. Without even thinking, Sydney jogged over and buried the hatchet inside the walker's skull, planting his foot on the man's abdomen and pushing hard, watching it fall to the ground and his hatchet coming right back to his hand. Rick nodded at him briefly, as he rushed forward to help the others aid in clearing out the barn. There was nothing else to do but that. 

After it was over, it was silent, and nobody moved. The bodies laid on the ground, full of bullet wounds and everyone just kind of stared. No one knew what to do now. Sydney could hear Beth sobbing behind him. He wondered who all these people were to his family. Brother, sister, cousin? Mother, father? Neighbour? He knew they were already dead before, but he still felt bad that they had to watch it happen like this. 

Suddenly, through the silence came Beth, stumbling past everyone and hiccuping through her sobs. Rick’s attempts to stop her didn’t work, as she practically ran towards one of the downed bodies, falling to the ground as she shoved one of the other rotten corpses aside. 

Sydney barely hears the faint, “Ma,” before the walker starts snapping at Beth, the rotten fingers reaching up to grip onto the teenage girl's shoulders. Everyone starts moving at once, rushing to help the poor girl, trying to pull Beth from the grasps of the dead as the others try to pull the walker off of Beth. The brunette fumbles with his hatchet, realizing that the rest of the group was too busy trying to stop the walker from sinking her teeth into her daughter's skin. He scrambles just like the rest of them, trying to not accidentally hit Beth with the weapon in the process and as the others tug Beth farther away, he swings the hatchet forward and towards the head of the walker. Instead of hitting its mark, it buried itself into the neck, and the walker growls and snaps in despair as Sydney lets out an “Oh shit,” as he desperately pulls the hatchet back, before he tries again and hits the target head on this time, the hatchet killing the third walker of the week. And two in one day? Wow. The walker slumps forward as Beth cries in both sadness and terror, as her family rushes to help her up and away, probably away from Rick’s group and the fallen walkers around them. 

Everyone begins to disperse, and he does notice that Shane is following after Hershel’s family and he wonders if the guy ever quits. Sydney tugs the hatchet out of the rotten flesh below him, before suddenly turning away to throw up the same eggs that he had eaten just a short couple hours ago. He coughs, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before he realizes that his hands are shaking, badly, and he forces himself to close his eyes and breathe shakily. 

He never really lets himself get so close to the walkers, and that was three times in just the past couple of days. Christ. 

“You okay man?” Sydney looks up at the sound of voice, just now noticing T-Dog a short few feet away from him. 

He leans down, wiping the blood off his hatchet onto the grass below him, and for a moment he thinks he should invest in some sort of rag if he’s going to be doing this more often. “Yeah, I’m good. Just not used to it.” It sounds ridiculous, seeing how he had been out on his own, but he mostly preferred to flee the scene or avoid them when he looted buildings. 

“I don’t think you ever get used to it.” The other man chuckles, as he tucks his gun into the waistband of his pants. 

He really didn’t know how well he’d be proven wrong. 

Chapter Text

The dust settled silently and quickly, just as fast as Shane had started all of this. His ears were still ringing from all the gunshots, and honestly, he would be a bit concerned if any nearby walkers had heard it. None have stumbled by yet, but it was a lot of gunfire, even if they were pretty far out in the middle of nowhere. Shane was….. bonkers. Was the only way to put it. Did no one else seemingly get that vibe from Shane? Maybe they had been around him so long that they didn’t notice it, or they chose to ignore it. It was not the man that had been Rick’s partner before the shooting. He shakes his head, looking down at the hatchet in his hands, before looking back up at the mess scattered around the barn. This was a shit show. 

“Sydney?” 

He blinks in surprise, looking up, seeing the little girl in front of him and a little smile appears on his face. “Hey Sophia, what’s up? You okay?” The girl did look a little shaken up, and he wouldn’t be surprised if she was. 

“Oh, that was so loud. And scary.” Sophia explains, and Sydney nods in agreement. 

Sydney lays a hand on her shoulder, steering her away from the pile of dead bodies, not wanting her to have to see anymore than she already had. He has no idea how she’s been coping since she had returned from the woods, but she looks much better than she had just a short few days ago. “I know. But it’s over now. You don’t have to worry about it anymore. Where’s your mom at?” He hasn’t really met the woman, which is odd, you think she would’ve said something to him seeing as he had come back with her daughter. Not to thank him or anything, but to say anything at all. 

“I think she’s with Mrs Grimes, they’re like best friends.” Sophia explains, “I think she’s lonely since Dad died.” 

Wow. Well, that wasn’t what he had been expecting from the little girl. Preteen? He didn’t really know, but she was a child to him. Of course, children are always more perceptive  than you think they are and they pick up more than you think. “That’s reasonable then, I guess.” He almost cringes, not really sure of what to say, “You have uh, Carl though right? He’s around your age, I’m sure he’s your friend.” They were the two youngest on the farm, besides Beth and Jimmy he assumed, and the two sets were very different in maturity still. 

Sophia’s nose scrunched up slightly, “I guess so,” She pauses and looks around, before looking up at Sydney, “He’s a little annoying.” 

Sydney can’t help but let out a loud laugh, “Yeah, boys his age usually are.” He didn’t know enough of the little boy to find him annoying yet, but he’ll take Sophia’s word for it. Probably didn’t help that they were being forced to grow up in a post apocalypse world. “It’s cool though, you can hang with me. Unless I’m too old, not cool enough.” He jokes. 

“No! You’re way cooler than Carl.” Sophia enforces, as they stop at the main fire pit, and Sydney takes that as his cue to take a seat in one of the lawn chairs. He gestures for her to join him, as they both end up sitting side by side. “Great, I knew I would be.” Sydney responds, dropping his hatchet onto the ground next to him, looking around the camp. 

He could get used to this. 

Later, it had come time to make a decision of what they were going to do with the bodies that were now scattered along the ground outside of the barn. Sydney just stands by, returning when he noticed people had begun to regather around the bodies. Of course, he hadn’t brought Sophia with him, not wanting to put her through anymore of the dead today. They had spent quite a bit talking, and it was good to just sit back and talk to someone who wasn’t as burdened as you were. Anyways, he appears to have zoned out a tad, but when he checks back into reality he catches the end of the conversation, spoken from Andrea, “We bury be ones we love, and burn the rest.” She was talking to a boy who looked to be around his own height, and he figures that must be Jimmy, the one that Beth had gotten the clothes from.

Beth. 

The brunette takes off after Jimmy, who had started to walk away from the group, “Hey, uh, I’m Sydney. Jimmy, right?” 

The other male looks slightly startled at the prospect of someone from the other group just talking to him, and he clears his throat, “Oh, yeah. That’s me.” 

Sydney nods, “Thanks for the clothes, by the way. I’m not sure if Beth just stole them from you, but thanks anyways.” He was hoping that maybe he wasn’t so grouped in with the others, holding out hope that Hershel and his family didn’t dislike him as much as they seemed to the others. He had heard that Hershel had asked them to leave, but he hasn’t really done anything to show his loyalty to the Greene family. 

“Oh, yeah. She told me. No problem, I have more than enough to spare one outfit.” The younger boy shrugs. 

Sydney has a second to think of how he wants to go about this before he decides to just go for it, “Good, good. Do you think it would be okay if I went to check on Beth? She kind of helped me out when I first got here, so I’d like to see if I could repay the favour.” Jimmy sort of stares at him for a second, seemingly unsure of what to say before Sydney continues, “That was her mom, wasn’t it?” 

“Yeah, Annette. And her brother, Shawn.” Jimmy looks slightly guilty, and he gives Sydney a once over, “I’m sure it’s fine. Just head on in, I gotta help the rest of y’all with the, uh, bodies.” 

“Thanks man.” Sydney gave him a slight smile, before he started towards the house. 

The Greene house was the same as the last time he had been in it, and he could tell that the house had been there a long time. It just had that sort of vibe. The moral dilemma he had was if he had to take his shoes off or not, but eventually he decided that it was the apocalypse and he didn’t see any other shoes around so he just tried his best to wipe them off onto the welcoming mat before he continued into the house. The house was pretty big, but he could hear the faint voices of Glenn and Maggie speaking to each other, but other than that he didn’t spot anyone. He followed the sounds, which eventually led him to one of the entrances to the kitchen and he assumed that the couple (?) was just in the other room. Sydney easily spotted the teenage blonde at the kitchen, who seemed to be currently doing the dishes, staring off into space. 

“Hey, Beth-“ No more words came out as he watched the other turn towards him, her arm crashing into the dry dishes on the counter and sending them falling to the ground in a large clatter. Without even thinking, he moved forward and felt the girl slump into his arms, almost completely lifeless. “Beth?!” He pretty much yelled in shock, as Maggie and Glenn rushed into the kitchen to help. Without knowing what to do, he scooped her into his arms, looking fearfully at Maggie, “What do I do?” 

He barely even noticed that Beth was fully awake, eyes dull as she stared at the ceiling. 

“Oh my god, come with me.” Maggie said in a hurry, taking off out of the entrance. 

Beth barely weighed anything, so thankfully he was able to carry her without any sort of trouble (he’s pretty skinny, so anything heavier and he’d probably collapse) into a white painted room, and he understood easily that Maggie wanted him to put her down on the bed. He wasn’t sure if this was even Beth’s room, or just the first room that Maggie was. Sydney carefully laid her down on the bed, his arms feeling the relief as he put her down. 

Maggie was caressing the girls cheek, trying to coax some words out of her, looking just about as worried as a big sister should be. Suddenly, Lori’s head peaked into the bedroom, clearly having heard the commotion that happened just moments ago. 

“What’s wrong with her?” Maggie had asked, not necessarily towards anyone. 

“She could be in shock.” Sydney offered, as he looked down at the pale girl on the bed, who wasn’t responding to anyone around her. “It must’ve just hit her, a moment ago.” He added. 

Lori looked at Beth, and then back at Maggie, “Where’s Hershel?” 

Good question. 

“We can’t find him anywhere.” Glenn added from the other side of the room, and Sydney had momentarily forgot he was even there. And hold on, they can’t find Hershel? Since when was that a thing? He really needed to pay more attention around here. 

“What?” Lori said in shock, before quickly recovering, “I’ll go get Rick.” And disappearing just as quickly as she came. 

Sydney sat down on the other side of the bed, Maggie occupying the other side as she held her sister’s face in her hands, speaking softly to her. “She’ll be okay, Maggie. I know you don’t know me that well, but I can assure you she’ll be okay. I’ve seen things like this before, people do this. She just needs time to let her brain catch up to her body.” He told the other brunette, as he looked down at Beth, really hoping that what he said turned out to be true. 

Moments later, Lori reappeared in the doorway, “Rick and Shane are out here. You okay to talk to them?” She asked Maggie. 

Maggie looked at her sister, and then back to Lori. “Hey, I’ll stay with her?” Sydney offered weakly, “I can just keep her company until you come back, in case she says anything.” He shrugged, knowing even though they may not have a reason to trust him, they still could. 

Glenn moved over to Maggie and laid a reassuring hand on her back, “Hey, it’s okay, she’ll be okay.” He told her, sounding confident, as he slowly pulled her away from the girl on the bed, leaving the room. 

And then, it was just Sydney and Beth. 

“You’ll be okay.” He said, but he really wasn’t sure if he was telling her or himself. 

Patricia and Jimmy showed up not long after, and Sydney let the boy take his spot on the bed, knowing that he was much more closer to Beth than he was. Hell, Sydney had only had a couple interactions with her, but he just wanted to make sure that she was okay. Glenn poked his head in and looked at Sydney, “Hey, me and Rick are gonna head into town to look for Hershel. Rick has a pretty good idea where he’ll be. You seemed to handle going into town last time pretty well, wanna come?” Sydney’s mind flashed back to the walker he had killed, and he almost said no, but he looked at Beth and somehow he just said, “Sure.” 

He walked with Glenn out into the hall, taking one last glance back at Beth. “Where do you guys figure he’s at?” Sydney inquired. 

“The town bar.” Glenn said almost regretfully, “Maggie told us he used to, uh, drink.” 

Damn. 

Outside, Rick was waiting for them, and he gave Sydney a nod when he saw him. “Is it cool if I take a second to go grab my hatchet?” He asked, looking between the two, realizing he had probably set it down somewhere inside when Beth had collapsed. 

“Is that all you have?” Rick asked him, looking slightly surprised.

Well, he did get robbed. “I have that and a pocket knife in my tent. I only have the stuff I got when I went into town with Glenn and Maggie.” He answered truthfully. 

Rick looked at him for a second, before he turned on his heel and went down the steps, walking over to Daryl who was fiddling with something on his bike. Well, he assumed the badass looking motorcycle had to be owned by Daryl because he couldn’t think of anyone else who would be riding something like that. They talk for a minute, and Daryl looks over at him briefly and squints his eyes, before he hands something off to Rick, and the sheriff’s deputy returns as if he never left, except this time he held a small gun in his hand, smaller than the revolver that he had strapped to his hip. “Ever use one of these before?” Rick asked.

Sydney blinked. “Oh, uh, yeah. At a shooting range once.” It was a birthday present, and a very odd one. 

Rick hands him the gun, and honestly he has no idea what kind it is because he does not know guns. “Uh, thanks?” Sydney answers, tucking the gun into his waistband, after he checks to make sure the safety was on. Could you imagine if he shot himself? They would for sure kick him out after that. 

“Don’t make me regret it.” The other says, and next thing he knows is that they’re moving towards a car, getting ready to head off. 

It’s silent. Eerily silent, but he doesn’t really mind it that much. He stares out the window, sitting in the back, voluntarily, watching the green leaves blur by. He hadn’t been in a car since just before this all started, basically, not since- he shakes his head, removing the thoughts from his head. He did not want to be thinking of this right now. 

“Maggie said she loves me.” 

Hold on, what? 

Sydney turns his attention back to the front of the car, where Glenn had his head turned towards Rick, but clearly he didn’t mind that Sydney was in the backseat. 

Rick makes a noise, but says nothing. “She doesn’t mean it.” Glenn says, sounding about as in denial as it gets. “She can’t, I mean, well- she’s upset or confused, or something.” He reasons. 

The driver finally says something, “Well I think she’s smart enough to know what she’s feeling.” 

Amen to that. 

“Not meaning to eavesdrop, because I am like a foot away from you guys, but I’ve been here less than a week and I agree with Rick.” Sydney butts in, “Does not seem like the type of girl to say it unless she really means it.” 

“I didn’t say it back.” Glenn coughs out, “I’ve never had someone say it to me before! I mean, my mom, obviously, but that doesn’t really count. It’s different, with Maggie. We barely know each other.” 

“The heart wants what it wants.” Sydney states. 

“Agreed. Listen, you don’t have to know everything about each other, Glenn. You have time, and there is enough gloom in this world to let something like this pass up.” Rick taps his fingers on the wheel, glancing at Glenn every so often. 

Sydney leans forward in his seat, and of course he’s wearing his seatbelt, “She knows enough, buddy. Just let her know how you feel when we get back.” 

Soon enough, they’re pulling into the town and to the bar that they had figured Hershel would be at. Rick pulls up along the curb, putting the vehicle in park and pulling out the keys. They’re about exit, when Glenn suddenly speaks up, “Rick?” There’s a small pause, “I know about Lori.” 

Sydney suddenly wishes he was not here anymore. 

“About her being pregnant.” Glenn clarifies, and Rick looks back at Sydney, and the other clarifies, “He knows. He saw the pills that I got.” Sydney thinks back to Maggie throwing the things at Lori. 

“I figured.” Was the only response Glenn got, as the other exited the vehicle. Sydney let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, and he unbuckled his belt and climbed out after the other two. 

“I’m sorry I kept it from you.” Clearly, they weren’t dropping it. Sydney pulled out the weapon that had been gifted to him, pointing it towards the pavement and his finger off the trigger. He wasn’t stupid, he knew basic gun safety. Last thing he needed was to accidentally let off a shot, or accidentally shoot somebody or himself. 

Rick walked forward, gun drawn, “Don’t be. You did what you thought was right.” 

Sydney decided right then and there that he likes Rick way more than Shane. 

“It just so happens it wasn’t.” 

Well, he still likes Rick way more. 

He watches as the sheriff moves ahead of them, and when he is slightly out of ear shot he whispers to Glenn, “Don’t worry, that was a lose lose situation.” Both options would leave a party not satisfied, clearly. Glenn tells Rick that Lori is pregnant, Lori throws a fit cause it’s not Glenn’s business. Glenn doesn’t tell Rick, and well, this happens. Sydney has no idea what he would do in Glenn’s situation, because once you know, you know. You can’t just delete the information from your brain and pretend you don’t know, that isn’t how it worked. Unfortunately. 

The three of them step inside the bar, which stinks of alcohol (for obvious reasons), Glenn clutching his shotgun and Rick’s dominant hand over the holstered weapon strapped to his hip. Despite the couple months of apocalypse running through it, the place looks relatively okay. Of course it’s dusty and the bar is a mess, but he’s surprised that there isn’t any overthrown furniture or smashed bottles on the ground. Guess the town was pretty quiet, and not many people passed through when scavenging. 

Hershel sits at the other end of the bar, his back facing them, but he doesn’t seem disturbed at the sound of people entering the building. He had probably assumed sooner or later someone would try to come and pick him up. 

Rick clears his throat, “Hershel?” 

“Who’s with you?” Hershel doesn’t bother to turn around and look at them, just nursing the drink in his hand. 

“Glenn and Sydney.” Rick moves forward slightly, clearly trying to gauge what he was dealing with, and how to approach it. Of course, Rick was the perfect man for the job, considering his job. 

Hershel chuckles, and Sydney pauses to peer out the dusty window, surveying the area just to make sure they wouldn’t be getting any surprises. “Maggie sent him?” The older man was clearly referring to Glenn, and Sydney had a feeling that Hershel didn’t really approve of the relationship between his daughter and Glenn.

“He volunteered, and asked Sydney to come too. He’s good like that.” Rick defended them, and Sydney glanced at Glenn and could tell the latter was just a tad bit uncomfortable. The sheriff approaches Hershel, resting his forearm against the bar, “How many have you had?” 

Of course, the answer is, “Not enough.” 

Sydney moves through the space, walking behind the bar and glancing at the remains of alcohol that had been left behind. There was a considerable amount left, and the people that came after them might be more interested in it then they were. He didn’t drink much, didn’t allow himself to get wasted like he had in the early stages of his life, and he was completely sober for a couple years straight before he trusted himself to have a little. He wasn’t an alcoholic, but there were much worse things to be addicted to then the bottle. 

“Listen,” Rick starts, “You need to come home. Beth’s collapsed. We think she’s in a state of shock, and I think you are too.” Sydney regrets a little leaving the farmhouse, wondering how Beth was doing currently and actually found himself a little anxious to get back and see her. Even though they had only had a couple conversations, she seemed like a sweet girl who had her young adult life snatched from her by this cruel world, and he just wanted her to be okay. 

This appears to get Hershel’s attention, finally looking up from his drink, “Maggie’s with her?” Of course he knew that, and Sydney knows where this is going as Rick affirms, “Yes but she needs you too.” 

“She doesn’t need me, she needs her mother.” Hershel scoffs, and Sydney thinks back to Beth sobbing at the rotten body at the ground and he feels terrible for this family. “Or rather to mourn, like she should’ve done weeks ago. I robbed her of that.” Hershel sounded disappointed in himself, and Sydney wondered how the rest of Hershel’s family felt about the walkers in the barn, and wondered if it’s true that Beth had been robbed of the chance to properly mourn the people that she had lost. 

Rick is trying his best to appeal to Hershel, and Sydney can see that, “You had hope there was a cure. You can’t blame yourself for that.” 

Sydney can’t remember the last time he had thought of the idea of a cure, maybe not for a couple weeks since everything started. When the bombs had dropped down on the city, it was the first doubt of hope he felt that the military was going to swoop in and save them from this horror show. Or when he had killed his first walker. He was long past the idea of a cure. 

“Hope?” Hershel seemed to find the idea silly, sitting up straighter, “When I first saw you running across my field with your boy in your arms, I had little hope he would survive.” 

Of course, Carl had been shot, the whole reason that Rick’s group was at the farm in the first place. “But he did.” Rick counters.

“He did.” Hershel amends, “Even though we lost Otis. Your man Shane made it back, and we saved your boy. That was the miracle that proved to me that miracles existed. Only it was a sham. A bait and a switch.” He pauses to breathe, “I was a fool. And you people saw that. My daughters deserve better than that.” He ends it by picking up the bottle placed out in front of him, tipping it up to pour the rest of the bottle into his glass. 

Otis. He had known that Carl had been shot, but he wasn’t entirely aware of the circumstances or what had gone down before he showed up. Maybe he could ask Glenn later, or someone at least, just so he didn’t feel out of the loop. He should really try and talk to more people, insert himself into the group so they didn’t just see him as an outsider. Sophia couldn’t be his only friend, that would be a little weird, and she couldn’t exactly give him details of what had happened before he showed up to the farm. 

Rick had retreated from Hershel, to the door of the bar, and Sydney huddled up alongside him with Glenn, who were already beginning to talk to each other. 

“So, uh, what’s the plan here? Wait for him to pass out?” Glenn sounded a little stressed, leaning against the open doorway of the bar, staring out at the scenery before him. 

Sydney raises an eyebrow, “And how long do you think that’ll take?” He says almost sarcastically. 

“Just go.” Hershel says, and of course he could hear them. “Just go!” He raises his voice after presumably he heard the sound of them, well, not leaving. 

“I promised Maggie I’d bring you home safe.” 

“Just like you promised that little girl? You didn’t even manage to find her yourself. Some stranger had to bring her back to you, and one of your men stole my horse and got himself shot looking for her.” Hershel scoffs, and Sydney rubs a hand over his face, wishing he was back at the farmhouse right about now. 

There’s a moment of silence. 

“So, what’s your plan? Finish that bottle?” Rick takes steps towards the white haired man, “Drink yourself to death, leave your girls all alone?” 

It seems to spark something in Hershel, whose glass thuds on the bar and he stands up to finally face them, “Stop telling me how to care for my family, my farm. You people are like a plague! I do the Christian thing, give you shelter, and you destroy it all!” He yells. 

Glenn had stepped inside the bar again, shutting the door behind him, and Sydney glances at him, and mutually they both agree to just sort of stay out of this. 

The two clashing men step forward, meeting each other in the middle of the floor as Rick replies, “The world was already in bad shape when we met. Don’t try to put your problems on me.” 

“And you take no responsibility!” Hershel hisses at the other leader, and Sydney honestly can’t tell if this is drunk Hershel or normal Hershel. “You’re supposed to be their leaders!”

Rick’s voice begins to raise alongside the others, “Well I’m here now, aren’t I?”

Hershel seems to step back at that, “Yes.” He says as if the fight had just been stripped of him, “Yes. Yes you are.” He turns away from them, taking his seat back at the bar and picking his glass back up. 

Rick follows him, of course, “Come home. Your girls need you now more than ever.” He pleads, resting a hand on Hershel’s shoulder. 

“I didn’t want to believe you,” Hershel starts as he forcefully shrugs off the hand, “You told me there was no cure, that these people were dead, not sick. I chose not to believe that.” He is facing Rick now, “But when Shane shot Lou in the chest, and she just kept coming, that’s when I knew what an ass I’d been. That Annette had been dead a long time, and I was feeding a rotten corpse. That’s when I knew there was no hope. And you know it, there is no hope, we all know it.” 

Rick looks at Hershel, and then back over at Sydney and Glenn, a stony look in his eyes as Hershel continues, “There is no hope for any of us.” 

“Death is death, Hershel. It’s always been there, whether it’s from heart attack, cancer or a walker. What’s the difference?” Rick asks, “You didn’t think it was hopeless before, did you? Now there are people back home trying to hang on. They need us, even if it’s just to give them a reason to go on, even if we don’t believe it ourselves.” The rant continues as the man scrubs a hand over his face, looking like he just wants this to be over, “This isn’t just what we believe anymore. It’s about them.” 

Hershel stares at him for a moment, and as he kicks back the rest of the drink and looks like he’s finally ready to go, the door opens. 

Sydney nearly jumps out of his skin, him and Glenn both immediately stepping out of the way, as two men step inside the threshold of the bar and Sydney is very aware of the gun that he’s holding in his right hand. 

“Well, shit. They’re alive!” The skinnier one of the two proclaims, standing next to a heavier set man, a grin on his face. Oh fuck. 

“I’m Dave.” Introduces the skinnier one, as he takes a seat at one of the bar tables, “The scrawny-looking douche bag there is Tony.” Sydney can’t breathe, he’s trying so hard to force the oxygen to fill into his lungs but he can’t. Dave had poured himself and Rick a drink, leaning back against his chair. 

There’s no mistaking Dave as the man who shot him that day at the library not too long ago, and he really wished he had stayed with Beth. And there’s no mistaking that Dave glances at him a little too long, as if puzzled at the others' existence. Of course, Dave wouldn’t know that Sydney is immortal, and might think that Sydney just looks familiar, because there’s no way he would jump to the conclusion that Sydney was the man he shot. He couldn’t have survived that, realistically. 

“Eat me, Dave.” Tony retorted, leaning against the bar next to Hershel. 

“Maybe someday I will.” The brunette, Dave, hums in response. Next to him, Rick takes the drink that Dave had poured for him, clearly suspicious of the two. 

Sydney feels the same way, a pit worming itself deep inside his stomach, the anxiety building up in his chest and working its way up the longer the two men were around. It doesn’t help as Dave side eyes him every so often. He was fiddling around behind the bar, before he found a couple tiny bottles of vodka, and without thinking he pockets them. He doesn’t know why, he just does. He had laid his gun on top of the bar, far enough from the two strangers that they wouldn’t be able to grab it from him in time, because he didn’t think it was smart to be just holding a gun with them around. Sydney needs a belt, or one of those holsters that Rick possessed. 

Sydney doesn’t realize that his side of people are introducing himself until Glenn has already finished and Rick has also just said his name. He blinks and looks up from the bar, “I’m Sydney.” He says to the two men, feeling very awkward and uncomfortable. And scared, he felt scared. The scar beneath his shirt burned, as if remembering, and Sydney tried his best to not show his internal struggle. 

Dave nods in appreciation, turning his attention to Hershel, “How about you, pal? Have one?” 

“As a matter of fact, I just quit.” Hershel answers. 

“You got a unique sense of timing, my friend,” Dave grins widely, and Sydney doesn’t like the kindness one bit. 

Rick decides it's time to step in, “His name’s Hershel. He lost people today. A lot of them.” 

“I’m truly sorry to hear that.” Dave, clearly the talker of the two, answered as the smile left his face. “To better days and new friends.” He says sombrely, “To the dead, may they rest In peace.” He cheers as he kicks back the rest of his drink, the ones with drinks following in suit. 

His attention turns to Sydney, and he swears that he stops breathing right then and there, “You know, you look familiar.” Dave muses. 

Oh fuck, oh fuck, fuck, fuck. 

Sydney catches his breath silently, his hands gripping the edge of the bar as if his life depended on it, knuckles turning white. “Oh, really? I don’t recognize you.” He answers, hopefully as calmly as he can to not arouse suspicion. 

“Hm.” Dave stares at him for a little longer, before he turns back to the others and Sydney is ashamed to say that he completely tunes out the rest of the conversation. 

He hears them talking, but he doesn’t understand what they’re saying, his heart beating so loud he thinks that he can hear it. Calm down, Sydney. Calm down. Breathe. He releases his grip on the bar, running a hand through his hair, looking back at the other men in the group. 

“Yeah, doesn’t exactly look like y’all are holed up here. Staying somewhere else?” Dave questions, trying to act innocent as he does, but nobody is buying it. 

Rick stares at him, “Not really.” 

“Those your cars out front?” He presses further, clearly not enjoying the answer that he got. 

“Yeah, why?” Glenn asks, as if he was completely oblivious to the alternative motives to the two strangers. 

“Well, we're living in ours.” 

Sydney somehow doubts that, honestly. But, Dave continues, “Those look kinda empty, clean. Where’s all your gear?” 

“We’re with a larger group.” Hershel butts in, “Out scouting. Thought we could use a drink.” 

“A drink?” Dave says in disbelief, “Hershel, I thought you quit.” He smiles. 

Oh please, put Sydney out of his misery already. Why can’t they just leave? He doesn’t know how this is going to go but he doubts that the other two would just let them leave, and if they did, it’s not like they could return to the farm because they would just be followed by the two. Sydney is well aware that humans were just as dangerous, maybe even more dangerous, than the walkers that roamed the streets. There’s an awkward pause in the room, but Dave doesn’t seem to be quitting anytime soon. “Well, we’re thinking of setting up around here. Is it safe?” He quizzes. 

“It can be, although I have killed a couple walkers around here.” Glenn states, and Sydney can actually relate to that as he thinks back to the older lady in the general store. Rick looks at Glenn, as if trying to get him to shut up. 

“Walkers? That’s what you call them?” 

“Yeah.” Glenn chuckles awkwardly as Dave nods his head, as if appreciating the name. There’s a bit of back and forth between Dave and Tony, but Sydney is just praying for them to leave. 

“So what— so what, you guys set up on the outskirts or something? That new development?” guesses Dave as Tony also adds in, “Trailer park or something?” Before standing up and walking across the bar, “A farm?” As Dave responds to this with singing the opening to the song, a glint in his eyes, “You got a farm?”

Rick stares at him, just as the sound of urine hitting the floor filtered into the room, and Sydney scrunches his nose up in disgust as he finally realizes the reason that the other had moved across the bar. “Is it safe?” Tony pursues, his arm resting against a support beam. 

What the fuck is even happening right now.

“It’s gotta be.” Dave muses, his eyes roaming over the four other men, stopping at Sydney for a bit longer. He feels like the man is staring into his soul. “You got food, water?” Persists the brunette as his attention turns back to Rick, obviously noticing that the man is the leader of this bunch, which isn’t hard to pick up on.

“You got cooze?” Tony calls out, and for just a second Sydney has no clue what he’s talking about, “Ain’t had a piece of ass in weeks.” He chuckles.

Sydney shudders as he thinks of the women back on the farm, Beth, Maggie, Lori, Patricia, and he almost gags at the thought of Tony even laying his eyes upon them. Dave tries to recover the situation as he apologizes for Tony, acting almost as if he was the good cop of the situation, but Sydney has no doubt they’re very much alike. 

“So, listen, Glenn-“ Dave starts once again, and he had clearly picked the man out as the weak link, probably realizing if he pressed hard enough the younger man might slip up. He probably would, honestly, he has a feeling Glenn doesn’t do well under pressure. 

“We’ve said enough.” Rick cuts him off, before Dave can pry any further. 

Dave doesn’t take that for an answer, either, “Well hang on a second. This farm— it sounds pretty sweet. Don’t it sound sweet, Tony?” 

“Oh yeah, real sweet.”

“How about a little southern hospitality?” Tony had finished his business, a rifle handling loosely over his shoulder by a strap, as Dave continues to talk. “We got some buddies back at camp, been having a real hard time. I don’t see why you can’t make room for a few more. We can pool our resources, our manpower.” 

“Look, I’m sorry, that’s not an option.” Rick answers, which Sydney had expected him to do, and he’s really glad he’s not in the other’s position right now.

More silence. 

“Doesn’t sound like it’d be a problem.” Dave continues to try, to no avail. 

“I’m sorry, we can’t. We can’t afford to take in any more.” Hershel tries to get through to the other two, but Sydney has a feeling it won’t work. 

Dave chuckles, scratching at his eyebrow, “You guys are something else. I thought— I thought we were friends.” He muses, “We got people we gotta look out for too.” 

“We don’t know anything about you.” Rick is clearly becoming fed up with this encounter as well, despite his tries to hide it. Nobody wants to be where they are right now, maybe except for Dave, who seems to enjoy this back and forth with Rick. Sydney is the only one out of the four of them that really knows what Dave is capable of. 

“No, that’s true. You don’t know anything about us. You don’t know what we’ve had to go through out there, the things we’ve had to do.” What? Murder innocent people and steal there things? Sydney almost opens his mouth to say it, it’s on the tip of his tongue, but he knows it won’t do anything but cause trouble so he forces himself to shut up. Things are already going pretty terrible right now, no need to inevitably make it worse. “I bet you’ve had to do some of those same things yourself. Am I right?” Dave cocks his head, staring at Rick as the other stared back. “Cause ain’t nobody’s hands clean in what’s left of this world. We’re all the same. So come on, let’s take a nice friendly hayride to this farm and we’ll get to know each other.” The unnerving smile is back. 

Rick looks down at the empty glass in his hand, “That’s not gonna happen.” 

“Rick-“ The other sighs. 

“This is bullshit!” Tony bursts out, clearly sick of listening to his friend and Rick fight over the idea of letting them come to the farm with them. 

“Calm down.” Rick says forcefully. 

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” The heavier man hisses, “Don't ever tell me to calm down! I’ll shoot you four assholes in the head and take your damn farm!” Tony threatens, which prompts Rick to step into action and get into the man’s face.

Oh god, is all Sydney thinks. 

Dave inserts himself into the situation as well, standing from his seat, “Woah woah whoah, relax. Take it easy. Nobody’s killing anybody.” He pats Rick on the shoulder as he moves over to where Sydney is, lifting himself over the bar and to the other side, “Nobody’s shooting anybody. Right, Rick?”

Sydney is even more aware of his gun a few feet away from him, and how close Dave had quickly become to him. It doesn’t go unnoticed by anybody as Tony’s hand grips at the hidden gun tucked away in his pants. “Look.” Dave pulls his own gun from his pants, placing it on top of the dusty bar, hands slightly raised as he does it. “We’re just a few friends having a drink, that’s all.” Dave reaches down below the bar, “Now where’s the good stuff.” Of course, the man leaning behind the counter sits right with nobody and Sydney narrows in on the hand that now rests on the holstered gun Rick had, ready to pull out at any second. 

Dave notices as well, popping back up with a bottle of liquor, “Hey, look at that.” He laughs, and begins to pour himself a drink. “We can’t stay out there, you have to know that. You know what it’s like.”

“I do.” Rick agrees, “But the farm is too crowded as is. I’m sorry, you’ll have to keep looking.”

“Keep looking.” Dave repeats, rocking on his heels, a smirk forming on his lips. It seems he finally becomes fully aware of Sydney beside him, and unfortunately turns to face him. 

Sydney feels like his throat just closed over. “You know, you really, really, look familiar.” Dave takes a step forward, towering slightly over the other brunette, and he’s so close that Sydney can smell the whiskey that he had been drinking before. His hands are shaking, Sydney can feel them, and he really wants them to stop but they won’t listen to him. “I- I don’t know you, really.” Sydney tries to assure the other man and he can feel everyone else in the room burning holes into the both of them. 

They both look at Sydney's gun at the same time, and terror fills his entire body as he realizes a second too late what Dave was planning to do. They both grab at the gun at the same time, and Sydney doesn’t fully understand what happens as Dave’s brain explodes onto him and the wall behind them, blood spraying him in the face as the body slumps to the ground. Three additional bullets leave Rick’s gun into the body of Tony, as Sydney stands there in shock at what just happened. He swallows to hold back the vomit, but he’s not sure he’d have anything to throw up in the first place. His hands shake, lifting his shirt up in an attempt to wipe the blood from his face, but he’s not entirely sure he’s successful at all. 

Sydney stares at the body of Dave on the ground, and he finds himself not feeling sorry at all as he steps over the body and grabs both his own gun and Dave’s. 

This was some sick and twisted karma. 

Chapter Text

It’s silent for a couple minutes, nobody says anything, but it seems that maybe nobody knows what to say. Sydney can feel the dried blood setting on his face, and he really just wants to leave and go back to the farm now. Thankfully his hands had stopped shaking so much, a little tremor only remaining. It’s not like he wasn’t used to the apocalypse, he wasn’t weak, but then again he’d never seen someone get shot a foot away from him before. The closest he’d been to a walker before he ended up at the farm was his uncle, and after that he preferred to just hide. He was a hider. Clearly he was not going to continue being that person if he stays with these people, who seemed to just attract danger everywhere they went. 

He grabs a shot glass, rubbing the dust out, and ignores the look he gets from everyone as he fills the glass and kicks it back. It burns as it goes down his throat, but he really doesn’t care at the moment, putting the glass where he found it and moving across to the otherwise of the bar. The farther away from the bodies, the better. 

“How did he know you?” Rick broke the silence, staring at Sydney, and Sydney knew there was no point in lying. 

He cleared his throat, pointing in the direction of Dave slightly, “He’s the one that robbed me. He was with a couple others, but I think it was just a small portion of their group.” Sydney had tucked Dave’s gun into the waistband of his pants, after checking to make sure that the safety was on, feeling uneasy at the sight of it not being on when he had first picked it up. If Rick hadn’t reacted so quickly, he’s not sure what would have happened. “Can we please leave now?” Sydney added, looking over at the three other men. 

Rick had also grabbed Tony’s gun, slipping the bullets into his pocket, “Yeah. Let’s head back.” He agreed. 

The sun had finally set, and the sky was almost completely dark, and they had already been out for way too long. It was the worst time to be out, and Sydney knew that, when it was dark you couldn’t see anything. Couldn’t see if anything was around. 

They had all begun to make their way towards the entrance, when bright lights shone inside the bar, lighting up the inside. The sound of tires on gravel makes Sydney’s blood run cold as Rick hisses, “Car, car. Get down.” And everyone immediately takes position, crouching down and out of the line of fire from the door. Sydney wanted to curse everybody and everything that this day just didn’t seem to end, what else was this evening going to throw at them? 

The vehicle pulled up, slowly to a stop just outside the bar, and Sydney could feel the anxiety feeding away at his insides. The engine stops. Across from him, Sydney can see the utter terror in Glenn’s eyes and he knows that they’re more alike than they know. 

“Dave? Tony? You sure they said over here?” The muffled voice of a man called out, and oh of course, this was definitely getting worse. 

“Yeah, I’m sure.” 

“I’m telling you, man, I heard shots.” 

“I heard roamers, two streets over. Might be more around here.” 

“We gotta get out of here.” 

“Dave! Tony!” The voices were getting increasingly closer, and Sydney clutched the gun in his hand, trying to steady his breathing. 

“Man, shut the hell up, you tryna attract more of them things? Just stick close. We’re gonna find ‘em.” 

The voices were right outside the door, and Sydney looked up at the door, to see the outline of a man on the other side with a gun. Oh fuck. He was totally going to come in here, what were they gonna do? There was more than one, were they going to shoot them? Sydney looked at Rick, as if the man could give him an answer with his eyes. 

“Dude, he said stay close.” The outline disappeared from the door, moving off to the side near the window. 

For a couple minutes, nobody moved, unsure if the men outside had moved on yet or not. God, please have moved on. Next time Glenn asks him to go somewhere with him, he’s not going, he’s staying right on the farm and he’ll do laundry or something. God, whose he kidding, of course he’s going to go, and keep getting in these same stupid situations. He’s not sure he’s capable of saying no to Glenn anyways. 

Rick had begun to move, slowly standing up, the floorboards creaking under his weight and movement as he pulled back the curtain to peer outside. He stepped back, returning to his crouching position and moving towards the other three men. 

“Why won’t they leave?” Glenn whispered, but it was said urgently. 

“Would you?” Hershel replies, his voice just as quiet as the others. 

Rick looks between them, “We can’t sit here any longer.” 

“Why not? They have to leave eventually!” Sydney hissed out, more terrified at the thought of leaving than actually just waiting to see if they leave. 

“Because eventually, they’ll come in here. Let’s out head the back and make a run to the car.”

Sydney thinks of his time in the library, and he glances over to where Dave’s body was, remembering how it felt when the bullet had ripped through his body. He swallowed, trying to get it into his head to just trust Rick and ignore his gut for once. 

Just as they went to move, gun fire cut into the air, and everyone returned to their previous positions in a panic. It didn’t appear to be at them, but Sydney couldn’t even feel a little relief in that. 

“What happened?” The men were just outside again, probably just a couple yards from the main entrance where they were held up. 

“Roamers, I nailed ‘em.”

“They disappeared but their cars still there.” 

Oh Christ. 

“I cleared those buildings. You guys got this one yet?” 

Oh Christ. 

“No.”

“We’re looking for Dave and Tony and no one checks the damn bar?”

Sydney hears Rick cock his gun, as the footsteps get closer, and closer, and closer. The door clicks open, and Sydney, without even thinking, shoves his body against the door as hard as he can until the door shuts against his weight. “What the hell?” The voice on the other side of the door says, “Someone pushed it shut. There’s someone in there.” 

“Yo, is someone in there? If someone’s in there, we don’t want no trouble?” Sydney, just as he had with Dave, finds that really hard to believe. “We’re just looking for their friends.” Sydney holds himself, his back against the door, glancing at Rick. 

“What do we do?” One of the voices says, quieter, as if the people inside couldn’t hear them, “Bum rush the door?” Please don’t. 

“No, we don’t know how many are in there. Just relax.” How many is too many? Sydney briefly wonders this. 

“We don’t want any trouble!” The voice gets louder, speaking to them now. “We’re just looking for our friends.” Sydney glances over at Tony’s dead body, slumped against the wall and blood pooling around his body and Dave, whose legs were just visible on the other side of the bar. They were not getting out of this with a simple explanation. “This place is crawling with corpses, if you can help us not get killed, I’d appreciate it.” Rick pushes a hand against his head, clearly trying to think of some way to get out this. Sydney is glad he’s not the one who has to try and think of a plan. 

“You’re bugging. I’m telling you nobody’s in there.” More quieter this time, “Someone guard the door. If they’re in there, they might know where Dave and Tony are.” Unfortunately. 

Rick appeared to be having some sort of internal battle, going back and forth on what he should do. As long as he doesn’t- “They drew on us!” Sydney’s face falls, staring at Rick with some sort of, ‘what the fuck?’ He doesn’t think that a simple, yeah they pulled their gun on us, is going to stop these guys from trying to mow them down. All they will care about is that Rick had shot their men, that’s it. 

“Dave and Tony in there?” Here we go. 

“No.” Rick calls back, and from here, Sydney can see the sweat dripping down his face, a combination from the stress and the heat. 

“They alive?” 

Rick pauses, unsure, “No.” 

“They killed Dave and Tony.” One of the voices says, shock evident in his voice. 

“Let’s just get out of here.” Sydney thought that sounded like a great idea. 

“No, I’m not leaving. I’m not telling Jane. I’m not gonna go back and tell them that Dave and Tony got shot by some assholes in a bar.” Not such a great idea. 

“Your friends drew on us!” Rick yelled back, and Sydney didn’t know why he was still trying to defend them, as if it would make a difference what they said or didn’t say. “They gave us no choice!” Rick continued, “I’m sure we’ve all lost enough people, done things we wish we didn’t have to, but it’s like that now, you know that! So let’s just chalk this up to what it was— wrong place, wrong ti-“ 

The glass in the door above Sydney explodes, scattering pieces on him and the floor as he rushes to cover his face. More bullets whiz through the now exposed window, as Rick stands up and starts to shoot back. “Get out of here! Go!” Rick yells, as more glass shatters, and Sydney scrambles to get off the ground and run after Hershel and Glenn, who had already started retreating. The bullets don’t stop, and the three of them dive for cover as they get too close for comfort, Sydney diving behind a nearby wall as a bullet lodges itself right next to him. Next to him, Hershel slides Glenn the shotgun that at some point he had gained possession of, and Sydney clutches his own weapon in his hands. The bullets cease, but he isn’t sure how long it’ll stay like that. 

Rick decides, this is the time to barter for peace, “Hey! We all know this is not gonna end well!” The sheriff has dumped the shells from his gun onto the ground, struggling to quickly reload it as quick as possible, “There’s nothing in it for any of us!  You guys just— just back off, no one else gets hurt!” 

From behind them, where Sydney sees the ‘exit’ sign, they hear bottles rattling. The grip on his gun tightens, clicking the safety off his gun. Next to him, Glenn gets up, running off towards the back room to presumably check what the noise had been. 

Silence. 

It goes on like that for about thirty seconds, before the loud blast of a shotgun cuts through the air, and Sydney almost jumps out of his skin. “Shit, Glenn!?” He calls out in a panic, standing up from the spot that he had been cowering in, moving past Hershel and closer to where Glenn had disappeared too.

“I—I’m alright. I’m alright.” Glenn’s voice fills into the room, and Sydney feels the relief momentarily filter into his body. 

Rick rushes over to him and Hershel, gun pointed at the floor, “I’ll stay back and home them here. You guys go and cover Glenn. See if you can make it to your car,” it’s directed at Hershel, and Sydney and almost forgot they had two cars with them, “Tell Glenn to try and pull it up back, and we’ll make a run for it.” 

Sydney and Hershel both nod in agreement, and the younger man sucks in his breath as they move towards the back room. “You good?” Sydney asks the other, keeping his voice as quiet as he can while still being heard. 

“I’m good.” 

They enter the backroom, and Sydney immediately spots Glenn with his weapon trained on the door on the opposite side of the room. The stairs creak as they make their way down, and just as they get about a foot behind Glenn, the other man whips around with his shotgun at the ready. 

“Jesus, it’s just us-“ Sydney says immediately, Hershel pushing the top of the gun away from them. 

Glenn lets out a breath, shaking his head, “Sorry.” 

“Rick wants you to try for the car.” Sydney explained, but he can tell immediately that Glenn would probably rather do anything else in the world. 

“Try?!” Glenn retorts. 

“You got this.” Hershel offers up, “Sydney and I will cover you.” 

“That’s a great plan.” Glenn says, clearly sarcastically, before he moves over to the door, and Sydney can now see what the gunshot had been from, as the shattered window comes into view. Hershel moves to the otherwise of the door, gun at the ready, and Sydney does the same, moving off to the side a little as Glenn reluctantly pushes open the door, swinging to the outside and landing against the building. Everyone is moving at a snail's pace, Glenn taking the lead as they step into the outdoors, with the moon being the only thing casting light down onto them. How long had they been gone by now? Was the group getting worried? 

As Glenn takes another step, a gunshot goes off, narrowly missing him and Sydney looks towards the source. He doesn’t even think as he points and shoots, the gun slightly recoiling in his hand as the bullet hits it’s target, knocking the strange man to the ground. 

Sydney isn’t even sure where he hit him, but the man was still breathing, beginning to groan and cry on the ground. Rick suddenly rushed in behind them, clearly having heard the ruckus, “What happened?” 

Sydney stares straight ahead, looking at the man on the ground. He hasn’t shot a gun in many years, and it was at targets in a shooting range, not at somebody clearly alive and moving. 

“He fired, I think he might’ve hit Glenn. He’s behind the dumpster.” Hershel informed Rick, and Sydney promptly to whip around to where Glenn had previously been. He hadn’t thought the bullet had hit him, but now he’s not too sure. “Oh fuck.” Sydney says to himself, before he hops off the steps, looking in both directions before moving forward. He raises his gun slightly, “Glenn? Glenn!” He half whispers, half yells, looking back at Hershel and Rick, who were now helping to watch both ways in case someone else decided to sneak up on them. “Are you hit? Come on, answer me, man.” Sydney pleads, and for a second, he’s really, really scared that Glenn is dead. 

“No, no.” The cracked voice of Glenn says, and Sydney is relieved as the other man comes into view, who is now clutching his gun and sitting with his back against the dumpster. It’s clear that he’s panicking, his breath ragged as his eyes dart all around. 

Sydney crouches down next to him, looking over into the street, trying to see if anyone else was planning to surprise him. He turns his attention back to Glenn, placing a hand on his shoulder, “Hey, it's okay. You’re okay, the cars right there. We’re so close, okay?” He says, trying his best to comfort the other while also internally comforting himself. How do you comfort someone who is panicking when you yourself are panicking? Despite this, his words seem to do the trick as Glenn inhaled and exhaled, “Okay.” 

“Okay, good. We’re good.” At this point, Sydney is also trying to convince himself, “Let’s go.” He peers around the edge, before attempting to make his exit. Of course, it isn’t as easy as that, as immediately bullets ping off the side of the dumpster and he bumps against Glenn in an attempt to get back behind the dumpster and into cover. Peering once again, he notices a man on top of the building across from them, and he figures it must have been the one who was just shooting at them. Out of nowhere, a car pulls up, “Let’s get out of here! Come on, roamers are all over” The man in the car shouts. 

Oh thank the lord, are they finally leaving? 

“What about Sean?” The man on the rooftop yells back in return. 

“They shot him. We gotta go, come on!” 

“We’re leaving?” 

“Just jump!” 

Sydney and Glenn both watch as the man jumps off the roof, attempting to land alongside the other roof, but he slips out of view and a few short seconds later the screaming begins. “He didn’t make it.” Glenn says, as if it wasn’t obvious enough, and Sydney can hear the man pleading for help as the man inside the vehicle yells an apology before he drives off. 

What the hell? 

Sydney had noticed, but Rick had come up behind them, and with a short, “Get Hershel.” Before he takes off across the street, towards the man who was still screaming bloody murder. 

“Hershel, come on!” Glenn calls out for the older man, and it’s then that they realize that the walkers are rapidly approaching them. Sydney can hear the man he shot crying for help, until it turns into screams of pain, and it isn’t hard to guess what’s happened to him. “Hershel! Let’s go!” Glenn says again, with more urgency, before the older man finally turns away from the dying man and comes to join them. 

“The gunfire must’ve attracted the walkers.” Hershel tells them as they begin to actually move this time, not having to worry about getting shot at this time. No, they just had to worry about the very hungry dead people now. “Where’s Rick?” Hershel asks. 

“He, uh, he ran across-“ Sydney points in the direction that Rick had taken off in, “We have to go get him-“ 

They run across the street, coming around the corner, and it’s now that Sydney gets a good look at the man who had botched his jump from roof to roof. Or should he say, boy. He would have to guess that the kid couldn’t be older than 18, dark coloured hair stuck to his forehead and a pleading look etched into his boyish features. Sydney notices the problem, the spike of the fence penetrating through the boy's leg, almost right where the knee was. 

“Rick, we have to go.” Hershel informs him, just as the boy breaks into another round of pleas, “No, please, no, don’t leave me!”

“I’m sorry, son, we have to go.” 

“Please, no, don’t do this-“ The boy cries.

Sydney looks at Hershel in disbelief. “We can’t leave him! He’ll die!” 

“He’s right.” Rick says, almost sounding angry with himself for his own moral compass. 

“He was just shooting at us!” Glenn yells at them both, gesturing wildly to the boy impaled on the fence, as if the idea of saving him was out of this world, “This place is crawling with walkers!” 

“He’s a kid, look at him! You want to leave him here for the walkers?” Sydney retaliates. 

“Please, please help me!”

Rick turns towards the unnamed boy, “Shut up! Just, shut up!” He hisses. 

Hershel has already begun to expect the wound, “The fence went clean through. There’s no way we can get the leg off in one piece.” 

To prove this point further,  Rick shakes the fence aggressively and to no one’s surprise, it doesn’t budge. The boy cries out at the pain inflicted by the jostling, which caused Rick to just yell at him to shut up again. Honestly, Sydney would like to see Rick get a spike through the knee and not make any noise at all. “Shut up! Or I’ll shoot you!” Rick points his gun at the boy for emphasis. 

“That may be the answer.” Hershel replies dreadfully, “We’re not gonna get that leg off without tearing the muscle to shreds. He certainly can’t run, he may bleed out.” 

“We can’t just leave him.” Sydney insists, stepping closer to the boy, who seemed to be freaking out just as much as the rest of them. “Please try and be quiet, kid.” He knows it’s useless, knowing nothing in the world at this moment could possibly get his kid to calm down and forget the blinding pain in his leg. 

“‘Maybe we should just put him down, I don’t want to do anymore killing but this is cruel.” Hershel reasons. 

Sydney stares down at the leg, just as Glenn says, “Can’t we just take the leg off?” 

There is a brief pause, and the kid looks horrified at the idea, before Rick cuts in, “We still have that hatchet in the car?” 

“No, no, please, don’t cut my leg off-“ The kid continues to plead with them. 

Rick pulls out a knife, releasing the blade, “Will  this cut through the bone?” 

Sydney thinks he’s going to be sick, again. 

Hershel has already begun to unbutton his shirt, to leave himself in just a plain t-shirt, “I’ll have to sever the ligaments below the kneecap, cut above the tibia. He’s going to lose his lower leg,” The kid continued to plead behind Hershel to no avail, “When we get clear of here, we're gonna have to find some tinder to cauterize the wound so he doesn’t bleed out.” Hershel rolls up his shirt, beginning to tie it around the boy's leg, and Sydney assumes that’s what is going to act as the tourniquet when they begin to saw into his leg. 

Sydney moves around the over side of the fence, pushing a hand down on the boy’s chest to keep him in place. “I’m so sorry.” He tells the other, regretfully. 

“Guys, walkers!” Glenn calls out, and a few seconds later Sydney hears his shotgun go off. 

The boy screams as Hershel tightens the shirt around the wound, and Sydney regretfully clamps a hand over his mouth to shut him up. 

The shotgun blasts don’t seem to stop, and Sydney can hear the faint sound of walkers groaning. “Shit, they’re everywhere.” Rick says from beside him, and Sydney glances up just in time to see walkers approaching them from the other direction and Rick is forced to step away and try and eliminate some of them. The walkers don’t appear to be slowing down, and Sydney tries his best to just hold his hand down forcefully against the boy's mouth, but he thinks that by now the damage is already down. With his free hand, he gets a couple shots off, towards the direction that Rick was shooting and he watches as a couple walkers hit the ground but it doesn’t even seem to put a dent into the crowd that was quickly forming. 

“Guys, we need to go! I’m almost out of ammo, we don’t have much time! We need to go!” Glenn sounds desperate now, screaming for them to just leave already, as the walkers groans get closer. Sydney glances over, Hershel hovering over the leg with his knife, but seemed to be hesitating. 

“I can’t hold ‘em off, Hershel, do it now!” Rick yells, “Come on, Hershel!”  

“There is no time!” Hershel responds with the same level of yelling. 

Sydney releases his hold of the other, and he stares at Glenn and Hershel who were preparing to take off. “No, please! Don’t leave me!” Sydney cringes at the yelling, and he looks at Rick, who seems to meet his eyes just at the same time. A second before he does it, Sydney realizes what Rick is going to do. 

Rick grabs at the leg with both hands, pulling it harshly off the spike. 

They had jumped in the car as fast as they could, Glenn and Sydney having to practically carry the boy to the car, sitting him beside them in the backseat. Sydney had clipped his and his own seatbelt in, because even in the apocalypse, it didn’t stop them from getting in a car accident. The car didn’t slow to a regular speed until they had been cleared from the town, and as he looked out the back window he could see the distant figures of the walkers flooding the town. They had just made it out. Hershel’s shirt was trashed, a once white button up permanent red, as Sydney had tied it tightly around the wound. The boy was moaning in pain the whole time they drove, but not once did he pass out, and Sydney thought that maybe that was a good thing. 

Of course, he didn’t feel any better when Rick made him fit a blindfold over the boys eyes and tie his wrists together, as if he was going to be going anywhere. They had a bit of a drive before they reached the farm. 

Sydney glances at Glenn, who was just staring out the window with a distant look in his face, shotgun still clutched between his fingers. Too close of a call for the other. He looked back at their now captive, whose head was rolled back against the seat, before he decided to say something, “Hey, what’s your name? Can you tell me that?” He lightly touched the others arm, just so the boy would know that he was being talked to. 

He seemed to jump a bit at the touch, head moving straight up, and he seemed to be trying to catch his breath and maybe bear through the pain, “Uh, it’s, my name is- my name is Randall. Culver.” He managed to get out. 

Sydney tried to pretend he couldn’t feel Rick’s eyes on him through the rear view mirror, “My makes Sydney, we’re going to take you back and get your leg fixed up, okay? We won’t hurt you.” He felt like he was making a promise for something he couldn’t keep, and his mind flashed to Shane, reckless and dangerous and seemingly always doing the opposite of what everyone wanted. He would not let Shane do anything to this boy, they didn’t almost risk their lives just to throw him to the wolves. Shane, possibly being the wolves. 

The blood had already begun seeping into the seat below Randall’s leg, but no one seemed to be paying attention to it at the moment. Sydney got a little, “Okay.” In response to what he said, and he’d take it. 

“How old are you, Randall?” He decided to press, his eyes running over the others boyish face, knowing he couldn’t be much older than Beth or Jimmy. What the hell was he doing with a group like that? With people like Dave and Tony? 

Randall seemed almost hesitant to answer, but Sydney also had no idea how much pain the boy was trying to push through, so he gave him the benefit of the doubt. “Sixteen.” He bit out. 

Sydney looked over at Glenn, who had apparently had the same reaction, a look of shock and surprise on his face at the answer. Sixteen. He was basically a kid, in their book. He would’ve still been in high school, the same age as Beth and Jimmy. A sixteen year old with a rifle had shot at them, and he probably had only been doing what he had been told to. He has a feeling that some people won’t feel the same way, but that didn’t matter right now. 

“Christ.” Glenn muttered next to him, returning his gaze to the window. 

Sydney let out a breath, leaning his head back against the seat, now feeling the adrenaline fade off. He was tired. And hungry. He couldn’t sleep just yet, but as he watched the sun begin to peak into existence, he knew they weren’t far from home. 

Sydney jolted as he felt a hand on his shoulder, Glenn being the source, and maybe he had fallen asleep for like five minutes. Nobody died when he did though, so all is good. The sun was up now, reminding how long they had actually been gone, but he was relieved when he finally saw the farm come into view. He quickly looked at Randall, who he could tell was very clearly still breathing and he let out a sigh of relief. Honestly, he’d been really scared the boy would actually bleed out before they would make it back, like Hershel had predicted. But he hung on. 

“Wonder how we’ll explain this one.” Sydney said nervously, as a few familiar faces came into view, more appearing on the porch of the step as they presumably heard the car pulling up. Nobody said anything in response, but he figures they feel the same way. As the car rolls to a stop, he unbuckles his seatbelt, “Randall, don’t move, okay? I’ll be right back.” He told the only one who hadn’t begun to move from the car, obviously, and he got a nod in response. 

He barely had time to register when his feet hit the ground, when a little girl came rushing at him and wrapping her arms around his abdomen. 

Sophia. 

“Hey, kid. What’s up?” He asked, patting her softly on the head as he looked around. Glenn was busy being embraced by Maggie, who looked especially relieved to see him, and Rick had reunited with his wife and Carl. Sydney squinted slightly at the cuts and bruises that peppered Lori’s face, and he briefly wondered what happened. Guess he’d find out eventually. 

“I missed you.” Sophia said, “I didn’t know if you were coming back.” 

“Hey, it’s all good. I did, which is what matters.” He answers, wrapping his arms around her, wondering at what point he had taken a twelve year old under his wing. 

Beggars can’t be choosers. 

“Who the hell is that?” T-Dog broke up the little reunion, pointing to the blindfolded Randall in the back of Hershel’s car. 

“That’s Randall.” Glenn said, as if it was obvious. 

Sydney was exhausted, it was the afternoon but all he wanted to do was crawl into his tent and pass out. He could hardly believe what had happened, or what was happening. He’d never been in a gunfight before, he’d never done anything like this before. It felt like a dream. What the hell had he gotten himself into with this group? Anyone could see the tenseness that was held inside this group, ready to just explode, he felt like he was sitting on a ticking time bomb that didn’t have a timer. God, he needed a nap. 

Almost everyone was gathered in the dining room, Sydney having been lucky enough to grab a chair, a hand resting on his chin as he attempted to keep himself awake. It was silent, nothing around to keep him awake, his eyes shutting for a few seconds before he would manage to catch himself and open them again. Sophia and Carl weren’t around, their parents probably not wanting them to hear the adults talk, and Maggie and Jimmy were off to check on Beth and make sure she was okay. Sydney still had to check in on her. Everyone was waiting for Hershel to return, waiting to hear news of the surgery that Randall was currently undergoing. He looked around, scanning everyone’s faces, seeing just how tense everyone looked. Shane looked like he was ready to pop off on someone, but that didn’t surprise Sydney in the least. 

A couple moments later, Hershel walked into the room, a cloth in his hands, “I repaired his calf muscle as best I can, but he'll probably have nerve damage. Won't be on his feet for at least a week.” Sydney sat up straighter, suddenly very much awake and looking over at Rick. 

“When he is, we give him a canteen, take him out to the main road, send him on his way.” Rick said, hands resting on his hips. 

Sydney was preparing to say something, before Andrea beat him to the punch, “Isn't that the same as leaving him for the walkers?”

Rick scrubs at his face, “He'll have a fighting chance.” 

“Wait, what? Hold on, he’s sixteen!” Sydney blurts out, looking around the room at everyone else, seeing if anyone felt the same. “And even a week from now, he’ll still be injured.” He argued. 

“We can’t risk having him here.” Rick shot back, and Sydney wondered what an injured teen with no weapons could realistically do to them. 

Shane didn’t seem to like this idea at all, shaking his head, as if he thought the idea was absurd, “Just gonna let him go? He knows where we are.” 

The hell? Did Shane want them to keep him as a prisoner? 

“He was blindfolded the whole way here. He's not a threat.” Rick explained, as Sydney remembered the cloth that he had fitted around the teenagers head. If they dropped him off somewhere, he wouldn’t know where he was or how to get back here. 

Shane laughed, but it was anything but funny, “Not a threat. How many of them were there? You killed three of their men, you took one of them hostage, but they just ain't gonna come looking?” 

Three men. 

He thought back to the man he shot, and who he soon after heard get torn apart by walkers, screaming in pain. Sydney pressed his hands against his eyes, having barely let it set in that he had shot and killed a man, and he hadn’t even stopped to question what he was doing. He just shot. He thinks the guy's name might’ve been Sean. Tony and Dave were bad guys, but how did he know that Sean was bad? It could’ve easily been Randal he had shot, and the teenager didn’t seem like the two that had been shot and killed by Rick in the bar. 

“They left him for dead. No one is looking.” Rick defended, and Sydney had to agree with that, as he remembered how the people in the car had driven off and left Randall behind. Why would they be looking for him if as far as they knew he had probably been eaten by walkers after his slip off the roof? 

T-Dog seemed to take this moment to join the conversation, “We should still post a guard.”

Hershel shook his head, “He's out cold right now, will be for hours.” 

Shane scoffed, turning to leave, clearly fed up with this conversation, “You know what? I'm gonna go get him some flowers and candy. Look at this,folks— we back in fantasyland!” He chuckled. 

What the hell was wrong with this guy? 

“You know, we haven't even dealt with what you did at my barn yet. Let me make this perfectly clear, once and for all—this is my farm. Now, I wanted you gone. Rick talked me out of it, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. So do us both a favor— keep your mouth shut.” Hershel told the bald man harshly, and Shane just seemed to stare back at him for a moment, as if trying to intimidate him. Obviously, it doesn’t work, and Shane just shakes his head again and stomps off and out of the house. 

Clearly that was the end of the conversation. 

Everyone seemed to filter out after that, and Sydney caught Daryl, who had been on the side of the room during the conversation, on his way out. He quickly got up from the table, following after the man, “Daryl! Hey, Daryl, wait up.” He called out to the other, jogging down the steps of the farmhouse. The other brunette didn’t stop for a couple steps, before he turned around abruptly to look at Sydney, “Whatddya’ want?” 

Seemed that injured Daryl was just the same as regular Daryl. 

Sydney pulled out the gun that Rick had previously gifted to him, holding it out to the other, handle first. “I think this is yours? I saw Rick get it from you, so.” He shrugged. 

Daryl squinted at him, and he thinks that maybe the other does it without realizing, “Don’t got your own gun?” 

“Oh, well, I didn’t before.” He pulled out the second gun he possessed, showing it to Daryl, “I got this from Dave.” 

Daryl took the first gun from Sydney, inspecting it for a quick second before he tucked it into his waistband. “Dave one of the men from the bar?” He asked briskly. 

“Yeah. Yeah he was. Also the guy who robbed me before I got here.” Sydney tucked his own gun away, trying not to think too hard of who had met their ends at the barrel of this gun. Well, he knew one of them. 

“Karma’s a bitch.” Is all Daryl has to say, before he turns on his heel and walks away from Sydney. 

Sydney watched him go, staring at his back as he did, and he didn't tear his eyes away until Daryl had returned to his own little camp. What the hell was that guy's story? He found himself almost interested, despite how much of an asshole the guy came off as, he wondered how he had ended up with a group like this. 

He has a feeling a friendship with Daryl wasn’t something just anyone got. 

Chapter Text

The next week passes by as a blur for Sydney, because after a couple days of excitement, it’s back to being boring— as much as it can for an apocalypse anyways. Somedays, he manages to forget that there even is an apocalypse, when he just spends the day with Sophia from sunrise to sunset and he worries about absolutely nothing. He plays whatever kind of games she can come up with, and occasionally Carl would join them if Rick and Lori allowed him too. It’s easy to forget when you’re hanging with two kids, who aren’t worrying too much about the outside world as it is. Carl doesn’t join them as much though, Lori and Rick preferring the kid to stay closer to them, probably worrying over his safety. 

Sometimes Sydney asks Sophia if her mom minds that they hang out together, because Sydney doesn’t want to step on anyone’s toes (he was an adult hanging out with a twelve year old, but he thinks the circumstances are different than normal), but Sophia assures him that her mom didn’t care. Sydney thought it was a little strange, seeing as the girl had been previously missing, but maybe Carol just thought Sydney was capable enough to take care of her daughter. 

He spends some time talking with Glenn and Maggie, but separately, because the two seem to be having some sort of weird stalemate at this point. He’s not sure what happened, because he doesn’t feel like asking either of them when they’re neck deep in a nice conversation. Though, he thinks they might’ve figured at least something out because he noticed the two of them talking early today. 

There hasn’t been much change in Beth, unfortunately. She lays in bed all day, some of the women taking turns to bring her food and try to get her out of bed. Sydney sits with her sometimes, but he doesn’t say anything usually, just sits and looks out the window for a little. Beth doesn’t seem to like having a babysitter, but he thinks she appreciates his silence as he looks over her. It’s like a rotation, looking after Beth and Randall, but one is clearly more comfortable physically at the moment then the other. Sydney knows they’re all anxious to get him out of the house and off the farm, and he’s just glad that Rick had come to the agreement to drop him off somewhere miles away so he couldn’t come back. Sydney is worried for the kid, but it’s better than him being stuck as a prisoner. 

He’s just not sure if the kid could make it himself though. 

Sydney stepped into the room, and it wasn’t filled with light like the rest of the house, the blinds drawn shut since the moment Randall had been placed in the bedroom. Of course, the kid is right where they had left him, laying on the bed and one of his hands tied to the bed. Sydney didn’t understand why, seeing as he’s not sure the kid could even walk on his own properly just yet. He had surgery just yesterday, but Shane is hellbent on the idea that the kid will slit their throats in their sleep. 

The sound of the door clicking shut alerted Randall, who opened his eyes, clearly having been trying to rest but unable to fall asleep. Hershel had given him something for the pain, but it’s clear that they didn’t really want to be giving them to him too much. 

“Hey, it’s me, Sydney. If you remember me from yesterday.” He takes a seat in the wooden chair that was placed next to the bed. 

Randall looked around the room, and Sydney thinks that the kid has been in and out of it since they brought him here yesterday. “Oh, um, yeah, I do. You sat next to me in the car.” He winced as he moved slightly, looking down at the bandages wrapped around his leg. 

“Yeah, that’s me. And you’re Randall, sixteen.” The brunette relayed back to what the other had told him yesterday, folding his hands in his lap. 

Randall nods in agreement. 

“Cool. I just need to ask this, Randall,” Sydney starts, leaning forward slightly, “What are you doing with a group like that? No offense, but with people like Dave and Tony. You’re just a kid.” 

The other looked someone wary to answer, maybe a little scared, but Sydney couldn’t blame him. Maybe it felt like he was being interrogated, or he hadn’t had time to even cope with what had happened in the past twenty four hours. Leg through a spike, abandoned by your group, saved by strangers who were now holding you hostage. 

“Are you guys going to kill me?” Sydney’s eyes widened at the question, stunned at the amount of nervousness in Randall’s voice. 

He blinked, “No! Of course not! You’re just a kid. I-“ He thinks back to Shane, who is clearly so willing to put a bullet into the others brain and he winces in memory, “I won’t let anyone do that to you, okay? I know you have no reason to trust me, but I promise.” 

Randall didn’t say anything. 

Sydney took it as his cue to continue, “Listen, the group just wants to wait until you can stand on your two feet. Then they’re going to drive you out of here and drop you off somewhere.” 

It caught the other’s attention, “W-What— I’ve never, I don’t— My sister—“ He started to panic. 

Christ.

“Calm down, hey, it’s okay. Your sister?” Sydney questions. 

Randall sucks in a breath, squeezing his hand into a fist, his free one, clearly trying to control his panic. Better than Sydney could do, probably. “I- my sister was with that group. We’ve been with them about a week into all of this went down. She took care of me, she’s older, twenty. She protected me.” He explained, “We tried to leave them. We saw the type of people they were, we aren’t like that, I swear. The things they did—“ His eyes were distant, as if the memories were coming back to him, regret in his eyes. “We tried to leave.” He reaffirms. 

“What happened?” Sydney asked. 

Randall looks into his eyes, “They threatened her. My sister. They—“ He chokes on his words, and Sydney isn’t so sure he wants to know now, “I had to do what they tell me. I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t—“ He shakes his head. 

Sydney could only imagine, and he could see that Randall was struggling. 

“It’ll be okay, I promise. Just rest, get better, and then you can leave. It’s the only option.” Sydney assures him, patting the others free arm comfortingly, “No one is going to hurt you.”

Sydney hadn’t told anyone what he heard yet, because as far as he knew, they were letting the boy go. 

When he wakes up one morning and Randall is already gone, he feels both worried and relieved. Relieved that the boy was getting away, despite what Shane thought about it, and worried that the kid might not make it that far on his own. It also made him worried that it was Rick and Shane going, more worried about the Shane part, because anything that man did made him uneasy. 

He didn’t realize that he had been pacing around outside, stuck in his own thoughts, until Dale had caught him doing so. The older man raised his eyebrows, “Are you okay?” Out of everyone, Sydney really liked Dale, the man seemed to only want what was best for everyone and he kind of reminded him of his own grandfather who had passed away far before the apocalypse. 

Sydney stopped, turning towards Dale, who was standing near base camp (Sydney’s name for where the campfire was) with his hands on his hips. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine.” He smiled, “Just a little worried about Randall. I know it’s stupid but-“ 

“Because of Shane?” Dale cut him off, and Sydney took that moment to look around, but nobody was in sight. He could see Sophia and Carl in the distance, with Carol, who was supposed to be teaching them some school work of the sorts. Next to them was the RV, where Andrea was standing on top with the rifle, looking carefully into the distance for any sign of walkers. She either wasn’t listening or was too far away to be hearing them. 

“I- A little, I guess.” Sydney confesses, “He just seemed so hell bent on not letting that kid go. So.” 

Dale shakes his head, “I wouldn’t worry. Rick is a man of his word, and he can usually keep Shane in check.” 

Sydney wasn’t sure how much he believed that, seeing as Shane seemed to do whatever he wanted when he wanted. “Did you know Shane before this?” He asked Dale, tilting his head slightly. 

Dale chuckled, “Oh, no. I picked Andrea and her sister up off the side of the road, in my RV, and we met up with this group after that.” He explained. 

“I knew him, before this. Not friends or anything, but I worked at the station in IT. He had hair back then though. I’ve never seen him so, like, angry.”

The older man went to say something, but he stopped short and looked past Sydney and behind him, causing the other to turn around and spot Lori running down towards them from the house. Concern immediately hits him, because he knows that the woman is currently looking after Beth, and he shields the sun from his eyes to look at the other. 

“Have any of you guys seen Hershel or Maggie?” She called out, hurriedly. 

Dale and Sydney both shake their heads. 

Andrea stares down from the RV, “Not sure where Hershel is, but I saw Glenn and Maggie walk by not that long ago.” 

“What’s going on?” Sydney inquires. 

“I had to take a knife from Beth, she stole it from her dinner tray.” Lori shakes her head, before looking at Andrea, “Could you please go find them? I need to get back to the house.” 

The blonde set down the rifle, already making her way down from the RV, “Yeah, of course. Dale, you take over watch?” She called over her shoulder. 

“No problem.” 

Lori had already turned away, and Sydney called out, “Hey, do you need any help?” 

The other barely even paused, “No, no, it’s okay. Andrea’s for it.” And then she was off, disappearing out of sight and back into the house. 

Sydney blinked, trying to process what had just happened, and he decided that he should go in and check on Beth soon anyways. The teenager was suicidal? Of course, he couldn’t pretend to not understand, being so young and having people die around you, not knowing what the new day might bring you is hard. It’s really hard, and after the barn incident, it must’ve been too hard on Beth. He shakes his head, even more worried than he had been before. 

“Why don’t you come up here with me and we can talk?” Dale asked, as he moves over to climb the ladder of the RV, and Sydney just nods and follows after the other. 

As Dale takes a seat in the lawn chair, picking up the rifle that Andrea had left behind, Sydney let’s his legs dangle over the edge of the vehicle and look out into the forest. It was both unnerving and nice that to their back was an entire forest, looking like a walk with how thick the woods were. It would be easy to spot something if it came tumbling out, but it’s hard to see what could be lurking just beyond. 

“Seeing as you worked with Shane and Rick,” a bit of an overstatement, “I’m assuming you know about how Rick was in a coma.” 

“Oh yeah, thought I was dreaming when I first saw him. Pretty lucky if you ask me.” Sydney shakes his head, and he thinks about how devastated everyone at the station was when they heard the news. It wasn’t the same after that.

“Well, Shane showed up with Lori and Carl, Rick didn’t show up until a while later. I’m sure they were under the impression that Rick was dead.” Dale explained, and Sydney felt like he was back in high school, gossiping about others with his best friend. Except Dale wasn’t his best friend and this was an apocalypse, not high school. Sydney thinks back to when Sophia told him that she first thought that Shane was Carl’s dad. Huh. “Shane wasn’t even like this when I first met him, but now I think he’s dangerous. And I can tell you think that too.” Sydney blinked in surprise. 

“I figured it was obvious with his whole show with the walkers in the barn, but clearly everyone else doesn’t seem to think so.” The brunette said warily. 

Suddenly, he remembers when he had been sitting up on the RV with Glenn, and Shane had come barreling through asking where Dale was. And it seemed that Dale had been trying to avoid Shane, even lying to Glenn so the other wouldn’t know where he went too. He wondered what that had been about, but he now assumes that Shane dislikes Dale just as much as Dale dislikes Shane. 

“No, they don’t. I’ve gotten into quite a few arguments with Andrea over it.” The older man sighs, adjusting his hat on his head, “But I do fear for what Shane might do someday. As you know, Lori’s pregnant.” 

Sydney becomes confused for a moment, wondering what that had to do with anything, when a look of understanding came over his face. When he had learned Lori had gone after Rick and them that night, and Shane brought Lori back, he remembers how Shane had looked at me. “Please don’t tell me you’re saying what I think you’re saying—“ This was a disaster. 

Dale just gave him a look. 

Sydney ran his hands through his hair, “Christ. What the hell is wrong with this group.” 

“There’s one more thing, I feel that you should know. It happened before you came here.” Dale started again, and oh god, who else did Shane sleep with? “There was a man named Otis, he’d the man who accidentally shot Carl. Him and Shane went to a nearby school to try and gather supplies for him. Only Shane came back.” He continued, “Shaves his head as soon as he gets back.” 

Sydney feels the horror wash over him, “You think he killed that man?” 

Dale replies without hesitation, “I know he did.” 

A little while later, he let himself into the farmhouse, hoping that he could finally take a moment to talk to Beth. He pauses as he hears angry voices filter in from the kitchen, and he can tell that it’s Andrea and Lori. 

“She needs to make her own decisions. Not to be coddled or yelled at like a child!” Andrea protested. 

“What? You want me to go in there and tie the noose for her?” Lori hissed. 

There was a scoff, presumably from Andrea, “Fine! God ahead. Go right in there, and tell that girl that everything’s gonna be okay, just like it is for you. She’ll get a husband, a son, baby, boyfriend. She just has to look on the bright side.” Snapped the blonde, and Sydney tried to look as inconspicuous as he could as he heard footsteps retreating from the kitchen and towards him. He opened his mouth to say something but Andrea just glared at him and brushed past him and he shut his mouth. Well then. 

He entered the kitchen a few short seconds later, noticing Lori leaning against the counter and clearly trying to collect herself. “Everything okay?” Sydney asks warily, trying to block everything out of his mind that he had just learned from Dale as he spoke to her. 

“Yes, everything is great.” Lori sighed, returning to the sink, and Sydney assumed she had been doing the dishes before she had gotten into the argument with Andrea. 

“Uh, okay.” He replied before he turned on his heel and set off for Beth’s room, or the room she was staying in, assuming that Maggie must be in there with her. He could hear muffled voices from inside the room, but he couldn’t hear what they were saying, so he settled for lightly knocking on the door. The conversation ceased. A second later he heard Maggie’s voice, “Come in.” 

Sydney opened the door, stepping inside, taking note of Beth sitting up in the bed and Maggie in a chair next to her. “Hey. Just wanted to check in, see what’s up.” He looked at Maggie, who seemed exhausted, and he could understand why. Worrying about her father, worrying about her sister, and the apocalypse. “Why don’t you go get something to eat, Maggie? I can keep Beth company. I’ve heard I'm excellent company.” He mused, walking around the room to where Maggie was seated. 

He could feel Beth staring at him. 

“You sure?” Maggie asked, looking between him and her little sister. 

Sydney shooed her out of the chair, “Yes, I’m sure. We’ll be fine.” Once she had stood up, he took her place in the chair, stretching out slightly. 

Maggie shot them both one last glance before she left, leaving the door open behind her. 

There’s a couple minutes of silence. 

“Are you going to say anything? A pep talk?” Beth questioned, clearly having expected it. 

Sydney sighed, “I know there isn’t anything I can say that’ll make you change your mind. I just want you to know I understand.” Of course, the idea was a bit of a stretch, but Beth didn’t need to know that. The brunette held up his left wrist, pointing at the scar that was only noticeably if you were looking for it. He remembers how noticeable they had been at the start, and he wore long sleeves for so long until they were easier to hide. His other wrist, he showed to Beth, which held a matching scar with the other. “It gets better. It always does.” He says, dropping his arms back down. 

“The world is ending. How does it get better?” Beth was between telling him off and actually wondering if he had an answer. 

Sydney shrugs his shoulders, “I don’t know. But you still have people who care about you, who love you. You can’t just give up, you don’t know how things will end up.” He knows it’s not comforting, but he knows that lying will get him nowhere. 

She doesn’t say anything, fiddling with her hands in her lap, the duvet pulled up to her waist. 

“Why did you do it?”

“The pain was too much for me to handle.” Sydney replied, pushing back the memories of that day from eight years ago. It felt like centuries ago. “But, I learned to live with it. To cope. And that’s what you need to do.” He told her. 

He’s not sure if he got through to her or not, but she slumps back against the pillows, staring straight ahead and not looking at him. 

Sydney opens his mouth to say something else, but he’s cut off by a knock on the door, and he looks up to see Andrea. 

“Hey, need something?” He asks. 

“Not me, but Sophia was looking for you.” Andrea says, “I got it.” 

He looks at Beth on the bed, before sighing and standing up, rubbing his hands on his legs. “Okay, thanks. I’ll talk to you later Beth.” He tells her, before he brushes past the blonde and out into the hallway. 

Sydney isn’t sure what time it is, but he knows that Rick and Shane have been gone for at least a couple hours, and he doesn’t know how far they were supposed to be taking Randall but he feels it shouldn’t take this long. He couldn’t do anything about it though, except wait, so he might as well go see what Sophia was up too. He really hopes that she doesn’t ask for help with her homework, because he’s not sure if he could manage to do anything from what— fifth or sixth grade? He has no idea how to do long division, and now he’ll never need to know how to. 

He steps out of the house, and it doesn’t take him long to notice Sophia, who was sitting in the grass a couple yards from the house and seemed to be digging into the ground with a broken stick she had picked up. Well, least it wasn’t homework. 

“Hey, bud. What’s up?” Sydney took no time to plop down next to her, crossing his legs. 

Sophia looked up in surprise at his arrival, “I’m bored.” She says, exasperated, and Sydney didn’t blame her. 

He stopped to think for a moment, “Maybe once things are calmed down, I’ll go into town with Glenn again and I can try and find some stuff for you and Carl?” 

That seemed to catch her interest, and she stopped her digging into the dirt, leaving behind a small hole in the ground. “Really?” She threw the stick a few feet from them, clearly done with it. 

He shrugged, “I don’t see why not.” Even though he was consistently worried about the certain doom of this group (mostly because of Shane), he wasn’t about to tell Sophia that. Clearly Dale seemed to be the only one who thought the same as him, as far as he could tell, and he wasn’t about to go around asking people. 

“Cool!” Sophia exclaimed, “This place was way better than where we were before.” She said out of nowhere, as she looked around. 

Sydney and only heard a little bit about it, “Oh yeah? Any reason why?” 

Sophia looked at him as if he was being ridiculous, “Running water! And even if we’re not living in the house, it’s way better than the other place. And there’s a lot more food.” She rambled. “Plus Mr Green and his family are really nice.” The little girl added. 

“I agree with you, trust me. I lived in a library before this. Seems cool, but books aren’t really good for sleeping on.” And well, the other obvious thing. “Anyways, is there anything specific you needed me for? I’m just wondering, cause Andrea said you were looking for me.” He tilted his head, running his hands through the blades of grass beneath him. 

“Huh?” Came the response, as she looked at him with confusion in her eyes. 

Sydney stared at her.

“Andrea told me you were looking for me.” He repeated, a bit slower. 

Sophia stared back, “Um, no, I didn’t say that. Not that I don’t like you hanging out with me!” She tried to backtrack, a smile on her face. 

Sydney did not smile, once the realization hit her. “Oh, shit.” He didn’t mean to curse in front of her, scrambling to his feet, “Stay here!” He called out to her before he was taking off back into the house, and he’s lucky he didn’t tear the screen door off its hinges as he entered. 

He didn’t even notice Maggie and Lori in the kitchen, staring in confusion as he burst into the house. 

His stomach dropped as he reached the doorway, eyes scanning over the room as he looked at the empty bed that Beth had not moved from for the past week. Panic filled him, and he looked around, wondering where the teen could have gone. 

The bathroom. 

Attached to the bedroom was a bathroom, and he stepped forward and knocked on the door. He heard glass shatter. 

“Beth? Beth!” He knocked on the door again, before he reached down and pulled at the doorknob. It didn’t budge. 

Maggie and Lori entered the room, confusion and panic on their faces, especially when they saw Sydney at the door. “I heard glass shatter, I left her with Andrea!” Sydney explained quickly, tugging at the bathroom door, and from the other side he could hear soft crying. “It’s locked.” He said, as if it wasn’t obvious. 

“Beth, honey? Can you open the door? Please?” Lori tried, coming next to the door with Sydney. 

“I- I’m so sorry. Andrea lied to get me to leave— I didn’t—“ Sydney sucked in a breath, looking at Maggie, who was desperately searching in an attempt to find a key. 

He heaved his body weight against the door, but he knew it was useless. The crying increased. 

“Here, move.” Lori said quickly, holding a fire poker in her hand, and Sydney quickly moved out of the line of fire. 

She crammed the object between the door and the door jam, pulling with her weight before it cracked and the door gave away. 

On the other side was Beth, holding her bloodied wrist as she cried, telling Maggie how sorry she was. 

The door slams shut, a twenty one year old brunette at the source of it, bloodshot eyes and shaking. He breathed heavily, as he stumbled over to the kitchen sink, turning the tap and moved to cup water into his hand. He paused, staring at the red stained hand that belonged to him, and he noticed that his fingers were shaking so bad that he couldn’t control. 

He shut the tap off. 

He pulled off the shirt he was wearing, the once grey shirt now stained with red and he threw it to the ground in a panic. 

“Fuck, fuck. What the fuck.” He hissed to himself, staring at the jagged scarring on his stomach, his torso just as stained as his hands. He pushed his shaky hands through his hair, which was long enough to curl around his ears and long enough that he had to push it away from his eyes quite frequently. “Just think, Sydney, think. Come on.” He tried to catch his breath, kicking his shoes off. The stain was on them too. 

Somewhere in the apartment, his phone buzzed, and he flinched at the sound. The brunette searches around for it, throwing pillows off the old couch and onto the ground, ignoring the disaster that his place was already in. Pizza boxes laid strewn about, clothes thrown anywhere and everywhere, red solo cups, lighters— when was the last time he cleaned? 

From between the couch cushions, he produced his phone. 

9 missed calls. 

10 text messages. 

He shakily scrolled through the messages, all from the same person. 

Hannah: Sydney 

Hannah: Sydney 

Hannah: Hello??? 

Hannah: pick up the phone 

Hannah: r u okay 

Hannah: sydney please 

Hannah: I was probably wrong about it anyways 

Hannah: please tell me you’re okay 

Hannah: I didn’t mean to scare you 

Hannah: PICK UP 

“Fuck, fuck.” Sydney hazily looks down at the phone, trying to force his eyes to focus. Mostly everything was blurry, and he squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to escape it. 

When he opened them, it was the same. 

“Shit!” He yelled, throwing the phone across the room and letting it smash against the opposite wall.

The world spun and his feet slipped out from underneath him, and he grasped at the edge of the couch as he collapsed. What the hell was wrong with him? 

Sydney presses a hand against his forehead, feeling the heat that practically burned him and he swayed slightly. He forced himself to stand up again, stumbling through the living room and into the bathroom. His own reflection stopped him in his tracks. Red eyes, heavy bags underneath his eyes, messy hair, and covered in his own blood. He grasped at his stomach, where the wound had healed over in just a few short hours and his shoulder shook. 

This can’t be real. 

It can’t. 

But what other way could it be explained? 

Sydney leaned over and turned the taps of the bath, pushing the plug into place. He kicked off his sweatpants, leaving him in only his briefs, which were speckled with the blood that he had laid in hours before. He leaned against the doorframe, trying to regain his balance enough to walk through the apartment without collapsing. It was a struggle, grasping at any available surface as he dragged himself to the kitchen. He glanced at his broken phone, sitting smashed on the ground, but he can’t find it in him to care.

He stares at the drawer, before yanking it open and staring at the contents inside. Sydney can hear the sound of the water running in the background, the tub slowly filling. He feels nothing, all the thoughts in his head slowly leaving, pushing Hannah and anything else away. His blood stained fingers grasp the handle of the knife, and that was that. 

Sydney had barely been able to get his feet to move, as Lori had yelled for Hershel to come quickly, Maggie trying to stop the bleeding that was pouring out of the pale skin of the teenage girl. Maggie was saying something, but he didn’t hear any of it, all he heard was the distant sounds of water running. 

He didn’t move until Hershel had pushed past him, carrying what he assumed to be a medical bag with him, Lori hot on his trails. 

The brunette turned on his heel and left the room, once again making his way to the front door. Outside, he saw the blonde hair, pulled up into a ponytail and he pushed open the door with more force than intended. Once she looked at him, she knew. “What the fuck is wrong with you!” Sydney exploded on her, reaching the stairs, towering over her. 

“Is she okay?” 

“No! No she is not okay you psycho!” He yelled, pointing a finger in her direction. “Hershel is probably stitching her wrists as we speak.” He gestured back to the house. 

Relief flooded Andrea’s features, “She wants to live. She made her decision.” 

Sydney spluttered with outrage, “What point of stitching her wrist did you not hear? You lied to me! So you could have a teenage girl try to kill herself!” He heard the screen door open behind him, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out that it was Maggie and Lori. 

Andrea stepped forward, just as Maggie reached the stairs, hands stained with the blood of her sister. “Stay the hell away from us.” She told the blonde, anger clouding her face. The other looked shocked, as if she should be getting a thanks for what she had done. She had the audacity to scoff, before she turned and stomped off. It reminded Sydney of Shane. 

He looked at Maggie, at the blood on her hands, and he had to remind himself to breathe. This was too much, for one day. “I’m sorry.” He told her, again, feeling the guilt filter into his system as he remembered that he was the one who had left Beth with Andrea. He should have known. Sydney didn’t give the other time to say anything, leaving just as Andrea had, passing by Sophia as he did— who looked confused at the situation, but Sydney couldn’t bring it in him to talk to her. 

Sydney felt the anger boiling inside him, trying to take over, and he can’t remember the last time it had clawed at him like this. Years ago, it was different, but things had calmed him down and eventually he learned to live with it. But, nothing brings out the worst in people like a good old fashion apocalypse. He tugged at his hair, letting out a deep breath, once he was far enough away from the house. He looked at his wrists as he pulled them back, staring at the reminder, before his shoe connected angrily with the tree in front of him. It stung, but it strangely made him feel better. 

Upon hearing a noise, he looked up, and caught sight of Daryl— and he just then realized how close he had come to Daryl’s own little camp. 

“Tree did somethin’ to hurt ya?” Daryl asked, almost sarcastically. 

He breathed in, then out. In, then out. “Yes.” Sydney said. 

Daryl didn’t say anything else, preferring to take a seat on a log that he had probably placed there, and was picking up a piece of wood and picking at it with a hunting knife. 

Sydney noticed the crossbow leaning against one the tree he had previously kicked, “You make your own arrows?” He said in surprise. 

The redneck looked at his crossbow, then at Sydney, “Yeah.” 

Clearly the other wasn’t much of a talker. 

Sydney once again wondered why the other was so far away from the others, if Daryl had willingly put himself so far away from them or if they made him. He doubts anyone makes Daryl do anything. 

Awkwardly, he cleared his throat, “You have it before?” Before the apocalypse, is unsaid but implied. 

“Yeah.” 

The conversation was light, barely one, but it was a good enough distraction to calm him down. 

“You’ll have to teach me sometime.” He mused, staring at the contraption on the ground, realizing that he’d probably shoot himself in the foot before he could shoot a walker. 

Daryl looks up at him and they connect eyes. 

The only reason that Sydney tears himself away is because he hears the sound of a car on gravel, and he whips around to look in the direction. He sees the car, “Finally!” The brunette exclaims, immediately recognizing it as the car Shane and Rick had taken. Behind him, Daryl stands up to follow him, probably wanting to know just as much as Sydney how it had gone. 

Though, as he grows closer, he can make out the dried blood over the two men’s faces, along with a couple bruises. He knows in his heart that it was not Randall that had caused them. 

Sydney prays that Randall was not in the trunk of the car, but he knew that it was useless to hope as he noticed the look on both Rick and Shane’s faces. 

Of course. 

Chapter Text

It appeared that his dull week was over. 

Sydney didn’t know how long Daryl had been in the barn with Randall, trying to extract information from him. The minute that Shane and Rick had pulled up, they’d thrown the boy in there and left him there for the night. Rick had briefly explained to them that the kid knew where the farm was, and that means they couldn’t exactly leave him somewhere. He hasn’t gotten a chance to speak to the kid, and he’s not too sure if Shane and Rick will even let him. 

The group is anxiously waiting for Daryl to return, bickering over what the plan is and what they were going to do with him. He felt dread, because when they mentioned letting him go or keeping him here, he had a feeling Shane was going to root for neither of those. 

In the distance, Daryl walked towards them, one hand holding the crossbow that was strung over his shoulder. 

“Kid’s got a gang, thirty men. They have heavy artillery and they ain’t looking to make friends. They roll through here, our boys are dead. And our women, they’re gonna—“ Daryl paused, eyes flickering over the women of the group, “They’re gonna wish they were.” 

Sydney couldn’t stop himself, “Did he tell you about his sister?” The eyes in the group turned to him. “He has an older sister. Randall told me that they tried to leave once, and one of the men from the group I think was holding his sister over Randall’s head so they wouldn’t leave. He didn’t have a choice.” He defended. 

“When did you learn this?” Rick interrogated. 

Sydney blinked, “After his surgery, I just asked him.” He looked at Daryl’s dominant hand, the bruising and blood noticeable on his knuckles. “Did you beat him?” He exclaims, feeling disgust wash over him, “He’s sixteen!” 

Daryl squints at him, “Just had a little chat.” 

He looks around, but clearly the others don’t seem to have a problem with the redneck beating on a kid. A kid! 

Rick sighed, the cuts on his face less noticeable than yesterday, “No one goes near this guy.” 

Lori steps forward, “What are you gonna do?” 

Please don’t. 

“We don’t have a choice. He’s a threat. We have to eliminate the threat.” 

Sydney stands up from his sitting position against the tree, just as Dale expresses his thoughts, “You're just gonna kill him?” 

Least someone was on his side. 

“He’s sixteen! He is a kid!” Sydney stressed, “This is insane.” 

Rick ignored them. “It’s settled. I’ll do it today.” And he turned on his heel to leave them. Oh hell no. Sydney was not letting him just walk away from this, and clearly Dale agreed too, as they both moved to follow after the sheriff. Of course, Sydney was quiet and awkward when you first met him— okay he’s usually still awkward— but after awhile, he’s much more outgoing about his feelings. And he refused to not try and get Rick to stop this nonsense. 

“You can’t do this. You don’t wanna do this. I know you don’t.” Dale pleaded. 

Rick didn’t even stop walking, “I thought about it all night. Knowing what we know now, I don’t see a way out of it.” 

“You can’t just decide this! This is a kid. A human life.” Sydney added on, and he’s really glad right now that him and the other man were on the same wavelength. 

Rick paused, “The group seemed supportive.”

Sydney scoffed as Dale beat him to the punch, “You didn’t even give anyone a chance to say anything. You didn’t give them one. There’s gotta be a process.” 

“And what process would that be? Can’t go before a judge.” 

“What? So we just kill him? You people are not listening when I tell you that he’s a kid, a kid who is scared. He didn’t have a choice.” Sydney felt like him and Dale were talking to a brick wall, and he felt scared for Randall, the kid that he promised that he wouldn’t let this group hurt him. He promised. 

“Gimme some time to talk to everyone—“ Dale began. 

“We can’t—“ 

“.... Try to figure out another way—“ 

“No!” Rick asserted, “We can’t drag this out. People are scared.” 

“Which is why we need time to discuss this.” Stressed the older man. 

“They need to be safe.” Rick snapped back. 

“Rick!” Sydney was having enough of this, “In a couple years, that would be your son. That would be Carl. At the wrong place at the wrong time, then what?” 

Rick looked at him, a stony look on his face. But Sydney could see the flicker of hesitance in his eyes, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. No one needed to know Rick very well to know that he didn’t want to do this, but he would do it, if it’s what had to be done. 

“That is not a man in the barn, that is a boy. You are killing an unarmed boy.” Sydney finished, daring to look the other straight in the eye. 

“I just need one day.” Dale persisted. 

Rick broke the eye contact, looking over at Dale, before he sighed. “Fine. We reconvene at sunset, then. What happens, happens.” He bit out, before actually walking away this time. 

Sydney let out a sigh of relief, pushing his hair back. He had no idea how him and Dale were going to pull this one off. He already knew what side Daryl, Rick and Shane were on, and he felt like Andrea was not too far behind them. That was already a four to two vote. 

“Thanks for backing me up, son.” Dale told him, patting him on the shoulder. 

Sydney looked up at the other, “Dale, I can not let them kill that boy. I can’t.” He stressed, looking off into the distance, where he knew Randall was. Hurt and scared. He hadn’t been on the farm that long, but he already knew he liked this group, he liked these people— but he also liked Randall, he felt the need to protect him when no one else would. 

“We won’t let them, okay son? I’ll go and talk to the others, they’ll listen to me, I’m sure of it.” Dale huffed out a breath, “Do you mind guarding Randall? Protecting him?” 

Sydney blinked, “Yeah, sure, no problem.” He spared a glance at the barn, “You think Shane will try something?” 

Dale gave him a look, as if that was a question that he even had to ask. “I’m not sure what he’ll do once he finds out I’m talking to people. He’s probably the one who put the idea in Rick’s head.” That wouldn’t be an outrageous idea, after all. 

“Okay. I’ll head over soon.” He brushed a hand over his face, “Good luck, Dale.” 

“You too, son.” 

It hadn’t taken long for Sydney to make his way back to his tent, grabbing his gun (it was his now, not Dave’s) and tucking it into his waistband alongside his hatchet. When he had finally made his way to walking down towards the barn, he inwardly sighed as he noticed Shane already stationed outside the barn, standing like some sort of army soldier that was guarding a prisoner. 

Insane. 

Shane spotted him once he got closer, and scoffed, “Dale, huh? What, he put you on death watch? Let me ask you something— say I wanted to go in there right now and I just wanted to take care of this, you gonna stop me? Hmm?” 

Sydney gave him a blank look, hands resting on his hips. “Yes.” He told the other, simply. 

The bald headed man scoffed, “Well, don’t matter anywho. He ain’t gonna go through with it. Everyone’s gonna pussy out. And when they do, we gonna have a big problem on our hands. Let me ask you something, who do you think is behind most the problems around here?” 

“Some might say you.” By some, he meant most. “I never took you for a kid killer, Shane, but I guess it’s a part of the job, huh?” 

The other’s eye seems to twitch, he figures it’s probably a tic, when he gets angry, or maybe he’s holding back saying something. “Things are different now.” Shane told him. 

The brunette leaned against the barn door, and he sure he heard some whispering, but he figured it had to be Randall talking to himself maybe. “I guess they are, huh? No rules anymore. No jobs.” He squints up at Shane through the sun, glaring down on him, “So things are different. People are different.” 

Shane looked at him, but clearly he had nothing else to say to the smaller male. So, they continued their watch in silence, and off in the distance he could see Dale moving from person to person— pleading for a boy’s life. 

It had been a little while later when he heard voices from inside the barn, and he looked at Shane in confusion, just as the other rushed to open the door. What the hell was going on? 

The barn door flew up, flooding the place with rays of light instead of the usual darkness with the sun peeking in through the cracks in the boards. On the other side, instead of just Randall, he spotted Carl not even a few feet away from their captive. Of course, that’s not what caused his horror, as he saw the bloodied and bruised face of the sixteen year old boy— even with his blindfold on Sydney could tell one of his eyes is swollen and he had cuts and bruises all over him. His leg was still bandaged, but it looked slightly bloodied, and he can’t imagine the pain the other was probably feeling. 

“What the hell are you doing in here?” Shane snapped out, “What did you say to him? What did you say to him, huh?” He yelled at the boy on the ground, grabbing him by his jacket roughly. 

“Nothing!” Randall screeched practically, “I didn’t say nothing!” 

Sydney looked at the three of them in the barn, how Carl looked like a deer in headlights, Randall terrified, and the murderous look in Shane’s eyes. He had never seen such a look in one person's eyes. “Calm down.” He hissed. 

Shane did the opposite, pulling his gun out of the waistband of his pants and pressing it against Randall’s forehead. He seemed to be pushing against him with enough force to bruise, with how the boy started wincing, shaking with fear. “Let me tell you something— I will shoot you where you sit.” He told the boy. 

The brunette glanced at Car, who was standing there, looking between Shane and the captive, the look of being caught now replaced with curiosity. 

“Shane, stop man!” 

“Open your mouth—“ Randall did nothing, “Open your mouth!” 

The minute the boy did, he was met with the barrel of Shane’s gun. “You like talking man? You like it?!” He pressed the gun further. 

It almost scared Sydney when he made the split decision to pull out his own gun, and pointed it at Shane’s head. A soft click was heard as he turned the safety off, “Back the fuck off.” 

Shane chuckled, “The hell? You gonna shoot me?” 

“Hurt that kid anymore and I’ll shoot you without thinking twice.” He didn’t look in the direction of Carl, worried of what the boy might be thinking now, especially with pointing a gun at a man he seemed to really like. “Things are different now.” He said plainly, “You’re not a cop anymore, and I’m not a guy from IT.” 

The former cop seemed to pause, before he let out a laugh, pulling his gun away from Randall and holding it in the air— arms up in a good gesture. “I guess you’re right, huh?” Though his words sounded nice, the look in Shane’s eyes told a much different story. The bald headed man clicked the safety on his gun, and tucked it away, before he turned on his heel and grabbed at Carl, practically dragging him out of the barn. His tune changed quickly as he began to lecture the boy with the sheriff’s hat on, about staying away— the usual, it seems. 

Sydney let out a sigh, doing the same to his gun and tucking it away. He crouched down next to Randall, “Hey, it’s me, Sydney.” He placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder, voice above a whisper, “I can’t stay long, but—“ 

“Are they going to execute me?” 

The words shot through him like a bolt, the panicked voice of the other, trying to contain his voice. “Don’t panic, okay?” He said, “You have people on your side. I’m doing everything in my power to keep you safe.” He doesn’t know why he felt such a need to protect this boy, maybe he just couldn’t bear the thought of someone getting killed just because they got stuck with the wrong people. 

Randall gave him a soft nod, still trembling, and that was that.

Sydney had left his position at the barn after Andrea had taken over for Shane, and he had given her a look before he left. He didn’t think that highly of the blonde girl, after previous actions, but he didn’t think she would let Shane put a gun to Randall’s head and shoot him or do it herself while he wasn’t looking. 

She seemed to have at least some morals. 

He had looked around a little for Dale, but he figured that the older man must’ve been inside talking to some people from the Greene family— maybe trying to convince Hershel, it was his farm after all. 

He spotted the other man he was looking for, the redneck who had a crossbow strung over his shoulder and seemed to be gathering his things. Sydney figured that the other was getting ready to head out into the forest, to hunt. He noticed the other seemed to do that a lot, gone for hours and sometimes only coming back with a squirrel or two. 

Just as he got into speaking distance, Daryl looked up, and practically scoffed in annoyance when he saw him. Well. 

“Dale send you?” 

Sydney stared at him, “No.” 

The other didn’t seem to believe him, hiking his crossbow up on his shoulder more— the brunette zeroed in on his bruised knuckles, the one he had used to beat Randall. 

“What do ya’ want then?” The redneck asked, annoyed. 

He shifted from one foot to the other, “Listen, I know I’m a little late to the group, and you don’t know me that well— but I can tell that you’re decent. Decent enough to have some morals.” Of course the other didn’t seem too friendly at first, but he knew that Daryl was nowhere close to even being on the same level as Shane. Daryl didn’t say anything, so he continued, “They told me, how you searched for Sophia. You were probably more determined than half this group.” 

Daryl squinted at him through the sun, “So?” 

“I saw that boy’s face. What you did to him. You don’t have to be like that, you’re not like—“ He paused, pursing his lips. 

“Not like who? Shane?” 

Sydney wondered how many boundaries he had already crossed with this group, how many they had ignored, just letting him slip into the group like he had been there all along. “He’s dangerous, Daryl. You have to see that. I know you’re close with Rick, so you could talk to him.” Sydney said, “If not for Randall, do it for the group. This is just one other thing that proves Shane can control this group.” He honestly worried how much longer he could deal with Shane, before it would be dangerous for people like him or Dale to even be in the group. 

“This group is broken, just like I told Dale. You’d be better off on your own.” Daryl snapped at him. 

“Being on my own got me robbed.” And killed. “That boy is sixteen, the same age as Beth. He got involved with the wrong people and you’re gonna sit back and let them murder him.” He shot back. “How long you think before Shane turns the gun on one of us, huh? You can live with that? I guess all that searching for Sophia was just a waste.” He snapped right back at the other, almost immediately feeling bad for throwing Sophia’s name out there like he did, but he hid the emotion from his face. Sydney had thought Daryl would at least come to his senses, especially all the stuff he had heard about the redneck, that he wouldn’t let a teenager be killed. 

He turned on his heel away from Daryl. 

It looked like he was wrong. 

The brunette rubbed at his temples, feeling a headache coming on. He knew it had been from stress, also with a combination of being out in the sun all day. He should honestly invest in a hat, or maybe a pair of sunglasses. It would go a long way. 

He pushed open the screen door to the Greene family home, scuffing his feet on the mat on his way to get off any stray dirt or grass. He wasn’t sure how long it was till the group got together to talk, and he could feel the anxiety build up in his chest no matter how much he tried to push it down. Sydney tried not to think of what he would do if they decided they were going to kill Randall, he decided that he would figure it out when they actually decided what they were going to do. 

He prayed they made the right decision. 

He knocked lightly on the door frame, peeking into the room where he saw the teenage blonde girl laying in the bed, comforter pulled up to her stomach and her arms on display. He pointedly did not look at her wrists, where they were bandaged with white gauze. 

“Hey.” He said softly, noticing that Beth’s eyes were open and she was indeed awake. 

She smiled at him. 

Sydney had noticed she was doing better lately, actually talking to those who came to visit her and even laughing and smiling occasionally. He was glad to see her getting better, and tried to visit her whenever he managed to get free time and someone else wasn’t already at her bedside. 

“Had to get out of the sun for a little while.” He hummed, taking a seat in one of the chairs that had been pulled up beside her bed. “How are you doing?” He asked her. 

She seemed to contemplate her response for a moment, tilting her head on the pillow to look at him, soft blue eyes staring into his, “Good. What about you?” 

“Rough day.” He laughed, leaning back in the chair, fidgeting slightly. 

Beth shifted to her side, putting her full attention on him, leaning forward slightly. “Is it because of that guy?” She asked. 

This day was just full of surprises. He sighed, slumping in the chair, almost defeated. “Yeah, but you don’t gotta worry about that. You just gotta worry about resting and getting better.” He informed her. 

“Who is he?” 

Sydney glanced over at the door after she spoke, afraid that at any second the girl’s father would walk in or even Maggie, wondering what they were talking about or overhearing the conversation. He doesn’t even want to begin to think about what would happen if they figured out that Beth even knew about the prisoner, and probably blame Sydney themselves for telling her about it even though he hadn’t. He couldn’t blame the two for being protective over her though, considering. He sucked in a breath, nervous, “His name’s Randall. He’s sixteen. He might’ve gone to school with you?” He had heard that was the problem, that the boy had gone to school with the youngest Greene member. Knew who she was, even. 

She seemed to be thinking again, as if she was searching her brain for Randall, if she remembered him from school. “Randall Culver?” She asks quizzingly. 

Sydney nods. 

“He was in a couple of my classes, I think.” She tucked a hand under her head, and Sydney briefly wondered if her wrists were hurting her currently— or if Hershel had given her enough pain meds to take it away. “Always liked to talk.” Beth said, a small smile forming on her lips. 

Maybe it reminded her of the good times. 

Before he had a chance to say anything else, he heard a ruckus a couple rooms over. Voices, and not just of the people that lived in the house. 

His heart dropped. 

“That’s my cue, I guess.” He sighed, standing up from the chair. He laid a soft hand on Beth’s shoulder and looked down at her, “I’ll try and come by tomorrow and talk for a bit. Get some rest, okay?” Sydney gave her a small smile, despite how he was feeling on the inside. 

Beth all but nodded at him, but he thought that maybe she might’ve had more to say or ask— but he didn’t dare give her the chance, leaving the room as Rick’s voice grew more distinct. 

The room grew tense as more people filtered through, filling up the downstairs. No one said anything for a couple moments, and Sydney took his standing spot next to Dale, who gave him a small nod when he saw him. He looked around at the faces of people around him— Glenn who was sitting on a stool with an anxious look on his face, head in his hands, Maggie staring off into be distance as if she would rather be anywhere but here, Andrea who seemed to be hugging herself as some sort of comfort, or Shane who just looked as if he was bored that he had to be there. Resentment filled him as he glanced at the former police officer, and he had to push down the hatred he felt to try and keep a clear head. 

Carl attempted to hide in the background, probably itching to listen in on the conversation and Sydney tried not to think about how he held a gun to Shane’s head a couple hours earlier. He wondered if Carl mentioned that to anybody. The boy was pushed out as soon as his father gave him a stern look, upstairs where he figured that Sophia and Jimmy were— away from the conversation. 

It was Glenn who finally broke the tense silence, looking up at Rick, “So how do we do this? Just take a vote?”

“Does it have to be unanimous?” Andrea cut in.

“How about majority rules?” Lori questioned. 

Sydney already knew this was going to be hell. 

The man in charge let out a sigh, face tense, “Well, let’s— let’s just see where everybody stands and then we can talk through the options.” 

Of course, you could guess who was the first person to say something to that, leaning against the fireplace next to Andrea and T-Dog. “Well, where I sit, there’s only one way to move forward.” He said plainly. 

Sydney bit back a retort. 

“Killing him, right?” Dale started, almost a sad look on his face, “I mean why bother to even take a vote. It’s clear which way the wind’s blowing.” Sydney felt bad for the older man, and he figured his talking with the group hadn’t gone that well. 

“Well, if people believe we should spare him, I wanna know.” Rick said.

Dale continued, “Well I can tell you it’s a small group— maybe just me, Sydney and Glenn.” 

Glenn stared up at the older man, a guilty look in his eyes, as if he was a kid who had been caught stealing from the cookie jar. Sydney felt his stomach drop. “Look, Dale, I—“ Glenn started. 

“He is a child!” Sydney burst out, unable to contain the words flowing inside him. “You people clearly don’t see that. He is sixteen, and he is scared. Most of you can make this decision without a second thought cause you aren’t the ones putting the gun to his head.” He hissed, “I’d like to see you agree to killing him if you had to pull the trigger.” By the look of the faces around him, he knew that they knew he was right, but he’s not sure if that would stop them from staying with their beliefs. 

“Man, who even said you get a vote?” Shane scoffed, staring at him. 

Sydney rolled his eyes, “I have just as much of a right to be here as you do.” He told him, “I didn’t save one kid just to let you shoot another.” 

Dale looked around the people in the room, and Sydney noticed that at some point Maggie had stood up. The older man had turned his gaze on her, “How about you? You agree with this?” 

Maggie looked like a deer caught in headlights, looking around her, a nervous look on her face. She clearly hadn’t expected to be put on the spot like this. “Couldn’t we continue keeping him prisoner?” She suggested. 

“Just another mouth to feed.” Daryl stated from across the room, and Sydney couldn’t help but shoot him a glare.

Hershel took this moment to speak up, “It may be a lean winter.”

“We could ration better.” Another suggestion, this time from Lori. 

Sydney glanced at Dale, who was already in the process of speaking, “Well, he could be an asset. Give him a chance to prove himself.” 

“Put him to work?” Glenn said in confusion. 

Rick rubbed a hand down his face, clearly this debate was not going at all how he expected, “We’re not letting him walk around.” 

“We could put an escort on him.” 

“Who wants to volunteer for that duty?” Shane scoffed. 

“I will.” Dale and Sydney said at the same time. Least they were on the same page. 

“I don’t think any of us should be walking around with this guy.” Rick said, throwing that plan out the window. 

“He’s right, I wouldn’t feel safe unless he was tied up.” Lori spoke out. 

Sydney almost moaned in agony, “Oh my god, shut up.” The two of them looked at him. “I think when I speak, you just don’t hear it.” He taps on his own ear, “What part of sixteen don’t you get? The same age as Beth, Jimmy? He’s not even a high school graduate.” He was practically pleading for the boy’s life, “He’s just a kid who got mixed up with the wrong people. He was just doing what he was told.” He turned his gaze directly on Rick, “You killed Dave and Tony. That’s all he knew. He did what he was told.” 

Rick broke eye contact, and Sydney wasn’t sure if what he said had gotten through to him. 

“Look, say we let him join us, right? Maybe he’s helpful, maybe he’s nice. We let our guard down and maybe he runs off, brings back his thirty men.” Shane was acting nice, as if he wouldn’t go out there and shoot Randall right now if Rick told him he could. 

“So the answer is to kill him to prevent a crime that he may never even attempt? If we do this, we’re saying there’s no hope. Rule of law is dead. There’s no civilization.” Dale shot back. 

“Oh my god.” Shane said in disbelief. 

The blonde girl on the corner, who had kept her head down the entire conversation, decided to speak up. “If you go through with it, how would you do it? Would he suffer?” He hadn’t spoken to Patricia much, only a few passing words, but she seemed nice. He wondered if she knew the man she stood a couple feet from had murdered the love of her life. 

“We could hang him, right? Just snap his neck?” Shane shrugged. He acted as if they weren’t talking about a human being. 

Sydney pushes down the bile in his throat, the urge to puke all over the floor at what they were talking about doing. Doing to Randall, who was probably scared and cold all alone in the barn and wondering if someone was going to come any minute and take him away. To execute him. 

“I thought about that. Shooting may be more humane.” Sydney wondered how much time Rick had put into thinking about how he would end Randall’s life. 

“And what about the body? Do we bury him?” T-Dog asked. 

“Hold on!” Dale almost yelled, “You’re talking about this like it’s already decided!”

“You’ve been talking all day, going around in circles. You just wanna go around in circles again?” Daryl cut in, arms crossed over his chest. 

“This is a kid’s life! It is worth more than a five minute conversation!” Sydney retorted back, he felt like they were on a debate team but it was him and Dale versus everyone else. “He has a sister, out there somewhere, heart broken because her little brother is gone. He had parents who loved him, who cared for him, brought him into this world. We’re gonna kill someone because we can’t decided what to do with him? We saved his life! What was the point? Should’ve just shot him back at the bar when you had the chance, huh? Wouldn’t have been as much as a problem.” He snarked, the end part specifically targeting Rick. 

“How are we better than any of those people that we’re so afraid of?” Dale tacked on, he was holding his hat in his hand, squeezing it tightly, and if you looked close enough Sydney would say he was shaking. 

“We all know what needs to be done.” Of course it was Shane. 

“Shut the hell up, Shane. We all know where you stand.” He snapped. 

If no one knew the dislike that had grown between the two of them, it sure as hell was showing now. He wasn’t afraid of the bald headed man, not for a second, and he wouldn’t let himself be bullied into silence. 

“Dale is right.” Rick sighed, “We can’t leave any stone unturned here. We have a responsibility—“

He was interrupted by Andrea, “So what’s the other solution?” 

“Let Rick finish.” The sheriff’s wife spoke out. 

Andrea seemed annoyed at this, “We haven’t come up with a single viable option yet.” 

“So let’s work on it!” The other person fighting for Randall’s life insisted. 

“We are.” Rick sounded so fed up with this conversation, tired, but Sydney couldn’t find it in his heart to even feel bad for him. He did this. 

It surprised Sydney who spoke up next, Sophia’s mother, Carol. “Stop it. Just stop it. I'm sick of everybody arguing and fighting. I didn't ask for this. You can't ask us to decide something like this. Please decide— but leave me out.” She had gotten the attention of the others in the room, and Sydney stared at her. Even though he seemed to be really close with Sophia, he never really spoke with Carol much, she seemed to spend a lot of time by herself or with Lori. He thought maybe it was a little odd, the way she basically suctioned herself to the other women, but he had no way to discover the underlying truth. After all, he only talked to Sophia, and he couldn’t exactly ask the twelve year old about her mother’s habits because he definitely didn’t want to broach that topic in fear of what would happen. 

“Not speaking out of killing him yourself—“ He looked into Carol’s eyes, “There’s no difference.” 

“All right, that’s enough.” Sydney thought he was doing a bad job at being a peacemaker, “Anybody that wants the floor before we make a final decision has the chance.” 

Nobody said anything. Him and Dale had already said their peace, they had pleaded for this boy’s life the entire conversation, yet no one seemed to want to side with them. He looked at all the faces around him, how different they had become since when he had first stepped in this room. Everyone didn’t want to seem to look at Dale or himself, and he knew they felt guilty for what they were about to do, the side they had chosen. Maggie had tears in her eyes, he could see them building, ready to fall at any moment. But she didn’t say anything, not a pipe, to defend Randall, a boy the same age as her little sister. He couldn’t believe the group that he had stumbled upon, had no idea that he wouldn’t be fighting for someone’s life a short while after joining them. 

Dale looked almost unhinged, the same sad look that he saw in Maggie’s eyes, “You once said that we don’t kill the living.” He told Rick. 

“That was before the living tried to kill us.” 

Sydney had begun to lose hope at this point, the dread weighing him down and sitting on his chest like a boulder. He felt as if any moment he would stop breathing, as if all the oxygen would be pulled from his lungs. 

“But don’t you see? If we do this, the people that we were— the world that we knew is dead. And this new world is ugly. It’s …. harsh. It’s— it’s survival of the fittest. And that’s a world I don’t wanna live in and I don’t believe that any of you do.” Dale sucked in a breath, “I can’t. Please. Let’s just do what's right. Isn’t there anybody else who's gonna stand with us?” 

Some people looked like maybe they wanted to say something, but in the end, it seemed like they weren’t going to. 

Until, one of more unexpected ones, spoke up. “He’s right.” Andrea broke the silence, “We should try to find another way.” 

Sydney didn’t miss the look of disbelief that Shane gave her, and somehow, that made him feel a little better. He guessed the other had thought the blonde would stick by his side, but he was wrong. He hadn’t missed the way the two had looked at each other, but he had chosen to ignore it for his own sanity. 

“Anybody else?”  Rick inquired. 

There seemed to be nobody else. Nobody else who would stick up for Randall and join Dale and Sydney (plus Andrea) on their side. It had become clear that it was majority rules, the way that Rick glanced over the group with a stoic look on his face. It was the three of them against the rest of the group. 

His eyes burned with tears and he desperately blinked them away, trying to will himself to not cry in front of the others. 

They had lost. 

“Are y’all gonna watch too?” Dale sounded on the edge of crying as well, voice breaking as he spoke. “No, no, of course not. You’ll go hide your heads in your tents and try to forget that we’re slaughtering a human being. I— I won’t be a party to it.” The older man started to leave, but not before he paused, resting a hand on Daryl’s shoulder as he passed. “You’re right, this group is broken.” He said, loud enough so everyone else in the room would hear it. Then, he left, the door slamming shut behind him. 

Sydney stared at the group in front of him, forcing himself to be strong and not break down. “Guess I’m lucky I brought that little girl back, huh?” If there was one thing that Sydney couldn’t control, it was the anger that seeped through his voice. “God knows what you would’ve done to me.” He moved to follow what Dale had done, leave and not look back. He couldn’t watch this anymore, if they had anything else to say, he didn’t need to hear it. 

He caught Rick’s eyes as he left, and without remorse, he spoke, “You’re no better than those we fear.”

After spending a good chunk bawling his eyes out in his tent, he had rubbed his tears away with the front of his shirt, not caring that he stained it with his own tears. He sat still for a couple minutes in his tent, staring off into nothing as he thought about what he was going to do now. 

What was he going to do now? 

The brunette picked up the gun that he had laid beside him when he had crawled inside his tent, holding the heavy object between his hands. The fully loaded gun. 

He pulled himself out of his thoughts, before he finally crawled out of the tent and stood up. He didn’t see anybody around, and he assumed that they had taken Dale’s words to heart when he had told them to go hide their heads in their tents. Sydney figured he would give Dale some room, knowing how upset that the other probably was right now. Just as upset as Sydney himself probably, or more. 

In the distance, he could see a lantern lit up in the barn. His heart pulled for Randall. 

He sucked in a breath, putting one foot forward. That’s all he had to do. One step at a time. 

After he had gotten closer to the barn, he heard small footsteps, and he quickly whipped around on whoever it was, gun tight in his hand. 

It was Carl. 

He sighed in relief. “What are you doing?” He asked, eyes darting from the boy to the barn. 

The boy shuffled from what foot to the other, and he noticed that Carl was also glancing at the barn. “Nothing.” He said, not so innocently. 

Sydney stared at him, not believing what he was saying for a second. He looked down on the boy, looking into his eyes (he seemed to be doing that a lot today) and it didn’t take him long to get what he was doing. He stepped forward, rested a hand on the kids shoulder, and the other looked as if he was going to be turned into his mother at any second. “Go.” He told the boy, “If you want to so bad.” The brunette pulled his hand back, stepping off to the side, revealing the barn fully to Carl’s eyes. 

The boy looked at him once more, before he turned his gaze back to the barn and kept walking. 

Sydney watched him go. 

It didn’t take long for chaos to erupt inside the barn, and he watched as first Randall was dragged out by Daryl and T-Dog, back to the place where he had been previously kept prisoner. The boy stumbled and almost fell a couple times, and Sydney couldn’t even imagine how terrible the other felt right now— how many emotions he must be feeling right now. 

Shane stormed out of the barn next, clearly upset that the boy wasn’t dead yet, and moved in the direction where Sydney was standing. He didn’t move. The bald headed man noticed him, dark eyes meeting Sydney’s through the moonlight— flicking to the fun in the smaller man’s hand. 

“Something wrong?” Sydney asked the other, a bitter tone to his voice. 

He thought maybe Shane wanted to hit him. He looked as if it was just the two of them he wouldn’t hold back. The other probably had realized how much of a problem Sydney would be, but he certainly did now, after today. He watched as Randall was pushed into the barn from a far, relief settling in his chest as he looked past Shane. “What a shame.” He told the bald headed man plainly. 

Shane looked like he was holding back saying something, which he figured he was. Sydney kind of wanted him to, but he didn’t. He just glared at him and stormed past him. 

It appeared Sydney had missed Rick having dragged Carl out of the barn, because they were now standing near the campsite where it seemed a couple people had crawled out of their tents to see what was wrong. 

It occurred to him that he should go find Dale, after not spotting him anywhere near the campsite or the others. He scanned the surrounding area, searching for any sign of him. It was odd that the other would go too far from camp at this time of night, but who knows what the other was doing with how upset he was. Carl had prevented the death of Randall tonight, ultimately, but he didn’t save him completely— the other was still prisoner. But, it was enough, and he had bought more time for the boy and that was all that mattered. 

Carl being a little shit had actually worked in his favour. 

“Sydney?” 

He turned around, spotting Sophia a couple feet away. He figured she had come from the house, where she had probably been since the conversation the group had there. He wondered what she knew, if she was just as aware as Carl seemed to be. He prayed that she wasn’t. 

“Hey, what are you doing out of the house?” He asked. 

Sophia opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out as in the distance, someone started screaming. He whipped around, looking into the distance, realizing it was farther than the campsite where the rest of the group was. 

What the fuck? 

“Sophia, go back in the house!” He ordered her, but he knew as soon as he ran towards the campsite she was trailing behind him. He skidded to a stop in front of Rick and Lori, and T-Dog who had gotten a hold of a shotgun. “What’s going on?” He asked frantically. 

“Help! Over here! Help!” Another voice filtered in through the loud screaming, and he recognized it immediately to be Daryl. 

Everyone immediately took off after the voice, and Sydney gripped his gun tighter. Under the moonlight, the first thing he noticed was the dead walker in the grass, laying face down. A couple feet from it, Daryl was hunched over a body, hands frantically working at the person. 

“Who is it?” Lori had Carl pulled against her tightly as Shane pushed past her. 

“Oh my god. Oh god.” 

“Rick!” 

The screams had died down into a gurgling house, pained and tortured, and even though he felt Sophia pull at his hand to attempt to stop him from moving forward, he did. Everyone had begun to gather around, having heard all the noise. As he stepped closer, he finally saw who was below Daryl, spitting up blood all over himself. 

“No, oh god, no.” Sydney almost let the gun slip out of his hand in shock, a choked noise falling from his lips. 

“Dale! Just listen to me voice. Listen to me, all right? Please, Dale.” Rick was staring down at the hurt man, and Sydney had finally realized what had happened. The whole lower half of Dale’s abdomen was full of blood, torn open by the claws of the walker that had been incapacitated moments earlier. The man on the ground was moaning and crying in pain, probably not even lucid enough to hear what any of them were saying. Dale’s eyes were glossed over and not focused at all, wide with terror. 

“Okay, hold on now. Get Hershel!” Rick yelled, gripping onto Dale’s shoulders. 

“Oh god, hang on Dale, hang on.” Andrea was crouched down next to the man, voice cracking. 

Sydney stared at the man’s torn open stomach. The bleeding wasn’t stopping, flowing out of him as if it was a water cooler. 

“What happened?” Hershel called out. 

“What can we do?” Rick begged. 

Glenn said something, but Sydney didn’t hear it, still focusing on Dale. 

More words were spoken, but all he heard was, “He won’t make the trip.” 

Everything seemed to haze over, and all he heard was the awful noises that Dale was making, panting and moaning as he teetered on the edge of death. Rick had pulled out his gun, pointing it down on his friend, but he broke off in a sob, hand shaking. It felt as if time slowed, as Daryl stepped up beside him, placing his hand on the gun and taking the weapon out of his grasp. 

Dale seemed to lean into the weapon, forehead brushing the barrel of Daryl’s gun. 

There was nothing anybody could do.

“Sorry brother.” 

Chapter Text

“Dale could— could get under your skin. He sure got under mine, because he wasn't afraid to say exactly what he thought, how he felt. That kind of honesty is rare and brave. Whenever I'd make a decision, I'd look at Dale. He'd be looking back at me with that look he had. We've all seen it one time or another. I couldn't always read him, but he could read us. 

He saw people for who they were. He knew things about us— the truth, who we really are. In the end, he was talking about losing our humanity. 

He said this group was broken. The best way to honor him is to unbreak it. Set aside our differences and pull together, stop feeling sorry for ourselves and take control of our lives, our safety ...

...Our future. We're not broken. We're gonna prove him wrong. From now on we're gonna do it his way. That is how we honor Dale.” 

Sydney had stood around, watching as the body had been lowered into the ground and covered with dirt. Beside the other two graves, which were perfectly outlined with rocks, but no headstone to match— they didn’t get that privilege anymore. He told himself he should probably help, probably do something, but all he could do was stare and watch as they patted the dirt down and outlined it with rocks to match the others. He told himself he shouldn’t be so broken up about a guy he only knew for a couple weeks, that everyone else deserved to be the ones who stood around and stared, but he couldn’t will himself to snap out of it no matter how hard he tried. 

All he could think about was how hard they had worked together, to save Randall’s life, how passionate the older man had been. 

As it turned out, the only thing that would save Randall’s life, is another life. 

He had stood by as Rick made his speech, arm wrapped tightly around the shoulders of Sophia, who cried softly for the older man she had loved so much. Sydney found himself annoyed that all of a sudden they were doing it Dale’s way, listening to what they had said, only because the older man had died. It had taken the life of Dale for them to finally listen to reason. 

He would never say anything about it though, as he looked over the mournful faces of his new friends. Now was not the time to say anything.

Nobody had to be able to read minds to know what Shane thought, what he thought about how they were going to cut Randall loose, after how hard he had fought to get the boy killed. 

You could see the shift in power, how quickly Shane was no longer the second hand man to Rick— even within a night, Sydney had caught onto it. He figured Rick was serious about the things he told them, and that meant that his old best friend would not be calling the shots anymore, but it would be Daryl. 

He didn’t know how Shane felt about that, but he knew it wasn’t good. 

His eyes had drifted to the barn one two many times, where he knew Randall was. He would have to try and sneak off, to talk to Randall, assure the boy that he wasn’t going to be executed. He feared what would happen once he was let loose, unsure if the kid would even know where to go— but he knew there was no point in discussing allowing the boy to stay. He wasn’t stupid enough to push for more than he had already been given. 

He remembered the gun that Shane had pointed at Randall, after they had caught Carl in the barn. He was sure no one knew about the incident besides those involved, because no one had bothered to mention anything to him. It’s not as if him and Shane would say anything, and if Carl did that would mean he would have to admit guilt to being in the barn in the first place. 

The brunette watched Shane carefully throughout the day, eyes straying from him to the barn— careful to make sure he didn’t stare too long. While he feared for Randall’s safety when he was gone, he wasn’t much safer here, on the farm, where Shane was. 

He personally didn’t think anyone was. 

When he had gotten wind that everyone would be moving into the farmhouse, he was shocked, because he had never thought that Hershel would change his mind about having them in the house. Though, he supposed it was a special circumstance, being deemed too unsafe to be sleeping outside in some tents where anything could sneak up on them. 

But seventeen people in one house? 

It would be difficult. 

Everyone was on edge after the fatal attack, and that was clear. After the burial, they had quickly gone into action about helping secure the place more. A few were sent off to check the perimeter, while the rest began to board up the house and the barn. He figured they should’ve done that months ago, but many of them hadn’t thought that the walkers would get so close, that they were safer out here. 

The tragedy was enough to get Beth out of bed, the first time he had seen her up since the accident, but she seemed to be doing quite alright considering. She had stuck close to Jimmy, helping him board up the windows on the bottom floor of the house, laughing quietly at something he said or smiling up at him. 

It occurred to him he’s not even sure he’s ever spoken to Jimmy. 

Sydney decided to not be completely useless, helping take down all the tents (which turned out more difficult than anticipated) and he had even enlisted the help of Sophia in hopes of cheering her up. It seemed to work, a kid who was distracted easily by a simple conversation, goofing around with her as he attempted to take apart the tents and fold them neatly. 

Him and Sophia ended up having to get T-Dog’s help, after tripping over themselves for thirty minutes. 

After his own tent had been packed away, he had pulled his bag over his shoulders and wrapped up his sleeping bag and pillow together before he decided it was time to head into the house. People had been in and out all day, having to move everything from the campsite to the inside of the house. He hadn’t realized how much stuff everyone had until it was time to move from one place to the other. 

Once he was inside, he was honestly trying to figure out where he was going to set up camp. Sydney had been pretty late to the party, everyone else having already picked where they were going to sleep, sleeping bags, pillows and bags scattered around the downstairs. He paused for a moment or two, before he gave up and placed his stuff in some random corner and decided he would decide where he was going to sleep when it was actually time to sleep. His hatchet was tucked into the loop of his belt again, and he pulled his gun from where he had placed it inside his bag— also tucking it on his person, tucking the weapon into the back of his jeans. Inside the bag he noticed the pocket knife he had gotten in the pharmacy, and he raised his eyebrows— he had forgotten for a couple days that he had it. Picking it up, he slipped the knife into his front pocket. Never hurt to have it. 

People were bustling around inside, but he didn’t feel the need to speak to any of them. He moved through the rooms into the kitchen, and he searched around swiftly before he found a bottle of water and a rag. He hoped that the others wouldn’t miss it too much, but he figured they wouldn’t even notice (no one kept such close tabs on water) and hopefully he’d be able to visit Randall without a fuss. 

He wasn’t sure if anyone had tended to the blood and grime, or the cuts, on the boy— he didn’t want to risk taking any medicine or anything, so he settled for water. 

It would have to do. 

After he deemed himself ready, he left the farmhouse and made the trek across the field to the barn. He never realized how long the walk was until he was anxious to get there, anxious to see Randall and make sure he was okay. After the scare that had happened yesterday, all he wanted to do was look at him with his own two eyes and prove to himself he indeed was still alive. 

He squinted through the glaring sun, noticing how two figures had just disappeared beyond the tree line. 

The water bottle and rag fell out of his hands as he jogged forward, to the edge of the tree line. It appeared that visiting Randall in the barn was now out of the question. 

He should have guessed, he should have known, should have known that Shane wouldn’t just let Randall go. 

Sydney pulled his gun out of his waistband, pausing for a moment as he turned around to glance back at the farmhouse. Not a single soul in sight, everyone either in the house or out of view. If he started screaming he would surely alarm the psycho in the woods who was probably dragging Randall along, and after all, he wasn’t even sure if anyone would hear him.

By the time he got somebody, the boy could be dead. 

His heart began to thump faster in his chest, but he decided to not waste another second before following after the two. From the angle he was at, he could mostly only see the back of Shane, but every few seconds he could see the stumbling body of Randall— who was being forced to move through the woods while he assumed blindfolded, probably unsure of who was even taking him. He probably thought he was about to be executed again. 

Well, he was. 

Sydney was scared, stepping carefully over leaves as he attempted to catch up to the other two. He had to catch up just a little, to catch Shane off guard so he wouldn’t shoot Randall because he was a little too late with his gun. 

Leaves crinkled heavily under him as he moved, and he was so sure that at any moment Shane would somehow hear him following him, but the other had kept moving regardless. 

When he had finally managed to catch up to them, Randall had been pushed to the ground, slumped over with Shane’s hand holding onto the boy’s shoulder so he couldn’t move. From this angle he could see the boy’s face, or what wasn’t covered by the piece of duct tape and blindfold that was attached to his face. His hands were tied, but Sydney could barely see that from this angle. He felt his breath slow, as he held up his gun in front of him, quietly clicking off the safety. 

Shane was talking to Randall, quietly, just as he pulled the blindfold down to pool around the boy’s neck. It would be hard to not notice the figure that was looming from behind Shane, far enough back to not be heard by the other. 

Randall’s eyes widened, in both terror at seeing Shane and surprise at seeing Sydney. Of course, Shane didn’t seem to think anything out of the ordinary cause it only seemed to him that Randall was terrified to see him. And he probably was, Shane was definitely not the person Randall would want to see, especially after realizing he was deep in the forest. 

Sydney held a finger up his lips swiftly, almost pleading with the other with his eyes to not say anything to alert Shane to his presence. 

The bald headed man had continued speaking to Randall as the smaller male tried to pull away from Shane’s grasp, but unable to, with the hold the larger man had on him. Sydney wondered what Shane’s game plan was, to lull the boy into a false sense of security before killing him? 

It was sick. And it was horrible. 

Just as Shane pulled off the piece of tape and discarded it, hearing Randall suck in a deep breath as he was freed, Sydney stepped forward. 

“Step away from the kid, Shane.” His voice rang out through the forest, cutting through the thick silence that had fallen over the area. 

Shane’s shoulders seemed to tense, raising towards his ears before he rolled them back and he turned his head slightly, “You gotta be shitting me right now.” 

“Are you deaf?” Sydney snapped, “Move away from him.” 

Slowly but surely, the other man stood up, squaring his shoulders and turning around to face Sydney. The look on his face was murderous as he took a couple steps away from Randall, fists clenching at his side. 

“Take your gun out. Toss it over here.” He wasn’t stupid, knowing the other’s weapon was tucked in the back of his jeans. “Don’t try anything funny. You might think you’re fast, but I can promise you that I’ll pull the trigger first.” He wasn’t sure if he was mentally prepared to actually pull the trigger, to actually shoot Shane, he hadn’t actually thought it would come to this. Sydney knew he couldn’t hesitate if the other tried something, because then him and Randall would both be dead. 

Shoot first, think later. 

His eyes never wavered from Shane’s form, as the other slowly reached behind his back and pulled his weapon out. Sydney didn’t remove his finger from the trigger, holding his breath until Shane had tossed the gun over to where Sydney was standing. 

“You really gonna do this? What’s your big plan, huh?” The bald headed man scoffed, a sneer on his lips. 

“Shut up.” Sydney shot back, before he addressed Randall without taking his eyes from Shane, “C’mere, kid.” 

Randall walked over to him (more like limped, which Sydney had never noticed until now because he hadn’t really seen the other walk), feet dragging against the leaves. The brunette reached into his pocket with the hand not on the gun, pulling out the knife that he had stuffed into there not that long ago. He pushed the blade out, gesturing for Randall to come closer— just as he did, he cut through the ropes that were holding his hands together. From the corner of his eye, he could see how the ropes had gotten bloodied and he was sure that Randall’s wrists were a mess from the cuffs. 

Shane was quiet, something he hadn’t thought was possible. He handed the knife over to Randall once he had pushed the blade back in, who shakily took it from his hands. “Get Shane’s gun, Randall.” He ordered the teenager, staring into the former cop’s eyes as he said it. “Try and retrace your steps. I want you to get back to the farm.” The brunette was sure how confident he was the boy could get back the way he came, but he had no other choice. “Tell them—“ He paused for a second, trying to think of something, “Tell them Shane dragged you out into the woods and he was going to kill you. Tell them Sydney sent you.” 

Shane scoffed again. 

Sydney could tell the other was scared, could feel Randall’s fearful eyes on him even though he was looking at the man in front of him. “Don’t worry. They won’t hurt you. The real threat is out here.” The one person that would truly hurt the boy currently wasn’t even at the farm. 

Randall didn’t say anything, but Sydney could hear his shaky breath as he turned around, walking back the direction he had come. He’s not sure how long they had walked, and Randall was blindfolded, but he just had to pray. 

Once the boy was out of earshot, Shane decided to speak up, “Really think they’ll believe that? You over me?” 

Sydney could have laughed at him. “I’ve known this group for a couple weeks and I bet they’d trust me with their lives over you any day.” He told the other, “How long you known Rick now? Face it, everyone knows you're off your rocker. You think just cause you were his best buddy then and you could order him around, that’s how it is now?” Shane must’ve been delusional. 

“I don’t think nothing.” The other said, “I trust Rick’s got my back.” 

“Then your nuts.” He shot back, ignoring the ache he felt in his arm from holding it up for so long. He didn’t dare waver, not for a second, not showing weakness. “So what you guys were best friends?” He couldn’t help but mock the other, “First you got with his wife the moment you thought he was out of the picture, probably knocked her up, tried to fight him, always undermining him— Honestly I could probably keep going but I won’t.” 

Shane said nothing but a scoff, but he could tell what he said had gotten to him. 

“I don’t know what happened to you, Shane.” Sydney said, trying to avoid the remorse that bled into his voice when he spoke, thinking of how the man had used to be. They weren’t even acquainted in the past, but he knew enough to know that Shane had been a good man. Had being the key word. 

Shane squinted at him, “The dead came back to the living and tried to eat us is what happened to me.” 

He supposed there really wasn’t any other answer. 

He hadn’t been there since the start, he hadn’t been around to see the descent to madness that had happened to Shane. But he can’t suppose he was always all that well in the head, seeing as he got together with Lori the moment he thought that Rick was out of the picture. Good people definitely don’t do that. 

Sometimes you’re desperate.  

All of a sudden, behind him, he heard the faint snap of a twig, and it was barely noticeable. For a second his brain told him not to look, knowing it would be bad, but by the way Shane’s eyes for just a moment lingered to something behind him he knew that he had to. By the time he had tilted his head to the side, he finally got a glimpse of what was lurking behind him— it was a walker, who Shane definitely had seen coming from nearly a mile away, maybe hoping that Sydney wouldn’t notice. “Shit.” Sydney cursed, pulling his hatchet out, trying to focus both on the living person and the dead one. He swiftly buried the weapon into the walker's forehead just as its gangly arms reached out to him, letting it drop to the ground along with his hatchet buried inside its skull.

Where the fuck had that thing come from?

He turned his head back, to put his full attention back on Shane, but instead of the man standing as far back as he was before, he got a rush of blurry movement towards him. He let out a surprise yell, and before he had even known, he had pulled the trigger in a panic on the gun, a deafening noise ringing throughout the forest and leaving him a bit disoriented. He wasn’t even sure if he had hit the other, because Shane’s fist connected with his face, a noticeable crack being heard as he stumbled and landed on the ground. 

It wasn’t a second later that he realized that the gun had been knocked from his hand, landing a couple feet away, and it seemed that Shane had realized it too. He forced himself to focus, a burning pain coming from his nose as he tried to centre himself. Shane moved for the gun, but Sydney was but a second earlier to instead stand up, pretending that the entire world didn’t spin as he did so, and throwing his entire body weight at Shane.

The other must not have expected it, because he let out a grunt as he fell to the ground— but taking the smaller man with him. His fall was cushioned by Shane’s body below him, allowing him to be less taken aback by being on the ground for the second time. 

He scrambled for the gun, and his fingertips barely brushed it before he felt a hand wrap around his ankle and pull him back, face smacking against the ground as Shane pulled him back. “Fuck.” He hissed in pain, feeling blood pour from his nose and dripping on his chin and the ground below him. 

Sydney kicked at Shane with his free foot, and got enough momentum to actually land a hit on Shane’s face, using all his force in an attempt to disorient the other. 

“Stop fucking everything up.” Shane grunted at him, grip slipping on the other’s ankle after the hit had landed on him. 

“Stop trying to kill people!” He screamed back at the other, once again going for the gun, but he had enough brain cells to know that he wouldn’t be able to pull the trigger before Shane could grab him again. His fingers wrapped around the handle of the gun, but just as Shane’s hands were on him again, he had picked a direction and threw the weapon as far as he could, out of sight. 

Sydney wasn’t stupid, there was no winning this fight. But he prayed, in the back of his mind, that Randall could make it back to the farm before Shane could. 

It wasn’t long before Shane had his hands around Sydney’s throat, squeezing at his windpipe as he pressed the others back into the ground. The brunette clawed at Shane’s hands in defense, but it really was no use, the other having a weight gain on him and a strength gain. Shane wasn’t giving up for anything, because they both knew what would happen if Sydney was given the chance to get back to the farm and open his mouth.

Of course, how could Shane know that it wouldn’t matter either way? 

As black dots began to blur his vision, he gave up on clawing at the other’s wrists, instead trying to grab anything around him, hands scrambling along the leaves and dirt clogging up underneath his nails. He felt panic, panic for his life that was draining away, and despite his circumstances, he doesn’t think he could ever push away that feeling. 

A rock brushed his fingertips, and he wasn’t sure how big or heavy it was, but it didn’t matter, because he used his last strength to smash it against the side of Shane’s head. 

Air filled his lungs at a rapid pace, and he struggled to suck it in as fast as he could, his hand coming up to touch the tender skin around his neck. He wheezed and coughed, the world blurring around him as he struggled to gain any sort of upper hand on Shane. The rock had stunned him that’s for sure, but Sydney had certainly never been almost strangled to death before, struggling to even sort himself out long enough to do anything. Between blurry vision and the spinning world, he noticed the dead walker close to him, the hatchet still sticking out from his skull. 

He wheezed in pain, but he managed to find the time to grab at the head of the hatchet and pull it out, fast enough that the handle of the weapon smashed Shane in the face as he leered behind him. He cried out in surprise, and both pain as the weapon slipped and sliced the palm of his right hand open, and he dropped the hatchet in surprise. 

At this point, Shane had recovered enough to grab at Sydney again, and the smaller male let out a choked, and broken laugh, at the blood pouring from the side of Shane’s head and his nose. He had probably broken it. 

“What’s so funny?” Shane asked him.

It hurt, to make any sort of noise, or even try to speak. It burned, and he’s sure that Shane had nearly crushed his windpipe. “You’ll never get away with this.” He told him, trying to sound at least a bit confident with his scratchy voice. 

Shane seemed to be cradling his head, hands holding him in place as he looked down at the other, “You won’t be around to say nothing, so I wouldn’t worry about it.”

He wanted to laugh again, but it hurt too much. 

“That baby won’t ever be yours.” He bit out at the other, one last remark to get back at him. It seemed to work, as a dark look flooded through Shane’s eyes.

Sydney didn’t get to say another word though, as Shane had twisted his hands enough to snap his neck. 

“Syd, they need you upstairs, something about a broken computer.” A voice called out to him, and the brunette who had been slumped over at his desk shot up, startled. 

“Huh, what?’ He said in confusion, pushing his hair back instinctively, despite there being almost nothing to push back because he had recently got a haircut. He was wearing a pair of black dress pants, a white button up that was tucked into his pants and a black tie to pull the outfit together. He was not a person to dress up, but he supposed it was worth it if it meant he had a job. 

The person who spoke to him looked amused, eyebrows raised at him, “Computer. Upstairs. Fix.” They said slower, before they turned on their heels and walked off. 

He scrubbed at his face to rid himself of the sleep, before he stood up from his chair, letting out a small sigh as he moved towards the door to the stairs. They always got calls from upstairs, the Sheriff’s department, that a computer was broken or something was wrong with it, but in reality something was just not plugged in right or they had accidentally put their computer in a different mode. 

He supposed it wasted time though. 

By the time he had gotten upstairs, he scanned the busy room, all the uniforms that were sitting at their desk and doing paperwork, or scanning for information about a case. Maybe he should have asked whose computer he was fixing. He didn’t really know many of them by name, he hadn’t been there that long, and they usually rotated who went upstairs to deal with the broken computers or laggy printers. 

“You from IT?” He turned towards the voice, and he just nodded his head in response.

They pointed to a desk that wasn’t too far from where he was standing, where a man in a uniform was sitting, frustratingly looking down at his computer. Well, that should’ve been easy to spot.

He moved over to the man, stopping short in front of his desk, “You called about a broken computer?” He asked, staring down at the plate that was sitting on the edge of the desk.

Shane Walsh. 

“Yeah man, not sure what’s wrong with it.” The other chuckled, leaning back in his chair, brushing a hand through his dark hair. 

Sydney glanced at the computer, scanning over the words that were filling up the screen. “Did you try turning it on and off?” He questioned. 

Shane looked at him like he was ridiculous, or as if he thought that he was stupid, before a look came over his face. “Uh… no, actually.” He admitted. 

The brunette moved around the desk, and ducked down to turn off the power bar that the computer was connected to. They both watched as the screen for the computer went dark.

He counted to ten in his head, before he switched the power bar back on, watching as the switch lit up red.

The computer made a soft humming noise as it came to life, a blue screen popping up with words written at the top. Sydney squinted for a moment, before he leaned over Shane and pressed the enter key on the keyboard. The screen switched from blue to black, and just as the officer looked like he was about to say something— the computer booted up, the department's logo on the desktop. 

“There you go.” Sydney told him, stepping away from the desk. 

Shane had the decency to look slightly embarrassed, rubbing the back of his head, “Thanks man, I don’t really know much about computers and shit. Always worried I’ll break it with one wrong button.”

“No problem.”

Glenn, was to say the least, terrified out of his mind. When Shane had come stomping back into camp, blood trickling down his face and carrying more than a couple injuries, he was scared. They knew that Randall had escaped, slipped the cuffs because they were still attached to the wall, but they hadn’t figured out how he had gotten out of the barn, locked from the outside. Slipped through the rafters, Shane had said. 

The injured man had said Randall had gotten the jump on him with a rock, telling the group that he saw Sydney chasing after the teenage boy before he blacked out. It hadn’t been too long ago that they had heard a gunshot ring throughout the forest and echoing too the farm, before Shane had returned, but no one had time to think as the rest of the group was ushered into the house as Shane, Rick, Daryl and Glenn had set off looking for both Sydney and Randall. Glenn had been relieved when he had gotten paired with Daryl, the skilled hunter, anything would have been better than getting stuck with Shane.

The sun had quickly set, leaving them in darkness, and Glenn made sure to keep a tight grip on his machete, holding the flashlight in his other hand. He trailed behind Daryl, letting the crossbow wielding man lead the way, knowing he was better at tracking than anyone else in this group. 

Daryl let out an annoyed sigh, “This is pointless. You got a light?” Glenn handed over the flashlight to the other, who clicked it on, scanning the surrounding area. Nothing to be seen. The redneck seemed to let out another irritated sigh, gesturing for Glenn to follow, “Come on.”

They walked for a little while longer, but Glenn just felt like they were getting nowhere, as he walked behind Daryl who shined the flashlight at the ground as he walked. He knew he was jumpy, getting a little scare when he heard  twig snap even though it was him who had stepped on it.

Eventually, Glenn got fed up and broke the silence, “We’re just back to square one.”

The light moved up, pointing farther ahead. “If you’re gonna do a thing, you might as well do it right.” Daryl sniffed, “There’s three sets of tracks right here. Shane must’ve followed them a lot longer than he said. And these two are right on top of each other, Sydney wasn’t chasing him.” Glenn attempted to wrap his head around this new-found information. 

“More tracks.” Daryl called out to him, staring down at the ground.

He moved to follow, but his foot brushed up against something hard on the ground. “Shit!” He immediately said, jumping away from whatever it was.

“What?” Daryl turned back towards him.

“I felt something.” He said nervously, waiting for Daryl to point the flashlight in his direction before he realized what it was. He pulled the object from underneath some fallen leaves, producing a gun to show Daryl. “It’s Sydney’s.” Glenn said, a queasy feeling settling in his stomach. 

They walked a little farther, before Daryl stopped abruptly, and Glenn bumped into him in surprise. “Sorry.” He muttered.

“Look.” The other said, and Glenn realized why he had stopped, staring down at the dead walker that was laying on the ground, skull bashed in by some sort of weapon. Daryl crouched down, and when he stood back up, he was holding a hatchet.

Sydney’s, and there was blood covering the blade of the weapon. “What the hell happened here?” Glenn uneasily spoke, eyes straining to see anything in the darkness.

Daryl had tucked the hatchet away, but didn’t say anything, flashlight doing another sweep of their surroundings. Fortunately enough, it revealed another body a couple feet away, turned on its side and facing away from them.

“Is that…?” Glenn asked, even though he already knew the answer to the question, recognizing the back of the person even in this light. 

The other gestured for Glenn to check it out, despite the younger man wanting to do anything but, feet shuffling through the leaves as he approached the body. He felt like he was holding his breath, gripping his machete so hard his knuckles turned white, crouching down next to the lifeless body. His free hand reached for the shoulder, and he slowly turned the body to face him. He thought he heard a faint snap when he turned him, but he brushed it off entirely. “Oh fuck.” He said, his worst fears confirmed as he immediately recognized it to be Sydney, nose out of place and dried blood covering his lips and chin, and some spots had landed on his shirt. 

Glenn turned to Daryl, “You think Randall did this?”

Daryl didn’t get a chance to respond, because when Glenn had turned back to face Sydney, the others' eyes were opened and he screamed in surprise, falling back. The other seemed to rush to help, hovering over Sydney and Glenn, flashlight shining over the bloodied face of the other as he squinted at the harsh light. “Shit, he’s alive.” Daryl said, somewhat surprised. 

Glenn scrambled to join Daryl, hovering over Sydney, “Sydney? Can you hear us? Can you walk?” He asked, but after a moment, the other seemed to be slightly unfocused with his surroundings. 

“Take this.” Daryl grunted, handing the flashlight to Glenn and hiking his crossbow up on his shoulder, before he leaned down and scooped up the man on the ground. He made it look almost effortless, but Glenn is sure that if he had tried he would have dropped Sydney. “Let’s get back.” The redneck added, hefting the brunette up in his arms to get more grip, turning back towards the way they had come from, letting Glenn light up the way this time. 

It was silent for the next couple minutes, as they walked, and all that could be heard was Sydney’s ragged breathing. His nose made a soft whistling noise occasionally when he breathed, and Glenn figured that it was broken. 

“It was Shane.” Sydney cut through the silence, voice cracking slightly, but from what Glenn wasn’t sure.

“What was?” Glenn said, from behind them, but he felt like he already knew the answer.

More heavy breathing. “Let Randall out, was gonna kill him. I followed them.” The smaller male paused, wheezing softly, “I helped Randall get away, but Shane got me. Tried to kill me.” There was a heavy pause as the other two took in this information, but Glenn had a feeling that Daryl wasn’t too surprised by the revelation.

Glenn found he wasn’t either. 

“Did he make it back? Randall?” Glenn heard Sydney ask Daryl, could see his head tilted up to look at the redneck.

Daryl didn’t say anything, and kept walking, and that was his answer. 

In the distance, a gunshot went off. 

Chapter Text

It didn’t take long for them to get back to the farm, despite Daryl having to carry Sydney from the forest all the way back to the house, who had spoken another word after he had explained to them what had happened. Was he in shock? It was something he couldn’t exactly figure out, his entire body ached, especially his neck, and it was getting harder to breathe out of his nose. 

He realized when they had entered through the front door, a bunch of voices filling the air, the two most recognizable being both Andrea and Lori. What the hell was going on?

“What the hell happened to him?”

“Shane, apparently.” It was Daryl, who was still cradling Sydney in his arms, probably unsure of where to put him down. “We heard a shot.” He added.

“Rick and Shane aren’t back?”

“No, where’s Randall?”

“Sydney asked if he made it back to the farm, said Shane tried to kill Randall then him.”

The brunette finally decided to open his eyes again, having squeezed them shut before, the light almost blinding him when he looked up past Daryl and at the ceiling. At this point, he just wanted to sleep, but he knew that wasn’t going to be happening anytime soon. 

There were footsteps coming closer towards them, “Would you please get back out there, find Rick and Shane, and find out what on earth is going on?” Lori pleaded.

“You got it.” Daryl began to move, presumably to the couch, which was confirmed when he felt something soft below him when the redneck had finally put him down.

He didn’t think before doing so, reaching out and grabbing onto Daryl’s arm just as he pulled away. “He’ll kill him.” He said, fear trickling into his voice, “That’s why he did this.”

No one said anything, but Daryl just gave him a nod, before he pulled his crossbow down into his arms and turned away from him. 

He watched him go, but by the time the other had reached the door, there was a soft knock at the door. Sydney sat up faster than he probably should have, because he immediately wanted to be sick, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. “Shit, get in here.” Daryl grunted, grabbing the person who was on the other side of the door, and he heard a panicked squawk as Randall stumbled into the room. 

Randall. 

“Oh thank god.” Sydney could have cried, seeing the teenage boy, having lost the hope he had that the other was going to make his way back to the farm. It occurred to them that they probably both looked like shit, Randall with his limp and bruised and beaten face, Sydney covered with his own blood and crooked nose. 

Randall looked nervous, as he stared around the room at the others, the ones who had voted to kill him not that long ago, and the guy who had beat on him. “I’m sorry, I tried to get back, and—” He stuttered.

Sydney was relieved, he didn’t care how he got here all he cared was that he made it back relatively safe. “It’s fine, Randall.” He told the boy, “I’m just glad you’re here.”

He had actually done it, he had saved the kid— had stopped him from being executed, saved him from being killed in cold blood by Shane.

“Got something of yours.” Glenn spoke up from beside him, and when the brunette looked over he noticed the other was holding both his hatchet and his gun.

Sydney laughed, grabbing both of his weapons, “Thanks, thought they were goners.” He got up from the couch, steadying himself quickly. He tucked the hatchet and the gun back into its original places, where they belong. He paused for a moment, before he grabbed Glenn by the arm, “I need a favour.” 

The other male looked at him, confused, “Yeah, sure. What?” 

“Fix my nose.” 

“What?!” 

“I can barely breathe right now, so seriously, fix my nose.” He repeated his request to the other. 

Glenn stared at him. 

“Oh, for Christ’s sake.” Maggie had stalked over to them, having probably realized very quickly that her boyfriend would probably faint if he had to set Sydney’s nose back in place. “Let me.” She sighed, and the brunette didn’t even have time to say something before she had placed her fingers over the bridge of his nose and pulled , a satisfying crack echoing from him as he let out a gasp of both pain and of satisfaction as air flooded in easily through his nose. It burned, but it was better than being broken. 

Someone tapped him on the shoulder and he turned his head, noticing Patricia, holding a wet rag for him. Oh yeah, all the blood that was on his face. “Thanks.” He told her, taking the cloth from her as she gave him a little nod. He rubbed at his mouth and chin, trying to scrub away as much blood as he could despite knowing that it would stain because of how long he had left it. It only took him a few moments, being extra careful of his sensitive nose before he discarded the now bloodied rag. 

He tried to ignore how messed up Randall’s face looked at the moment, knowing it wasn’t the time to be coddling the teenager, especially with a psycho on the loose. 

All of sudden, Lori came ripping back through the front door— he hadn’t realized a couple of them had gone outside, but she had wasted no time practically sprinting up the stairs. The others outside came back in as well, Andrea, Daryl and Hershel. 

“What’s going on?” Glenn asked.

“A herd. And a big one. It’ll rip down the entire house at this rate, we gotta go.” Daryl spoke, and Sydney was surprised at how well the other was at keeping calm, “Grab your shit.”

“Kill the lights.” Sydney heard Hershel whisper to Patricia, who quickly moved to follow his orders.

Sydney felt a presence next to him, and he looked beside him, seeing Sophia— christ, he had actually forgotten about her until this very moment. He felt bad, but really, he had more important things on his mind than wondering how the little girl was doing, he knew that she would be safe with the rest of the adults. 

Lori appeared around the corner, a terrified look on her face, “Carl’s gone.”

“What?” Daryl said almost immediately in response.

“He— he was upstairs. I can’t find him anywhere.” 

“Maybe he’s hiding?” Glenn implored hopefully.

Lori swung her eyes around the room, looking almost wild, “He’s supposed to be upstairs. I’m not leaving without my boy.”

Carol, who he had also forgotten was a person, had stepped forward, a small smile on her face, resting a comforting hand on the taller woman. “We’re not. We’re gonna look again, okay? We’re gonna find him.” She comforted Lori.

Sydney glanced at Randall, “You stay close to me, okay? Still got Shane’s gun?” He questioned, waiting until the other had nodded his head dumbly, still looking a little lost, before he turned his attention to the little girl who hadn’t moved from his side. “Go get your stuff.” He told her, “Don’t be scared.” He watched as she took off up the stairs, before he glanced around the room, spotting his bag in the corner. It hadn’t moved from where he had last left it, so he scooped it up quickly and slipped it around his shoulders. He clipped the bag across his chest to secure it, just as Andrea returned with the bag of guns.

Sophia had returned just as quick as she had left, a small pink bag attached to her back, just as Daryl spoke up, “Let’s go.”

The majority of the group had migrated outside, leaving Carol, Sophia, Patricia and Lori inside. Maggie had begun digging around inside the bag, handing guns left and right to whoever had their hands open. Everyone got handed extra ammunition, anything really, by the time Maggie was finished she didn’t leave anything in the bag. That about summed up the situation. Sydney ended up with another gun, a revolver of some sort, and didn’t bother complaining about the fact he now possessed two guns— the more the merry in this situation.

He stared out at the horde that was approaching rapidly, and as far as the eye could see, it was walkers upon walkers. Daryl was right, there was no way the house would survive something as big as this.

“This is no use.” Daryl reiterated to the others, looking from the fields and back to them.

Hershel had gotten ahold of a shotgun, tucking shells into his pockets and wherever they would fit, “You can go if you want.”

“You planning on killing them all?” Sydney butted in, looking from the amount of people they had and how many walkers there were. There was no way.

“We have guns. We have cars.” Hershel defended.

Andrea cleared her throat, “Kill as many as we can, and we’ll use the cars to lead the rest of them off the farm.”

Daryl looked at them like they were crazy, and honestly, Sydney agreed. “Are you serious?” He asked them.

“This is my farm. I’ll die here.” Hershel told the redneck, without an ounce of doubt in his voice. 

Fuck.

“All right then. It’s as good a night as any.” Daryl shrugged, propping himself on top of the railing to pull himself over the step and onto the ground. “Andrea and T-Dog you take the truck, Maggie and Glenn together in the Hyundai, … and Jimmy in the RV.” He had glanced around at the vehicles they had, and right now Sydney was grateful that they had moved them so close to the house. 

“Jimmy is going on his own?” Sydney quizzed, and he had reached out and squeezed Randall’s arm. 

The redneck turned back to look at Sydney, and then at Randall, a soft squint to his eyes. “The kid can go with him.” He said finally, before he stalked off, presumably to his motorcycle. 

It was nice to see Daryl fall into the leadership role while Rick was missing, and Sydney knew for a fact it was better than anything Shane could have done. He tried to not think of where Shane and Rick had gone off to, or what had happened, or where Carl was— he had to focus on what was in front of him first. 

“Sydney.” Randall muttered, almost fearfully. 

“I know, I know. It’s fine. Just go with Jimmy.” He gestured to the taller brunette, because he wasn’t even sure if the teenager knew who was who at this point, “You’ll be safe in the RV. Cover his back.” He patted the kid on the shoulder, “I won’t leave without you, I promise.”

That seemed to work for the other, who gave him one last look before he turned towards Jimmy, ready to follow him. Once everyone had paired off, it left both Hershel and Sydney on the step of the farmhouse. “You really gonna do this?” He asked the older man nervously. 

Hershel turned to look at him, a knowing look in his eyes, as he cocked the shotgun. “I’ve worked too hard to give up now.” He said forcefully. 

He stared off at the horizon, moon high in the sky as it gave off enough light to show him what was coming for him in the distance. Hundreds, maybe even thousands of walkers— he’d never seen so many at once, he doesn’t think any of them probably had. 

He thought, fearfully, that they would never be able to do this and get away with their lives.

Randall felt as if his entire body burned, his leg was in non stop pain no matter what he was doing and his face throbbed— his eye was still so swollen that he could barely see out of it. His wrists stung painfully, and he tried not to look at the cuts on them, from where the handcuffs had dug in and how the rope had done nothing but worsen the injury. It was hard to focus, he struggled to in fact, but he knew that he couldn’t let Sydney down if he wanted to stick around with this group. They had tried to execute him, one had tried to kill him, he was scared out of his mind and he missed his sister, but there was no going back now. 

His hands shook with both anxiety and fear, Shane’s gun held between his fingers as he situated himself in the passenger seat of the RV, and he briefly wondered what happened to the man that had tried to kill him. He prayed, and he felt so bad, but he prayed that he was dead— the teenager didn’t like to wish violence upon anyone, but he hoped that the man who had taken him into the forest had been eaten by a walker already. 

Jimmy, he’s pretty sure Sydney said his name was, had looked at him with a funny look in his eyes— maybe it was because he had seen what Randall had looked like. Though, how could he not know? He’s not sure how long he had been on the Greene farm, but it was long enough for people to know he was here. 

He supposed now wasn’t the time to think about it. 

The driver had finally stopped the vehicle after a couple rounds around the farm, the front of the RV facing towards this huge barn (he noticed it wasn’t the one he had been kept in). When the other had opened the window and stuck his arms out to begin shooting at some of the walkers that loomed too close to the RV, he figured that was what he was supposed to be doing as well. 

It felt like his hands shook more but he couldn’t be sure, fumbling with the gun and then proceeding to also fumble with opening the window. Randall stared out the window at all the walkers that were getting closer by the minute, and how no matter how far you looked it seemed like there was just more and more. 

He pointed the gun at the closest walker, and he knew immediately it was going to be harder to do this with one eye, especially when you’re used to two. The gun swayed in his hands as he let out a breath, squeezing the trigger and watched as the bullet only grazed the side of the head of the walker. 

Randall knew how to shoot, of course he did, Dave had basically shown him how to shoot every single gun they had at camp. 

He pointed again, sucked in a breath, and squeezed— this time he managed to actually hit the target, watching as the walker slumped to the ground. 

In the distance, he noticed finally, that the barn had caught on fire. It was up in flames by now, bursting through the top of the building as it slowly began to disintegrate and fall to the ground, caving in on itself. 

How had that happened? 

Suddenly, he heard a motorcycle approaching, engine revving. Fear creeped up the back of his neck, knowing it was the one who had beat on him— Daryl, he thought his name was. 

“Yo!” The voice of the man on the motorcycle shouted, and Randall looked over, to where Jimmy was sticking out of the window. “Must’ve been Rick or Shane who started the fire. Maybe they’re tryna get out back! Why don’t you circle around back?” He yelled at the brunette, over the loud noise of both his own vehicle and the groans and moans of the undead. 

Randall blinked as all of a sudden they began to move, pulling himself back inside and glancing at Jimmy. Please don’t be Shane , is what he thought to himself, he isn’t even sure what that man would do if he saw him still alive. Would he even care that death was surrounding them? Or would he just throw everything to the wind and go after Randall? He just had to pray, watching as Jimmy swerved around walkers that swung at the RV to no avail, almost tripping over themselves in an attempt to grab on to the side of the vehicle. 

They had rounded the corner, and immediately Randall spotted two figures on top of a platform that was in the barn. He recognized it to be Rick, and his son— the one who had come to visit him in the barn when he was tied up, the one who had walked in on them when Rick had put the gun to his head. Carl, he had said his name was. 

The man on top was shouting at them, gesturing to them wildly to place the RV below them, presumably so they can hop on. 

Jimmy wasted no time pulling up to where the other wanted, stopping the vehicle in its tracks. 

Randall nearly yelped as a walker banged against the door of the RV, and another one following pursuit— and he quickly realized that stopping might have been the worst mistake they could have made. Footsteps had landed heavily above them, and he knew that the two above had gotten off safely— but he couldn’t say the same for them. He looked in terror as walkers crowded around the RV, banging and growling as they clawed against the metal, jaws snapping hungrily. How long would it take before they would get in? The teenager looked around almost helplessly, before he noticed a small hatch on the ceiling, big enough for the two of them to fit through. “Look, there!” He pointed out to the other, standing up from his seat (ignoring the searing pain that shot through him) and moving towards their escape route. The ground below them shook with the sheer force of the undead outside, rocking against the available sides. 

“Can you lift me?” Jimmy questioned, looking over at him. 

Jimmy was taller than him, by a couple inches, but he thought perhaps the other was skinnier than him and weighed less. It made sense that Randall would be the one to lift him, but it wouldn’t work and he knew it. “I can’t, my leg, it’s— it’s messed up.” He explained, in a panic, as he glanced down at the makeshift bandage that was wrapped around his right leg. 

The other glanced down, acknowledged the injury, before he crouched down and folded his hands together. “Come on, we gotta hurry.” Jimmy’s point was emphasized as the RV rocked aggressively, and Randall quickly tucked his gun away so he could prepare himself to be lifted. 

He placed his uninjured leg in Jimmy’s hands, and he let out a shaky breath and prayed to god that the other could hold him up long enough so he could get through. His prayers were answered when he was pushed upwards, and he wasted no time in pushing on the hatch as hard as he could, and luckily it opened. Randall grunted in pain as he grasped at the roof of the RV, wiggling to pull himself up as Jimmy had let go of his foot, body burning even worse as he forced it to move in ways it did not want to. He gritted his teeth as his bad leg scraped against the ledge of the hatch, forcing himself to ignore it for now and work on getting Jimmy out. 

“Hurry! They’re about to get in!” Jimmy called out to him, which caused Randall to kick it into gear, leaning over the edge and holding his arm down. 

Don’t drop him, don’t drop him. He chanted to himself. 

As soon as he began to pull he heard the RV door give out, the slam of it falling off its hinges as the undead all at once tried to pour in to get at the living meat inside. He felt his bones almost shake as he pulled, grabbing Jimmy by both arms once his upper half had gotten above the hatch, and he didn’t stop until he was sure that it was impossible for the other to be grabbed any more. 

He wheezed with both pain and exhaustion, as Jimmy slammed the hatch door behind them, one hand trying to steady himself on the roof because of how much the vehicle was shaking.

Randall and Jimmy both looked at each other at the same time, and they both realized at the same time they still had to get off the RV and they weren’t out of the woods yet. 

“Hershel! Sydney! Come on, we need to go! Hershel!” Lori screamed over the banister of the step, hands planted firmly on the railing with a little girl practically strapped to her side. It looked as if Hershel hadn’t even heard her pleas for them to come, not swaying from cocking the shotgun and blasting it in the walker’s faces. Sydney has heard her, and turned his head and looked at Lori, eyes trailing to Sophia for just a moment before he glanced at Hershel— probably realizing the other didn’t seem to be going anywhere anytime soon. He took another look back at the girls on the step, looking as sorry as he could manage before he turned back to the wave of walkers with his gun raised. 

“Come on! Lori, we gotta go! We gotta go!” Carol shouted, grabbing at the other woman’s sleeve, tugging her away and pulling her closer to the others. Beth and Patricia were cowering behind her, hugging each other in fear. 

Sophia suddenly grabbed at Lori, tears in her eyes, “Why isn’t Sydney coming? Why isn’t he coming?” 

Lori looked down at the little girl, grabbing her hand, “He’s gotta help Hershel, okay? We need to leave now though.” She told her quickly, pulling her further away from the banister before she had time to protest. 

Carol must be so lucky to have a kid who doesn’t run off all the time , she thought almost miserably, praying that her son was safe and sound with his dad. She had searched the house from top to bottom with the help of the others, and there was not a sign of him, so she knew he had gone running off to help his daddy. God help her sometimes. 

“C’mon! Stay behind me, girls.” She told the others, her hand still grasping Sophia’s hand, making sure the other was a little behind her in case anything came from the front. 

Lori whipped her head around as she heard a blood curdling scream, in time to see a walker take a chunk out of the side of Patricia’s neck, the blonde girl still holding tightly onto Beth’s hand. Sophia screamed in terror, and Lori reached forward to grab onto Beth, using her only free hand to pull on the teenage girl with enough force to pull her from Patricia’s grasp. “No!” Beth sobbed as she was pulled away, not taking her eyes off the sight of the older woman being bitten into, chunks of flesh flying off of her as she fell to the ground, the walker following close after her. 

Where did Carol go? 

Lights flashed in her eyes and she blinked, squinting as she recognized the vehicle to be the one T-Dog and Andrea were driving, the blue truck stopping a couple feet from them and being thrown in park. The two quickly hopped out of the vehicle, the doors still wide open as T-Dog drew his gun and Andrea, who had been riding passenger, already had hers out. 

“Get in!” Andrea yelled at them, shooting any of the walkers that tried to surround them. 

“Dad!” Beth screamed, sounding like she was choking back a sob as she yelled in the direction she knew he was in, “Dad!” 

Lori looked around, “Go get Carol! She went that way!” She gestured with her head, looking at T-Dog. 

She noticed Sophia looking around fearfully, probably finally realizing that her mom actually wasn’t with them, squeezing Lori’s hand even tighter than she already was. “It’s okay, c’mon, get in the car!” She told the two girls she was holding onto, pulling them towards the car and urging them into the passenger seat and the middle seat. She closed the passenger door behind them, swinging around the other side of the truck and pulling her gun out— she looked ahead of her, watching as Andrea got cornered by a walker, the undead jumping on her and causing the blonde to fall to the ground. 

T-Dog and Carol were nowhere to be seen. 

She whipped around frantically, looking for a sign of anybody else, but all she saw was walkers for miles. Lori hopped in the truck alongside the other two, shutting the door harshly next to her as she pulled the vehicle out of park, throwing her gun into the dash. 

Something smacked against the back of the vehicle, and she turned her head, but instead of a walker, it was Jimmy and Randall. They had practically thrown themselves into the bed of the truck, as walkers followed quickly after them and gunshots were heard as they frantically shot the ones that were attempting to grab at them in the back of the truck. “Go, go, go!” Jimmy shouted at them, his hand smacking against the glass window that separated the two groups of people. 

Lori didn’t need to be told twice, slamming her foot on the gas, turning the wheel sharply and hoping that the two in the back could avoid being grabbed. It seemed to work in some way, Jimmy’s head smashing most certainly painfully against the side of the truck, but the walker that had been attempting to grab him missed because of the sudden jolt. 

She was forced to zig zag in odd ways, clumps of walkers in her path as she sped off, trying to ignore the cries of the two girls beside her. 

Sydney had felt bad, the minute he saw the look on Sophia’s face when he didn’t immediately move to follow them— but what was he supposed to do? Hershel wasn’t moving, even as the walkers kept coming and coming, and he wasn’t ready to abandon the farm owner just yet. He switched between using the gun or using his hatchet, putting the sharp weapon between the walkers eyes and planting his foot on their chest and pushing them back from the weapon and onto the ground. He’s not sure how many more bullets Hershel had, but he was currently acting like he had an infinite amount. He thought, somewhere behind him, he heard screaming but he didn’t pay too much attention to it because he was scared that if he took his attention off what was in front of him, it would suddenly be too much. 

It was already, and quickly, becoming too much. 

He was covering Hershel as the older man reloaded his gun, pulling the trigger on whichever ones he deemed to be the closest. He turned to glance at Hershel, only to see a splash of blood covering the back of the older man’s head— for a second, he thought it was Hershel’s blood but that was quickly swept under the rug as he spotted a fresh looking walker beneath the feet of Rick and Carl. 

No Shane. 

“Where’s Lori?” Rick asked, “Did you see Lori?”

“I don’t know what happened, Rick. They just keep coming.” Hershel shot back, “It’s like a plague. They’re everywhere.” 

“Lori!” Rick shouted, “Did you see her?” 

“She was with Sophia, Carol, Beth and Patricia. They were looking for Carl but I think they decided they had to leave, I didn’t see them after that though.” Sydney spoke up, which seemed to catch the full attention of Rick, who he’s pretty sure hadn’t seen him up in till the point he spoke. 

The former sheriff looked at him with pure shock on his face, as if he didn’t believe that Sydney was real. He looked like he was going to say something, but he settled on, “We have to go.” He glanced at the kid beside him, “Find mom and the others.” He raised his arm, shooting a couple of the walkers who had gained some distance on them. 

“It’s my farm!” Hershel protested. 

Rick has grabbed the older man by the shirt, tugging him, “Not anymore! Let’s go!” 

Sydney followed after the other three quickly as they ran after one of the vehicles they had previously parked up closer to the farmhouse, watching as Carl yanked opened the passenger side door. “Carl, get in the back.” He told the boy, grabbing the second door next to that one, allowing Carl to climb in the back before he did. He turned, shot the walker that had gotten dangerously close to him, before he hurriedly undid the clip for his backpack and tossed it in next to Carl— and didn’t waste anymore time climbing in after him, slamming the door shut behind him. The other two adults didn’t hesitate either, Hershel seemingly got some sense back as they piled into the vehicle, Rick hitting the gas just as all the doors shut. 

The brunette turned and stared out the back window, watching in the distance at how high the flames of the barn had gotten, ready to collapse at any moment. Walkers had completely flooded the entire farm, some of them having slowly begun walking to where the car had taken off to— they would never catch up, but Sydney still stared at them until they were no longer in sight. 

Daylight had struck by the time they had pulled up to a long stretch of a highway, and he stared out the window at the abandoned cars— some completely empty, others with rotting corpses of the people who once owned them. “Where the hell are we?” He asked the others in the car, wondering what had brought them here, where they were now stopping. 

“We stopped here before, a herd passed through and that’s when we lost Sophia. Left a couple things for her, figured this’ll be the first place the group will check.” Rick cleared his throat, his eyes meeting Sydney’s through the mirror. He still wondered why Rick was acting so strangely with him, the look he gave him back at the farm, what had happened to Shane. 

Well, he guessed this place was as good as any to stop, looking pretty much like a ghost highway. Once the two in front had gotten out, he followed, Hershel having opened the door for him and Carl out. He left his bag in the car, figuring they wouldn’t be just abandoning the car yet. 

“Wait, where’s mom? You said she’d be here!” Carl had searched the surrounding area, his accusing voice turning on his father, “We— we gotta go back for her.” 

Rick had crouched down to his son’s height, “Carl—“

Hershel and Sydney were forced to stand by as they spoke, listening to them. 

“No. Why are we running? What are you doing? It’s— it’s mom. We need to get her and not be safe a mile away!” 

“Carl, shh. You need to be quiet, all right? Please.” Rick had lowered his voice, looking around. 

“Please… it’s mom.” The little boy begged. 

Rick looked regretful, “Look, Carl, listen—“

“No.” 

They watched as the boy stormed off, though it wasn’t as if he could go very far, stopping by the vehicle and turning his back to them. 

Sydney was about to walk back to the vehicle, when he felt a hand on his arm, and suddenly he was being tugged a couple feet farther from where he was standing— farther from the ear shot of Hershel. He was then face to face with Rick, who he hadn’t realized until now was covered in blood, all down the side of his head and neck and his hands as well. It was long dried and stained to him, but he didn’t seem to care too much of it at the moment. 

“Where is Shane?” Sydney asked him immediately, being sure to keep his voice low to not attract any attention of the undead or of Hershel. 

Rick looked at him, “I took care of it.” 

Sydney felt a jolt of shock go through him, as if he didn’t believe it, but he should have expected it— Shane never would have let the two of them leave the farm alive. He stared more intensely at the blood that was covering Rick, realizing more than likely it was probably his own best friends blood. “When they said he went with you to look for Randall… I knew— I knew he was gonna try and kill you.” It hadn’t been hard to put together, anybody with a brain could have done it, “You did what you had to do.” 

“Shane said he killed you.” 

Sydney almost choked on his own saliva, and he glanced over to where Hershel and Carl were, but it was obvious the other two were too far away to hear anything. “I-“ He opened his mouth to say something, but he closed it, realizing he didn’t have anything to say to that. 

“Said he snapped your neck, after you saved Randall.” Rick continued, “He seemed pretty sure of himself.” 

He didn’t know what to say, heart thumping in his chest, wondering what he was supposed to say in this situation. Why would Shane have lied to Rick about killing him, to get a reaction out of him? That wouldn’t make any sense, Sydney was a new addition to the group, not someone loved by all. The hard truth was Shane wouldn’t have made it up, and you don’t snap someone’s neck and they survive something like that. 

No one had ever confronted him about it, no one had ever gotten close to even figuring out that he was some sort of immortal freak. Why couldn’t Shane just die and take his secrets with him? 

Rick’s eyes were practically burning a new hole into him, and all he wanted to do was melt into the ground and get away from this conversation. “I don’t know what you want me to say.” Sydney answered, weakly. 

“An explanation? An excuse?” The taller man interrogated him. 

“I don’t have one.” He snapped.

“Okay. Come, come, come, come.” Rick whispered to them as the walker stumbled past on the other side of their car, gesturing for them to crowd behind the side it had just come from as it continued to stumble down the highway. It hadn’t been the first one for them to stumble upon, deciding it would be safer to just let them pass by instead of the chance of accidentally causing a ruckus. 

“I don’t know how much longer we can stay here.” Hershel whispered from beside him, to Rick who was on the other side of the vehicle, watching as the walker stumbled into the distance. 

Carl looked up at his father, “I— I’m not leaving without mom.” He declared. 

Sydney didn’t want to leave either, he really didn’t, but it’s not like they could stay on the highway for the rest of the day and night. They couldn’t just keep hiding from the walkers that were most certainly going to keep passing by. He just wanted to know if everyone was okay, and he wasn’t willing to leave just yet. 

Rick turned his gaze to Hershel, who seemed to be the most insistent on leaving, “So we're just gonna walk away? Not knowing if my wife, your girls are still out there? How do we live with that?”

“You've only got one concern now— just one— keeping him alive.” Hershel pointed at the little kid between them all, “Nature may be throwing us a curveball, but that law is still true.”

The words seemed to get to Rick, a forlorn look washing over his face as he looked down at his son. He crouched down, to Carl’s height, “Carl.” He started, and Sydney stared off into the distance, wishing he didn’t have to hear Rick tell his son that they had to leave and lose the hope that they were going to find the rest of the group. “It’s not safe here, I’m sorry. We’ll—“ Rick paused, tilting his head. 

Why— Sydney was about to question, when all of a sudden, he heard it too— it was the sound of a motorcycle engine, and he stretched his neck to look above all the abandoned cars and at the other lane of the highway. Relief flooded through him as Daryl’s motorcycle came into view, holding him and Carol, followed shortly after by the Hyundai that Glenn and Maggie had been driving, and the blue truck he saw T-Dog and Andrea in back at the far. It became clear that some things had changed of course, quickly realizing some people were missing and not in the same place he had seen them last. 

As the cars pulled up, he realized Andrea and T-Dog were no longer even with the group— Lori having taken over driving the truck with Sophia and Beth. And… Jimmy and Randall? He noticed the two teenagers in the bed of the truck, Jimmy seemingly nursing a head wound from god knows what and Randall looking a little worse for the wear. 

He watched as everyone reunited with their respective friends and family, Maggie and Beth running to meet their dad who they had probably thought they permanently left on the farm, Jimmy moving to join them, Sophia hugging her mom the moment the woman had pulled herself off of Daryl’s bike, Lori hugging her son and her husband. He realized Randall had made his way over to him, and he opened his mouth to say something to the teen, but he was cut off when the boy practically threw his arms around him, pulling him close in a tight hug. 

Now that, he hadn’t been expecting. Sydney paused, before he returned the hug, patting Randall on the back comfortingly. 

After Randall pulled away, he watched as Rick clapped Daryl on the back with a soft chuckle, “Where’d you find everyone?” 

“Well, those guys' tail lights zigzagging all over the road— figured he had to be Asian, driving like that.” Daryl retorted, tilting his head in Glenn’s direction. 

Glenn rolled his eyes, “Good one.” 

Daryl’s eyes scanned the people around him, “Where’s the rest of us?”

“We’re the only ones who made it so far.” Rick answered. 

“Shane?” Lori questioned.

Sydney felt Randall tense up next to him, which honestly he’s sure he would’ve done too if he hadn’t already known the fate that Shane had met. He watched as Rick answered with a stiff shake of his head, and he wondered if the other was going to tell them that he had been the one to kill Shane. 

“Andrea?” 

Carol had been holding onto Sophia, but had released the girl to go stand next to Lori, resting a comforting hand on her arm. “Andrea saved me, then I lost her.” She said. 

“I saw her go down.” Lori responded, before she glanced at Carol, “What about T-Dog?” 

“They got him too, they grabbed him—“ Carol explained. 

Hershel turned his attention on his daughters, “Patricia?” 

He watched as Beth began to almost shake, 

“They got her too, took her right in front of me. I was— I was holdin' onto her daddy. She just—“ She broke off into sob, as Maggie hugged her closer. 

“What happened to the RV?” Sydney decided to inquire, looking over at Jimmy. 

Jimmy seemed startled to be asked a question, “It got overrun. We had to ditch it.” He looked at where the other teenager was standing next to Sydney, “Randall probably saved my life with his quick thinking, he got us out of there.” 

Some of the group seemed to actually notice that Randall was there, a mixture of responses floating across everyone’s faces as it finally set in. The boy they had tried to execute, that had been beaten on their watch, and almost murdered in cold blood by Shane had basically worked his way into the group. It had been the least of everyone’s worry that Randall was still around, but Sydney wasn’t going to give anyone any time to think about it. 

“He’s staying.” Sydney decided for them, he wouldn’t let them argue about it this time. “I didn’t almost get murdered to save his life for you people to think twice about letting him stay.” He informed them all, a glare in his eyes for anyone who decided to go up against him. 

Rick had met his eyes for a split second, and for once, the other looked as if he was definitely not going to object to letting the kid stay. 

Maybe, because they both knew Sydney had been killed by Shane in an attempt to save Randall’s life. 

No one said anything for a couple minutes, before Rick broke the tense silence, “We gotta keep moving. There have been walkers crawling over here.” 

“Head east.” Daryl proclaimed, “Stay off the main roads.” He had gotten off his motorcycle, a walker that had come into view probably had gotten his attention. It was the same walker that Sydney and them had avoided not too long ago. “The bigger the road, the more walkers, more assholes like this.” He grunted, lining his crossbow scope up with the walker's head, “I got him.” 

Thankfully, it turned out that even after ditching the truck that Lori had arrived in (it was out of gas), they still had enough seats for everyone. Just enough, in fact. There were thirteen of them all together, and with six seats in the Silverado, five seats in the Hyundai and two on Daryl’s bike— it worked out perfectly. A little too perfectly for everyone except Sydney though, because he quickly realized who he would be riding with when everyone had immediately picked which vehicle they were going in. Rick and his family obviously went together, Carol and Sophia, and Hershel were all in the Silverado. Glenn, Maggie, Beth, Jimmy and Randall went in the Hyundai— and that just left Daryl and Sydney, with only one place for him to go. He had to leave his bag in the original car he was in, tossing it in the trunk before they set off. 

He didn’t outwardly complain though, climbing on behind Daryl who just rolled his eyes in response, as Sydney gripped onto the seat below him for dear life as they began moving. It didn’t take long for him to grab onto the back of the rednecks jacket, but the other didn’t say anything about it, probably used to the action by now. 

He’s not sure how long they were driving for before they heard a honk from behind them, and Daryl slowed his bike to a stop to see what the problem was. Sydney watched as everyone piled out of the vehicles, and Daryl shut the engine off, prompting him to hop off the bike. 

“You out?” Daryl called out to Rick. 

“Running on fumes.” Sydney couldn’t help but notice how irritated the other looked, a tense look on his face. 

Maggie looked around, they were practically in the middle of nowhere, exposed, “We can’t stay here.” 

“There’s too many of us for one car.” Sydney pointed out. They weren’t going anywhere unless on foot without more gas. 

Rick scrubbed a hand over his face, gun drawn, “We’ll have to make a run for some gas in the morning.” 

“Spend the night here?” Carol exclaimed in surprise. 

Carl, who was standing next to his mother, rubbed at his arms— he had gotten a sweater, a red one, but he still seemed cold, “I’m freezing.” 

Rick slipped off his jacket and handed it to Lori, presumably to give to Carl. “We’ll build a fire, yeah?” She questioned. 

“You go out looking for firewood, stay close. Only got so many arrows.” Daryl glanced down at the remaining arrows, “How you doin’ on ammo?” He asked Rick. 

“Not enough.” 

“We can’t just sit here with our asses hanging out.” Maggie remarked. 

“Watch your mouth.” Her dad told her, as if she wasn’t a grown woman, “Everyone stop panicking and listen to Rick.” 

Sydney would hate to be the one who always had to make the decisions, and he’s glad he’s not in Rick’s position. The pressure would be immense, having a group of over ten people constantly looking to you to ask what they were going to do. “All right, we’ll set up a perimeter. In the morning, we’ll find gas and some supplies. We’ll keep pushing on.” He informed them. 

“Me, Glenn and Maggie could go try and make a run now, try and get some gas.” Sydney suggested, glancing at the other two.

“No.” Rick shot it down quickly, “God forbid something happens and people get stranded without a car.” 

“Rick, we’re stranded now.” Glenn pointed out. 

“I know it looks bad, we’ve all been through hell and worse, but at least we found each other. I wasn’t sure— I really wasn’t— but we did. We’re together. We keep it that way. We’ll find a shelter somewhere. There’s gotta be a place.” Rick tried to reason with them, but Sydney could tell the other was slipping, already agitated as it was. 

At some point, Sophia had come to stand beside him, and he noticed that she seemed just as cold as Car was, and she was now wearing a pink zip up sweater to try and fight the cold. He was glad that he had told her to grab her stuff, that some people had been able to get away from the farm with at least some of their stuff. He smiled down at her, satisfied when she returned it as well. 

“Rick, look around, okay? There’s walkers everywhere. They’re migrating or something.” Glenn argued back as he clutched the shotgun closer to his body. 

“There’s gotta be a place.” Rick told the group, “Not just where we hike up, but that we fortify, hunker down, pull ourselves together, build a life for each other. I know it’s out there. We just have to find it.” 

“Even if we do find a place and we think it’s safe, we can never be sure. For how long? Look what happened with the farm. We fooled ourselves into thinking that was safe.” Maggie butted in. 

“The farm wasn’t fortified. It was only good for so long because it was in the middle of nowhere.” Sydney felt the need to say. 

“We won’t make that mistake again.” Hershel said. 

Rick seemed to be fed up with the conversation, “We’ll make camp tonight over there—“ He pointed to a clearing in the forest beside them, where a concrete building used to be and a couple walls still remained intact, “Get on the road at the break of day.” 

Sydney heard Carol whisper to Daryl, “Does this feel right to you?” 

Beth spoke up for the first time, “What if walker’s come through, or another group like Randall’s?”

Sydney watched the boy in question visibly shrink at being mentioned, probably hoping that everyone would just forget that he was even there. 

“What the hell even happened with Randall and Shane?” Lori inquired. 

Sydney was honestly exhausted at explaining at this point, “I saw Shane lead Randall into the woods, so I followed them. I held Shane at gunpoint and told him to let him go, and he did, and I sent Randall back to the farm but he got lost.” He shuddered as he thought back to what had transpired the night before, “A walker distracted me and Shane got the upper hand, kicked the shit out of me before leaving to go sell his bullshit story to try and kill Rick.” 

“What happened to Shane?” Beth asked. 

Lori glanced at Rick, and guessed, “Herd got him?” 

Sydney realized Rick was looking at him, staring at him even, a look he didn’t recognize in his eyes. 

“We’re all infected.” 

“What?” Daryl immediately said in response, as Sydney felt like he had just been gut punched. 

“At the CDC, Jenner told me.” Rick explained, “Whatever it is, we all carry it. You die, you turn. Bite or not.” He looked at Sydney when he said it. 

“And you never said anything?” Carol angrily exclaimed. 

“Would it have made a difference?” Rick simply answered. 

“You knew this whole time?” Glenn spoke up this time, looking at the other in charge. 

“How could I have known for sure? You saw how crazy that mo—“

“That isn’t your call. Okay, when I found out about the walkers in the barn, I told, for the good of everyone.”

“Well, I thought it best that people didn’t know.” Rick stared Glenn down, which seemed to stop the other from saying anything, his eyes glancing over everyone’s as if to gauge their reactions and see if they were going to say anything. 

Nobody did. 

Rick turned around, walking off down the road and away from them. Sydney watched him go, feeling as if he was going to be sick. If he had anything in his stomach, he’s sure that he would have been. He pressed a hand down on his chest, wishing that somehow it would help the oxygen get into his lungs and he could breathe properly. It didn’t of course, his chest feeling tight as he tried to suck in a breath. “Oh fuck.” Sydney wheezed out, bending forward to put his hands on his knees, staring down at the paved road below him. 

“Sydney?” Sophia asked from beside him, sounding concerned. 

He didn’t answer, gasping softly as he tried to suck in air to no avail. It’s like his brain had shut off and all of a sudden he had forgotten how to breathe, how to move, feeling frozen in place. People were speaking, but all of a sudden all he could hear was white noise, ringing in his ears. 

We’re all infected. 

What did that mean? How was that impossible? How many times had he died now, even before the apocalypse? Was he somehow immune to whatever disease this was? If he didn’t turn when he was killed, how did it work when he was bitten? Would he turn? Or would he cheat that just like he cheats death? Too many questions. 

“Sydney? Sydney, you gotta breathe!” Someone was speaking to him but he couldn’t make out who yet, “Squeeze my hand and count with me.” He didn’t even think twice about grasping at the hand that came into view, squeezing their fingers tightly. 

The person started counting from one, and he forced himself to focus on what they were saying, the numbers they were saying. One, two, three, four, five— get to ten, start from the beginning. 

One. Two. Three. Four— 

The fire crackled around the group, a couple of them having picked up some wood and branches from the surrounding area. Everyone was huddled together respectively, and Sydney stared into the flames of the fire hoping that maybe it would have an answer to all his problems. 

Unfortunately, it didn’t. On one side he had Randall, whose shoulder was touching his, and on his other was Sophia, who was sitting next to her mother who was sitting next to Daryl, etc. Sydney had practically been sitting since he recovered from— whatever that was before— Randall having come to sit with him after he had used that odd counting trick on him. 

“Where did you learn that?” Sydney had asked him, after he could breathe properly again. 

“My sister.” He said without any more explanation. 

He hadn’t pried anymore, figuring that Randall’s sister was probably a touchy subject— after what little he had heard about her and the group Randall was with, he wasn’t sure what the chances are that she was alive or the chances that Randall would ever see her again. 

“We’re not safe with him—“ Sydney could hear Carol whisper to Daryl from his spot, and he tilted his head closer to hear her speak, “Keeping something like that from us. Why do you need him? He’s just gonna pull you down.” 

He felt a flare of anger shoot through him at the words, especially with everything Rick had done for everyone. Where would they be without him? If Shane had won and killed him? Would they rather Shane be the leader?

“No. Rick’s done all right by me.” Daryl told Carol. 

“You’re his henchman and I’m a burden. You deserve better.”

“Shut the hell up—“ Sydney snapped at Carol, completely catching the older woman off guard, who looked at him in surprise, “Just shut up.”

In the distance, a branch snapped, and it caught everyone’s attention. 

“What was that?” Beth said fearfully. 

Daryl tore his gaze from where it had been on Carol and Sydney, looking into the direction it had come from, “Could be anything. Raccoon, possum…” 

“Walker.” Glenn added. 

“We need to leave.” Carol stood up, “What are we waiting for?” 

“Which way did it come from?” 

“It came from over there.” 

“Back from where we came…” 

Sydney wished everyone would stop talking and just sit down. 

Rick had appeared from wherever he had gone off to, probably scouting the perimeter if he had to guess, “The last thing we need is for everyone to be running off in the dark. We don’t have the vehicles. No one is travelling on foot.” 

Everyone was standing at this point, except for Carl and Lori, and Randall who Sydney assumed just didn’t want to attempt to get up after he had sat down. He reminded himself that they had to get Hershel to look at his leg again, maybe try and find something for it. 

“Don’t panic.” Hershel told everyone. 

“I’m not— I’m not sitting here, waiting for another herd to blow through. We need to move, now.” Maggie insisted, 

“No one is going anywhere.” Rick harshly told them. 

Carol looked at him, “Do something!” 

That was what seemed to set Rick off, “I am doing something! I'm keeping this group together, alive. I've been doing that all along, no matter what. I didn't ask for this. I killed my best friend for you people for Christ's sake!” He ranted to them, and Sydney tried to ignore how Carl burst into tears, sobbing as his mother cradled him to her chest. “You saw what he was like, how he pushed me, how he compromised us, how he threatened us. He staged the whole Randall thing, tried to kill one of our own, led me out there to put a bullet in my back. He gave me no choice. He was my friend, but he came after me.” Everyone was silent now, not daring to say anything, even if Sydney had something he wanted to say— he wouldn’t, not after seeing how worked up the leader was now. 

“My hands are clean.” Rick began again, “Maybe you people are better off without me. Go ahead. I say there’s a place for us, but maybe— maybe it’s just another pipe dream. Maybe— maybe I’m fooling myself again. Why don’t you— why don’t you go find out yourself? Send me a postcard. Go on, there’s the door. You can do better? Let’s see how far you get.” He looked around at the entire group, as nobody moved, because of course they wouldn’t. “No takers? Fine. But let’s get one thing straight— you’re staying?” 

“This isn’t a democracy anymore.” 

Chapter Text

Being on the road was hard, probably harder than anything he has ever done before— of course, you’d think that maybe he would be used to it by now, but it’s not as if he was constantly moving around before he met up with this group. He had lived in a library for practically the first two months of the apocalypse, only leaving to scavenge for food. He supposed he was more ready for it then some of the people in the group, such as Beth or Jimmy who had spent the entire time in the farmhouse and hadn’t really seen much of the outside world. 

A couple of days after the farm, they were scavenging a house, and Sydney had paused in the downstairs bathroom (which turned out to be a mistake) to actually take a look at himself. He’d stared at himself for a couple of minutes, the heavy bags under his eyes and the blood stain that was still there, although faded, because they hadn’t found anywhere to wash up yet. He had spent a long time staring at his nose, the noticeable crook it had now— he should have known, especially when he had let Maggie set it back in place and not someone who actually knew what they were doing, but the sight of it was enough to remind him of who gave it to him. 

He had let Randall pick the pieces of glass out of his knuckles, watching as blood dropped onto the hardwood floors beneath them. The teen had asked what happened and Sydney had just sighed and told him that there was nothing in the bathroom of use. 

It was another current injury to add to the list, on the same hand too, a large gash across his right palm from where he had accidentally sliced himself with the hatchet. He had already reopened it once, but it was hard not to when it was your dominant hand. 

No one had said anything else about Rick or questioned his leadership since that night, and he was glad for it. Maybe everyone had finally come to their senses that they all actually needed Rick, that he was the one that was the glue holding them all together. 

He didn’t care, as long as they didn’t have a repeat of last time. 

He was also glad for it that Rick had never said anything else about, well, his immortality. He knows the other hasn’t forgotten about it, how could you? But he didn’t want to be waiting around wondering if the other was going to say anything, and he just prayed that Rick was going to leave it alone. All he cared about was that the other didn’t tell anybody (which he didn’t seem to) and didn’t try to ask him about it anymore than he already had. 

Maybe it was because they had more important things to be worrying about. 

They had found gas for the empty Silverado, at a nearby gas station from where they had originally stopped, and took as much as they could get and set off again. They spent their days going from street to street, house to house, barely finding enough food for the entire group.  They’re on their feet a lot, despite them having enough vehicles for the entire group, they spent a majority of the time out of them. He could tell it was especially hard on Randall, who was most definitely the most beat up out of all of them, even though the swelling had gone down considerably on his face and all that was left was some dark bruises and cuts. Sydney had gotten Hershel to look at the kid’s leg not that long after the farm, and he had to handle Randall crying in his arms for a straight twenty minutes after the older man had told him that he would probably never walk as good as he did before the accident. 

It didn’t take long for Randall to settle into the group, which he was relieved about, worried that some of them would still try and give him a hard time because of where he came from. But those doubts were tossed out the window when Jimmy talked to him like they were already good friends and Beth would attempt to make conversation with him, or when Glenn and Maggie would head off farther into town to scavenge, they would ask him if he needed anything they could look out for. 

He knew Randall had a hard time keeping up with them sometimes, which is why he always made sure to walk with the younger boy, so he didn’t get left behind. 

So, when one day he was looking through a house, he spotted a wooden cane inside the closet of a bedroom he was rooting through. He figured it must’ve been owned by an older man or woman who had lived there, and it reminded him of something that his grandfather owned when he was still alive. It was dark in colour, and had a fancy curve at the top of the cane where you would rest your hand. He didn’t think twice about grabbing it, before continuing his search of the rest of the bedroom. He had dug through the bedside drawers, figuring maybe if an older couple had lived here they would have some painkillers or antibiotics of some sort. His suspicions were confirmed when he found some labelled bottles, and he squinted to read the labels and check what they were before he shoved them into his bag. 

When he had returned back to the vehicles, he spotted Randall leaning against the car and fiddling with his hands— Jimmy was nowhere in sight, so he figured that the other teenager had gone off scavenging with someone else. They tended to pair or group off a lot, so they could cover more ground, and it worked most of the time. 

“Hey, Randall!” He called out to the other, jogging over to him once he got a little closer. 

Randall looked over at the sound of his voice, standing up straighter when he noticed who it was. “Hi.” He answered back, eyes clearly zeroing in on the object in the older man’s hands. 

“This? I found it in one of the houses I went through.” He held it out to Randall, gesturing for the other to take it. “I know it may seem dumb, but I think it’ll be good for you. Might make it easier to get around.” Sydney can’t imagine what it was like for the other, and he’s not sure if he was sixteen if he would have liked to be handed a cane to help him walk. 

But, then again, he had been a pretty terrible teenager and he also hadn’t been in an apocalypse at that age. 

Randall hesitantly grabbed the cane from Sydney, holding it in his grip as he placed the bottom of it on the ground. He seemed to be testing it out, taking a couple steps away from Sydney and then coming back to him. He dug the bottom of it into the ground, looking up at the other. “Thanks, Sydney.” He finally said after a moment of silence, “I appreciate it.” 

Sydney smiled and put a hand on the other's shoulder, “No problem.” 

Before everything, Sydney had loved to run— it was something he would do every morning before he went to work, even on his days off. The sun would barely be in the sky when he would set off, running around the block as many times as he could before he was wheezing and his whole body ached in a good way.

Now it was probably his least favourite thing to do, because running meant you were running from something or someone. 

They had been passing through a town, when they spotted a small little pharmacy on the corner of what probably used to be a busy street. From the distance, you could easily conclude that it probably hadn’t been touched much since the start of the apocalypse. 

It had probably been for a good reason though, as he saw the amount of walkers that were lingering outside, walking back and forth on the sidewalk but never straying too far from the front doors. Clearly nothing had been through lately to scare them off, or give them a reason to leave their station.

“I’ll do it.” He had said without a second thought when they mentioned a distraction, having pulled the cars off to the side of the road and standing out of sight. He looked over at the walkers, an uneasy feeling in his stomach, but he pushed it away just as quickly as it had developed.

“You’ll do it?” Rick raised his eyebrows— Sydney couldn’t help but notice the scruff that the other was sporting, having been unable to gain access to something that will allow for a clean shave. They all were looking pretty ragged at this point.

Sydney shrugged, “Yeah. I’ll distract them, carry them away, lose them and loop back when it’s safe.” He looked around, before he grabbed a handful of rocks off the ground, shaking them in his hand. He pulled an empty water bottle from his bag where he had laid it on the ground, undoing the cap and funneling the rocks into the bottle. He shook it slightly, hearing the little racket it made— just fill it up three quarters of the way and it would be good to go.

“That’s a risk for something that could end up being nothing.” Hershel piped up, the reasonable one as always.

“It’ll be fine. I can run, trust me. I could run around the block four times and I could still make it another round.” He assured, as he began filling the bottle with more and more little rocks.

“What if—” Glenn began.

Sydney stood up from his crouched position, twisting on the cap of the water bottle, “We need the supplies, and it’ll be fine. Just wait till they clear out, and go in through the front. Watch out for the ones inside.” He glanced at Rick, knowing the other would end up getting final say either way. 

The leader looked thoughtful, sparing a glance at the pharmacy, hands resting on his hips. “Let’s do it.” He settled on. 

Thankfully, for once, everything had gone off without a hitch— he’d shook his makeshift noise maker and shouted at the walkers until all of them had noticed him, turning their heads and stumbling towards him. He glanced over in the distance where the group was standing, giving them a swift thumbs up before he turned back to the current task. It was time consuming, shaking and yelling as he moved backwards (every so often looking behind him) to make sure that they all still followed him and didn’t occasionally stray from the pack and turn back in the direction they had come from. Sydney briefly wondered how almost the entire population had been wiped out by a creature so easily fooled. 

He had led them far enough away that the pharmacy was no longer in sight, having turned down street after street, he encouraged them with more shaking and yelling before he decided it was time to abandon them. He threw the noisemaker one way and took off in the other direction, being sure to not go straight back to the pharmacy in case some of them decided they wanted to follow after where the living human had taken off to. He wasn’t sure they were smart enough to do so, but he didn’t want to accidentally mess everything up and disappoint everyone. 

Sydney hadn’t felt so good in a long time, as he ran through the streets, probably getting a little more carried away than he had to, taking the long way back just so he could feel the wind on his face as he sprinted. He knew that he would probably never get the same freedom that he had back in the old world, but he supposed he could take what he could get. 

After the group had finished ransacking the store, he had greeted Glenn with a smile and a high five, a little smug that his plan had worked out so well. 

“Least I know I’m not the only bait in this group.” Glenn commented, mirroring the other’s smile. 

He didn’t bother asking what that meant.

They had stopped in a clearing in the forest, just off the side of a dirt road, vehicles parked in a half circle around them, facing back towards the road in case they had to make a quick getaway. It had happened before, when they had stopped somewhere they didn’t think there would be any trouble and then all of a sudden they had to practically jump in the vehicles to get away fast enough. Not that far from where they had parked the vehicles was a lake, and nobody wasted anytime as they filled up their bottles and gathered as much water as they could carry— it would have to be boiled first of course, but that had never been a problem for them to do. 

He enjoyed when they stopped near a body of water, it was the only time he got to actually wash himself off as best he could, splashing water over his face and arms and trying to scrub the dirt that had stuck to his skin off.

He had just hopped off the motorcycle, steadying himself on the solid ground below him. Sydney still didn’t really like riding on the bike with Daryl, but they still only had two vehicles so there really wasn’t any room for him anywhere, and no one else seemed to be jumping to ride on the bike with Daryl anyways. He supposed he was taking one for the team, but he really missed just sitting in a car with his seatbelt on. 

They had been looking for an extra vehicle, so everyone wasn’t squished into two cars, but it was still a work in progress.

Sydney practically made a beeline for the Hyundai, patting Randall on the arm as he passed, and popping the trunk. It was easier to leave his bag in the vehicles— despite his growing paranoia if they ever had to split off from the group— so he didn’t have to keep it on his back while on the bike, it would just be a nuisance.

He dug around inside before he produced the thing he was looking for, zipping his backpack back up and shoving it into the corner next to a couple of the sleeping bags they had founded in some general store along the way. Sydney was very used to sleeping on the ground, so he didn’t mind when they stopped in a house for a night and they all packed into one room of the house, usually covering the entire floor with their sleeping bags and bodies. 

Looking around at the group, he scanned the area for the person he was looking for before he easily spotted them leaning against the back of the Silverado, kicking at the dirt below her feet. 

“Hey, kid.” He called out to Sophia, who immediately looked up in excitement at hearing his voice.

Her hair had grown since they left the farm, and he hadn’t really noticed until recently. Before it had just reached her jaw line, but it had already carried on past that and almost reached the bottom of her neck. She refused to believe him when he had mentioned that he’s sure that she had grown a couple inches as well, and he’s positive that she will grow up to be even taller than Carl will be.

That would give him the most satisfaction. 

“Hi, Sydney.” She replied back, pushing her hair out of her face— which also reminded him that she mentioned she needed more hair ties, but he hadn’t gotten around to getting them for her just yet. 

“Where’s your mom at?” He questioned, glancing around the surrounding area. He had always figured Carol would be even more protective than Lori was of Carl, who barely let the boy out of her sight at this point (who could blame her), but most of the time when he saw Sophia it was without her mom. 

Sophia seemed to copy what the other did with looking around, probably searching for her mom, “Ummmm, not sure. Maybe with Mrs Grimes.” 

Sydney laughed and rolled his eyes, “Sophia, you know you can say Lori right? Nobody cares, I tell you that every time.” He found it funny hearing her refer to most of the adults by their last names, Mr Grimes, Mrs Grimes, Mr Dixon— he’s sure he would have a stroke if she called him Mr Collins, but he supposed he didn’t have to worry about that because Glenn and Maggie got to be on a first name basis with her. 

The little girl shrugged her shoulders, “I know… but my dad always said it was to show respect.”

He had to repress a full body shudder at the mention of Sophia’s dad, after hearing from a couple people from the original group of what kind of father he exactly was. It had been mentioned in passing about the beating that Sophia’s dad had been given by Shane, and he had to admit, even though he had never hated someone with more passion than Shane Walsh— he appreciated that he had given an absolute beat down on an abusive asshole. 

“I think you’ll be forgiven, seeing as there is an apocalypse going on.” He smiled, ruffling her hair slightly just to annoy her.

She swatted at his hand, “Hey!” She exclaimed as she immediately went to fixing her hair, patting it down and pushing it out of her face. “What do you got there?” Sophia questioned after she was satisfied with her hair, pointing at the thing in his arms.

“Oh, this? Just a little something I picked up for a special someone.” He hummed, unfolding the fabric and holding it up for her to see. 

It was a dark pink hoodie, a size that was sure would be a little big on her, but he supposed that was helpful when it came to be a growing kid in an apocalypse. It had ‘Brooklyn’ written on the front of it in white lettering, almost looking brand new compared to just about everything else they owned. He had noticed that her other hoodie had some holes in it, and he believed it to be so dirty at this point that there was no helping it. 

It seemed her eyes widened with glee, a smile stretching over her face, “For me?” She reached out to feel the fabric. 

“Who else?” He scoffed sarcastically, holding it out for her to take, “Might be a little big but I’m confident you’ll grow into it.” 

“Thanks!” Sophia said excitedly, taking the hoodie from his grasp and wasting no time in slipping the piece of clothing over her head and pulling her arms through the sleeves.

He knew he had made the right decision when he saw her wearing it— it was indeed a little big, but it would keep her warm on cold nights and it wasn’t overly big on her. “Like it?” Sydney asked her, almost teasingly, because he knew that she did just by her reaction, he was just pleased that he had picked the right one.

“I love it, way better than my other one.” She informed him, tugging on the hoodie strings. 

“I’m glad.” He told her, “Why don’t you go see what Randall is up to? I gotta go talk to Glenn about something, okay?” Sydney is pretty sure that Sophia would rather go bother Jimmy and Randall (he doesn’t think they actually minded) than have to talk to Carl, who she still insisted was too annoying. Randall seemed pretty shocked that the little girl had wanted to talk to him in the first place, but he figured Randall wouldn’t deny anyone from the group trying to talk to him, so he quickly got used to it. 

“Okay.” Sophia agreed easily, something he’s sure that Lori is envious of, just from how much more stubborn he thought Carl appeared to be. He hoped she would stay like that.

Sydney stared at himself in the mirror, hands gripping onto the edge of the sink as his own eyes looked back at him. Thankfully, he no longer found himself having the urge to put his fist through the glass— how long ago had that even been? It was a lot harder keeping track of the days when you move around so often, and he hadn’t known the exact date in so long, he’d never thought he would miss an actual calendar, but it just made him miss the Greene farm even more. 

The bags under his eyes had considerably gotten worse, and his hair had grown considerably in the last several months, curling around his ears and down his forehead, almost reaching his eyes at this point. He hadn’t been sleeping well as of late, between taking shifts of staying up the night to guard the place they were staying or just being unable to stay asleep for too long.

You’d think that after the first little while of having no nightmares, they wouldn’t just suddenly start keeping you up at night. 

He had been proven wrong by that when he woke up with Randall looming over him in the dead of the night, hand clamped tightly around his mouth to silence him. 

“What the hell?” Sydney had asked him once Randall had realized he was awake.

“You were screaming.” Randall told him, “It was only for a second though, I stopped you right away. Probably didn’t attract any attention.”

Sydney had glanced around the room, seeing that everyone was still sleeping, and he’s not sure if they just hadn’t woken up to his screams or if the teenager had assured them nothing was wrong before he had woken up. He almost forgot where they were for a second, mind blanking completely, before he realized that they had stopped at a house for the night after they had scouted out the nearby area. 

“Go back to bed, I’ll be back soon.” He told Randall, before he scrubbed a hand over his face and stood up.

Which is how he ended up in the bathroom, staring at himself through the complete darkness and trying to get ahold of himself. He could not afford to start screaming in the middle of the night, hoping that someone would be quick enough to shut him up before he got the attention of anything that could be lurking around outside.

Funny thing was, he couldn’t even remember what he had been having a nightmare about. It was there, as soon as he opened his eyes, but after that second— it was just gone. 

He came to the conclusion that he would probably not be getting back to sleep, so instead of heading straight back to the place that everyone was held up, he headed for the front door. He fumbled around for a moment, not exactly used to the layout of the house, seeing as almost every single one they were in was laid out differently in some way— but he eventually found it, twisting the doorknob and exiting, closing it behind him.

The fresh air felt good on his face, and he rubbed at his face to try and remove the sleep that lingered. 

“You good?” Sydney jumped at the voice, even though he knew that someone would be out here on guard duty, but he still hadn’t been expecting it. He looked over to see Daryl leaning against the railing of the step, a cigarette hanging from his lips— he briefly wondered where the redneck had even found a pack that wasn’t stale, but to be fair, he actually thought that the other would still smoke it even if it was as stale as the hills.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, “Yeah, fine. Just not sleeping well.” 

Daryl didn’t say anything in response to that, but he hadn’t expected him too, he had learned from the very beginning that the other didn’t have much to say when it came to anyone. 

Something popped into his head, something that he had been meaning to bring up for a little while now, “Think you could do me a favour?” Sydney leaned against the side of the house next to the door, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Depends.” The other grunted in response.

Sydney sucked in a breath, and then released it. He felt almost a pang of anxiety in his chest at the thought of asking, but he quickly brushed it off— he’d learned quickly that in the apocalypse there was really no need to be shy or anxious about asking questions. Though, he couldn’t help it sometimes, not as if he could control it. “Well, I was thinking lately, I know that Carl has his own gun and everything, knows how to use it…” He trailed off slightly, trying to think carefully about his next choice of words. “I was gonna ask if you could teach Sophia how to use one.” It made him feel better that the other had his back slightly turned to him, staring off into the darkness, “I would do it, but honestly, I’m not sure I’m the best to learn from.”

There was silence for a couple seconds, a pause, and he wasn’t sure if the other was going to say anything until— “You her mom?”

Sydney rolled his eyes on instinct, letting out a sigh. “You think she’ll care? Sometimes I think she forgets she has a daughter.” He said, slightly annoyed, “And if Sophia wants to, what’s the problem? She gotta learn sometime or another.”

Daryl tossed the bud of his cigarette on the ground, and he wondered if the redneck was actually thinking it over or if he had already decided on an answer. It was hard to tell with him.  

“Suppose I could.” The other finally answered, snatching up one of his arrows to fiddle with from where the holder was leaning up against the side of the step (which made Sydney realize Daryl’s crossbow was also leaning up against the railing).

He let out a sigh of relief, “Thanks. I really appreciate it.” He honestly thought that he would make things way worse if he tried to teach Sophia himself, the only reason he had ever learned was from when he went to the shooting range once. Other than that, he just had to learn as he went, point and shoot and hope his shot landed. 

They lingered in silence for a little longer after that, Sydney just staring off into the darkness and wondering if anything was out there. He absolutely hated the dark, which was something terrible to almost have a phobia of in the apocalypse, but it had gotten about ten times worse since the start of all this. A walker could be lurking out there, just out of sight, or a person— a wild animal, you just never knew what it was. 

“He’s scared of you, y’know?” All of a sudden he blurted out, just as the thought came to the mind, and he had said it before he could even think twice about it. 

Daryl’s shoulders seemed to tense slightly, before he relaxed them, slipping the arrow back into its holder as he turned to face Sydney slightly. “Randall?” He questioned, as if it wasn’t already obvious. 

“Yeah, Randall.” He repeated, thinking of how scared the other got every time Daryl got within two feet of him. The teen had never said anything about it, probably because he didn’t want to say anything bad about the group, but he saw it. It was hard to miss it when Randall flinched every time the redneck tried to pass him a water bottle or to say anything directly to him. “You beat the shit out of him for no reason and probably fucked his leg up even more than it already had been.” Hershel had pointed that one out when he took another look at the leg, that there was another wound there besides the original one. “He’s sixteen, and he had an adult beat on him for no reason and had another lure him into the woods to try and kill him.” Sydney concluded, trying not to get angry as he thought about it— he tended to do that, which is why he thought he got so protective over the other so quickly, but he tried not to show it too much, it’s not as if Randall was his family or anything. 

Silence filled the air after he had finished his mini rant, and he pushed himself off the side of the house and stood up straight. The other had turned back away from him, and for once, he figured that Daryl wasn’t willingly not saying anything— he figured the other just didn’t know what to say. Because honestly, what justification was there for beating on a teenager? That you thought he was a part of a bad group? Not justifiable, seeing as they had basically kidnapped him.

That would be a funny story to tell people of how Randall got with them, if there had been anyone to tell.

It became clear that the other wasn’t going to be saying anything, and he held back a scoff, deciding it was for the better to just not say anything. “Night.” He instead said, turning his back to Daryl as he twisted the doorknob— he paused for an extra second to see if Daryl would say anything, but as expected, he didn’t. 

After he had got his own holster to hold his weapons, he’s not sure how he ever managed to get by without it. It was much more convenient than tucking his gun into his waistband and hooking his hatchet onto his belt, because now he could slip his gun easily in and out of it’s holster and his hatchet fit nicely into a clip on the other side of his hip. He’d questioned a couple times since he’d gotten the weapon if it was safe to just have it stuck to his hip like that with no covering, but he hadn’t cut himself yet with it so he supposed it was alright. 

Glenn has mentioned once that a hunting knife might be more practical than the hatchet, but he couldn’t bear to part with the weapon he had picked up at the general store when he was first collecting things of his own. He instead had chosen to give a hunting knife to Randall, along with another holster and in exchange he was given back the pocket knife that he had originally given to the teenager that night at the farm. 

He tried to ignore how ironic it was that he was the new owner of Dave’s gun, and Randall was in possession of Shane’s old gun. 

After the little trade off, it hadn’t taken long for him to give the pocket knife to Sophia, who wasn’t exactly sure how to feel about it but had taken it anyway. He figured if anything, she would need it more than him in the long run. 

It was a little weird to see her with a gun now strapped to her hip, even though the sight of Carl with the same thing was not as weird. He figured it was because she didn’t seem to know what to do with it, didn’t carry the weapon as flawlessly as Carl had learned too— she seemed to prefer to just stick with one of the adults and let them take care of it compared to Carl who would take any chance to go in guns blazing. Sydney couldn’t find it in him to care though, no one could, she was a little girl in the apocalypse who all of a sudden was supposed to be able to kill the undead and shoot a gun. 

He hadn’t asked how the gun training had gone between Daryl and Sophia, but he knew it happened because Sophia herself had mentioned it not long after they did it. She said she didn’t like the idea of it too much but she didn’t completely hate it, and that Daryl had even given her a gun to use as her own— she had seemed slightly worried that her mom would care, but it was apparent that it didn’t matter too much when Carol didn’t say anything about it to Sophia. 

Scavenging with Maggie and Glenn was probably one of his favourite things to do, they had learned very quickly that they all worked pretty well together— despite Sydney occasionally thinking that he might have intruded on them because they were in a relationship, that was clearly never the truth. They were the three that you sent into any stores when they were going through a small town, while everyone else tried to get through as many houses as they could. He wasn’t sure why they worked so well together, but he wasn’t complaining either, because he was lucky to have two people that he worked so good with. They always seemed to be on the same page, always anticipating what the other was going to do, and they were able to watch each other’s back pretty effectively. 

Currently, they were looting through some sort of drug store, just looking for anything of use. There were the usual things that they looked for such as toilet paper, pads or tampons, water, medical supplies, any canned food, etc. Usually they were able to find a couple things when they went on this type of run, trying to take the things that were leftover that others had deemed useless despite them actually having some use. 

He squinted at the bare shelves that were in front of him, grabbing at random bottles and reading the labels, trying to find anything that would be useful. Of course, the most basic things such as Tylenol and ibuprofen were missing from the shelves— the first thing that people would have thought to grab when they had come ransacking through here in the beginning. Though, from the dust that had been collected, it was obvious that nobody had been inside here in awhile. 

Surprisingly, the entire time that they had been on the road, they had never run into anybody else. 

After shoving a couple things into his bag that he thought might come in handy lately, including a couple things that he had just read ‘pregnancy’ in the title so he threw them in with the rest. He could tell that the pressure was on with the group, because even though nobody said anything, it was clear that Lori was getting closer and closer to her due date as the days went by and it wouldn’t be that long until she went into labour. So far they had not found a place that would be deemed safe enough for a baby to be born, so they kept looking, but suddenly it seemed as if the incoming baby was a shadow that was looming over them and darkening the world. 

He was scared, and he wasn’t even the one having the baby. 

Sydney shook his head, trying to not get himself lost in a black hole of thinking what would happen once the baby arrived, because it was never-ending once he got thinking. He took another glance over the shelf before something caught his attention, and he snatched it up, ripping opening the packaging so he could get access at the small pill bottle that was hidden inside. He tossed the packaging aside and squinted to read the bottle— like honestly, why did the print have to be small— and scanned over the small words they filled up the label. Half the things that these bottles said he didn’t understand, but it was enough to understand that these pills were some sort of painkillers that helped with chronic pain relief. He decided he would read it more carefully later, as he slipped his backpack off to unzip the front pocket and toss the bottle in. 

“That for Randall?” Glenn, who had appeared from around the corner of the shelf, asked. 

Sydney jumped at his sudden appearance as he fixed the bag back in its original place, safe on his back. “Huh?” He said, confused momentarily by the question. 

“The pills?” The other reiterated to him, “They’re for Randall? I just assumed because of how much pain he seemed to be in lately.” Glenn shrugged his shoulders. 

It was true. It had seemed for a little while that the other’s leg had been getting better, well not better per say, but that the pain had been getting more tolerable and less…. painful. Though, he had noticed lately how much more Randall seemed to grit his teeth and wince as he walked, even with the help of the cane. And it had been confirmed when one night, all of a sudden, Randall had burst into tears because of how unbearable the pain had become for him. 

Some days seemed worse than others, and there had been a lot of bad days lately. 

“Oh, yeah.” He pushed his hair back, trying to ignore how greasy it felt to do so, he’d pretty much gotten used to it at this point. “Figured he should try something to see if it helps.” Sydney looked around, seeing where Maggie was, and at the other end of the store he could see her crouched down by a shelf and rooting through whatever had been left behind. 

“How are things with Maggie?” He added after a second, lowering his voice just a little. 

Glenn glanced over to where his girlfriend was crouched down, before looking back at Sydney. “As good as they can, I guess.” He let out a nervous laugh, “Not really a lot of time to do anything in an apocalypse though, seeing as we’re never alone.” 

“You guys have each other, so I guess that’s enough.” Sydney smiled at him, before he gestured for the other to follow him over to the cash register— you’d never know what kind of goodies were hiding behind there, and they were getting desperate for anything to eat that wasn’t expired. They were a big group, and it kept getting harder and harder to feed everyone enough— and he tended to give half the things he was given to Sophia because she always seemed to need it more than him. The other leaned over the counter as Sydney crouched down on the otherwise, digging around through the trash to check for anything useful. 

“You ever had someone special?” Glenn asked suddenly, and Sydney froze at the question, having not expected it. 

A pretty blonde girl floated into his memories, curly hair and ocean blue eyes— he had always told her that she would make a great model, but she had always laughed him off and never took him seriously. “I had a best friend once.” He explained to Glenn, thinking of the three years that he had known her, the only friend that he had ever known to leave such an impression on him. “Her name was Hannah.” He barely remembered how he had met her at this point, most of the time he had known her it was a blur— it hadn’t felt like three years until after he had gotten his shit together. Maybe it had been at a party that he went to?  

“What happened to her?” He could tell the other seemed a little uneasy at the question, probably worried that the answer would not be one he wanted to hear. 

After shoving a couple more things into his bag, he zipped it up and stood up, facing Glenn from across the counter. “No idea.” He answered truthfully, “We used to party a lot— too much. I finally got my shit together and she didn’t. I haven’t seen her in almost eight years.” Sydney wondered what had happened after he had dropped her, having never asked around and never texting her again. She could have been dead way before the apocalypse and he would’ve never known— or years after that she could’ve got clean and tried to contact him, but it would’ve been too late by then. 

He had never meant to be an antisocial person, it’s not like he tried to do so. But after the Hannah days, he didn’t like to go to parties anymore because it was too difficult— he met some people when he went to college, but he was never too close with them but they were his friends. It was sad, but he was almost thirty and had practically never had a serious relationship before. And now it seemed that it would never happen— what Glenn and Maggie had seemed almost like a miracle. There had been some people, over the years, but no one serious. 

“Oh, damn. That sucks.” 

Sydney just nodded, “Uh, yeah.” He cleared his throat, feeling awkward for talking about it after the other had been telling him about his own relationship that was going well, “I think I got everything that’s here.” 

“Y’all ready to go?” Maggie asked from near the front doors, as she finished zipping up her own pack and slipping it over her shoulders. She looked tired, but he didn’t blame her, knowing that he probably looked just about as tired as she did— maybe even worse. He hoped that they would find somewhere to settle down soon because he wasn’t sure how much longer they could go on like this, always appearing to be on the verge of collapsing and on the go every single day— never stopping. Especially with the baby coming soon, it seemed they were a little less than prepared.

“Yeah.” Glenn replied to his girlfriend, as Sydney nodded his head in agreement with a small ‘mhm’ sound falling from his lips. He honestly just wanted to get back to the vehicles so he could take a seat, feet constantly aching from how much he moved in one day— he hoped that eventually he would get used to it. 

Maggie unsheathed her machete from its holding place, using her free hand to push open the front door to the store. A little ding echoed through the store from the bell at the top, “Let’s go.” She said, holding the door open for them. 

He could not wait to sit down.

Honestly, Sydney isn’t sure how he ended up going hunting with Daryl in the first place, he thought maybe it had something to do with Rick not wanting anyone to be alone at any point in time anymore. The horde that was lurking not that far from them had attracted more walkers in the area, and despite Daryl usually going off on his own to hunt— Rick had probably insisted that he needed someone to cover his back, probably just worried for the other. 

Sydney had never hunted anything in his entire life, never had to, but as he watched Daryl move through the forest he could tell the other had been doing it for much longer than before the apocalypse. He was sure the other probably wasn’t too happy about having the city boy tag along with him, but it’s not like he had much choice. 

They had been out here awhile, and he knew that wasn’t just him being impatient— they really had been out in the forest for awhile, and he figured that they might have seen something by now. 

He decided to chance it, “I’m not pretending to know anything, but shouldn’t we have seen something by now?” He broke the silence, the first words either one of them had said since they stepped foot into the woods. 

Daryl rolled his shoulders and turned towards Sydney, “Yeah. Should’ve.” 

Sydney blinked in response, eyes scanning the forest that was around them. It was pretty dead, he hadn’t heard the rustle of any sort of living animal— and he hadn’t even seen a single walker yet, which was weird for how often they had been seeing them lately. “Should we head back?” He questioned. 

The other nodded his head, but he didn’t start to move or head back in the direction that they had come from. 

Sydney didn’t move either. 

“I spoke to the kid, y’know?” Daryl said out of the blue, causing Sydney’s brain to take a couple extra seconds to even catch up. 

Randall? Daryl had spoken to Randall? The other had never said anything to him— but then again, he supposed the teen didn’t have to tell him everything that was going on with him and every conversation he was having. 

Before he could say anything in response though, Daryl continued, “Didn’t apologize or nothin’. Did what I had to do at the time— told him that he was one of us now, no reason to be scared.” 

One of us. 

It was nice, to actually hear someone acknowledge out loud that Randall was a part of the group— they had never talked about it, not since he told them that he was staying and he wouldn’t hear anything else about it. No one had said anything, which he was glad for, because he was honestly getting tired of fighting for the others life and now that Shane was gone he shouldn’t have to. 

“I appreciate that, Daryl. Seriously.” He honestly hadn’t expected the other to even speak to Randall, so even though it wasn’t exactly an apology, he knew it was the best he was getting and that it was probably as sorry as the other could manage anyways. Sydney briefly wondered how Randall thought about this, but he didn’t think he should bring it up, seeing as it was the other’s business and not his. 

“Figured you’d jump me given the chance if I didn’t.” The redneck gave a half shrug with his shoulder. 

Sydney couldn’t help but laugh, “You think I’d be able to take you?” Even though the other was probably only an inch or so taller than him, he’s sure that Daryl could take him with only one arm if he really had to. 

“Busted Shane’s face up pretty good and you weren’t planning on that one.” Daryl retorted. 

Huh, well, he supposed that one was true. 

“I’m feisty.” Sydney settled on after little thought, trying to immediately push the image of that night in the forest out of his head. He didn’t like to dwell on it for too long— while speaking off, “You know, I still wanna know how to use that.” He looked at the crossbow that was being held with one hand by Daryl, hovering off the ground. The other always made it look so easy. 

Daryl looked down at where the other was looking, and hefted the weapon into both his hands. “Got time.” He grunted at him, holding it for Sydney to take from his grasp. 

He could have died and went to heaven right then and there, having actually not expected for Daryl to agree to it. Apparently the other was just trying to exceed all expectations that Sydney had of him, from talking to Randall and now apparently going to let the guy he barely knew use his favourite weapon of choice. Of course, he wasn’t going to complain or ask if the other was sure— not wanting him to change his mind, moving to stand on the same side of Daryl so he could take the crossbow from his grasp. 

Immediately, he realized it was a lot heavier than Daryl made it seem to be. 

“Put your dominant hand on the grip, keeping your finger close to the trigger.” Daryl pointed out, watching as the other followed his instructions, “And put the other one here to support this end.” He reached up, pushing Sydney’s hand farther down the end of the crossbow to grasp at the underside of the weapon. “Don’t lock your elbows or you’ll hurt yourself, same thing as a gun.” Sydney instinctively loosened his elbows, not even realizing that they had been tensed up so much until Daryl had mentioned it. He hefted the heavy object up into his arms, at eye level, trying to ignore how his arms slightly ached at the feeling of such a heavy weight in his arms. “Arrow is already loaded, but all you gotta do is slide it in and pull the string back and it’ll be good to go.” The taller man pointed at where he had placed the arrow into a dip in the middle of the bow, fitting in snugly. 

Sydney let out a breath and looked through the sight that was at the top of the crossbow, trying to get used to the feeling of it. “Can I shoot it?” He questioned, finger hovering over the trigger as he glanced up, looking at the tree that was ahead of them. 

“Go for it.” 

He stared at the tree for another moment, focusing on the spot that he wanted the arrow to land. Honestly, he would be content as long as the thing hits the tree. 

Sydney grounded himself, relaxing his posture slightly as he took another glance through the sight at the top. He can’t imagine how much practice it must have taken to get good at using this thing, seeing Daryl having put the arrows through walkers heads without almost a second glance to see where he was shooting. He let himself take in another breath and release it, squeezing the trigger just as he did so— watching as the arrow flew through the air and hit the centre of the tree, the tip of the arrow imbedding itself inside. 

He doesn’t think it was exactly where he had wanted it to hit, but as he said, he was lucky that he had even hit the tree. He felt awkward and out of place holding the weapon, but he could see how this could be much better than a hand held weapon of a gun— it was silent and you could shoot it. Though, it made him miss his hatchet when he used it, no matter how impractical it was. 

“Christ, no wonder you got so much muscle. I’d get ripped from carrying this thing around too.” Sydney laughed, lowering the crossbow to the ground, relieved that the pressure was off of his arms. He watched as Daryl moved towards the tree, and put one hand around the arrow and pulled effortless, the tip coming free from the tree. Sydney held the weapon out for the other to take from his grasp, watching as Daryl took it and easily slipped another arrow into the dip in the middle of the weapon, pulling the string back to lock it in. 

“I’ve been doin’ it a long time.” The redneck explained, as he slung the bow over his shoulder, “We should head back now.” 

Sydney looked up at the sky, where the sun used to be high up, but now it was slowly beginning to set. They had to have been out at least a couple of hours by now, and they should probably try and be back before the sky became dark. “Yeah, lets go.” He tried to not linger on the fact that they hadn’t caught any food the entire time they were out, and his stomach silently grumbled in disappointment that it wouldn’t be getting another meal today. “Lead the way.” He told the other. 

He watched as Daryl turned his back to him and started walking, and he couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe , a friendship with the other might just be possible. The other didn’t seem keen on being close with anyone, but Sydney was known for being extremely stubborn. 

And it’s not like he was going anywhere anytime soon. 

Chapter Text

As the vehicles rolled to a stop, Sydney couldn’t help but enjoy that he didn’t have to feel the wind blowing on his face anymore, that he could actually wear a seatbelt and lean back against the seats. When the group had found the grey truck, he had practically jumped at the chance to be able to sit in the truck and he would have fought anyone for it— thankfully he didn’t have to, because every seemed to understand that he was going to throw up if he had to ride on the motorcycle again while there was a perfectly good spot for him in the truck. 

He was tired, and he was hungry. Two things that did not go well together.

He also was currently missing showers, or baths, or anything that he could clean himself with. He would take a bucket and a rag at this point if it meant he could scrub the layer of dirt that coated his skin.

Pulling open the truck door, he hopped out, turning back to look at the person who had been sat next to him, “You good?” He asked Randall, who was in the midst of grabbing his cane off the floor of the truck. 

Randall looked over at him, hair falling in front of his eyes where it had grown over, “Yeah, why?” He asked, quizzingly.

He glanced down at the other’s leg, before meeting Randall’s eyes, raising an eyebrow.

The other huffed and scooted to get out on Sydney’s side, getting out slower than the other had. “I’m fine. It’s better now, I swear. You don’t gotta baby me.” Sydney knew the other wasn’t saying it to be mean, he’s not sure the other was capable of that, he just didn’t want to have Sydney fuss over him anymore than he already did.

Sydney raised his arms in defense, “Okay, okay.” He turned on his heel, walking over to where the group had gathered around the front of the Hyundai, a map sprawled out over the hood.

“—meets up with this one, we’ll be cut off. We’ll never make it south.” He heard Maggie say just as he approached, watching her gesture around the map. It wasn’t hard to figure out that they were discussing the two herds that they had been kept track of and trying to avoid lately.

“What would you say? That was about one fifty ‘head?” Daryl questioned, leaning against the car.

Glenn shook his head, “That was last week. It could be twice that by now.”

Sydney stared down at the map, just as Hershel spoke, “This river could have delayed them. If we move fast, we might have a shot to tear right through there.” He pointed at a place on the map.

“Yeah, but if this group joins with that one, they could spill out this way.” Maggie’s fingers grazed over the map, where a couple dots had been placed on the map as a remembrance of where the horde had been. 

“So we’re blocked?” Sydney spoke up, taking his stand next to Daryl. He looked over, and spotted Beth and Jimmy on watch on opposite sides of the car, and Randall making his way up to Jimmy to presumably help. He spotted Sophia down by the Silverado where Lori was sitting, probably asking the older lady if she had decided on a name for the baby yet (even though a gender couldn’t be determined until birth). 

Rick sighed, “Only thing to do is double back at twenty seven and swing towards Greenville.”

Sydney made a face at the idea, “We already picked through there, it was a ghost town, basically nothing there.” He had remembered when he had searched through almost a whole street of houses and practically came out empty handed.

The leader seemed to remember this as well, “Yeah… I know, I know. At Newnan we’ll push west. Haven’t been through there yet, we can’t keep going house to house. Need to find someplace to hole up for a few weeks.”

He thought of how Lori looked about ready to burst any day now, and he winced, hoping for both her sake and the babies they could find someplace to stay.

Maggie grabbed the map off the hood of the car, and began rolling it up, “We gotta get to the creek before we head out, won’t take long. We got to fill up on water.” She gestured for Glenn and Sydney to follow her.

He moved to do so, before he felt a hand on his arm and he blinked, seeing Daryl having pulled him back from doing so. He was about to open his mouth to say something, but he didn’t get a chance to before the redneck had started to speak to Rick. “Hey, while the others wash their panties, let’s go hunt.” He told the leader, and Sydney failed to see how he fit into this, but clearly the other wanted him to tag along so he wouldn’t complain.

“Randall!” Sydney called out lightly to the teen, who looked up from his conversation with Jimmy, “I’ll be back in a bit, stay with Jimmy, okay?”

When Randall just gave a thumbs up and nodded his head, turning back to the conversation he had been having, he wondered at one point had he adopted a teenager and started to act like some mother hen. 

It didn’t take long for the hunt to be cut short when they had started walking on some sort of old train tracks, Sydney trailing behind Daryl and Rick and wondering how he could even be of use when it came to hunting. He decided that because the other had conceded to showing him to use his bow, maybe he could rope him into giving him some tips and tricks when it came to hunting. 

Having been lost in thought, he almost ran right into Rick when they had slowed to a stop, and he had to look up to realize why they had stopped. He turned towards the source of interest, for some reason believing that he was hallucinating when he first realized what he was looking at.

It was a prison. 

He stared out at the field of the prison, where a bunch of walkers wearing jumpsuits were stumbling around, nowhere to go. From where he was looking, it looked as if the prison fence was still completely intact, no outside forces having gotten in so far.

“That’s a shame.” Daryl said what Sydney had also been thinking.

Of course, when he looked over at Rick, who was staring intently out at the field, he realized that the other was not looking at the prison the same way him and Daryl were. He was staring at it like he had just found a pot of gold.

Oh, you can’t be serious?

Turns out, Rick was being completely serious, which he quickly found out when he found himself watching the leader use a pair of wire cutters to cut through the fence to the prison. A whole bundle of nerves had settled in his stomach as he landed a hatchet between a walker's eyes, pushing it to the ground, before it could get any closer to the group then it already had. It hadn’t taken long for the group to slide through the hole that had been created in the fence, Sydney having to push his bag through first so it didn't get caught— helping Glenn as he looped through a new piece of red wire to shut the hole they had put in the fence. 

He found it really ironic they were technically breaking into a prison. 

As they moved along the outer side of the fence, the walkers who were on the inner side and wearing prisoner jumpsuits had finally begun to notice them, slamming themselves against the fence and clawing against the wire as if they could ever reach them. 

They stopped when they had reached the front gate to the yard, which was filled with a couple dozen walkers. He couldn’t help but notice each one of them were wearing a prison jumpsuit, or they were a prison guard, so it was starting to give him the impression that this place hadn’t been touched by the outside world yet. 

“It’s perfect, if we can shut that gate—“ Rick pointed to a gate that was across the yard, which was currently wide open and allowing the walkers to come in and out, “—prevent more from filling the yard, we can pick off these walkers. We’ll take the field by tonight.” 

“How do we shut it?” Hershel questioned. 

“I can do it.” Sydney said without a second thought, “You guys can cover and I’ll run for it.”

“No.” Maggie argued, “It’s a suicide run.” 

He looked out at how far the run was and how many walkers were in his way, and he couldn’t help but disagree. “I’m the fastest, I can do it.” He turned towards the rest of the group, hoping to convince them. 

“No, you, Maggie, Beth and Glenn draw as many as you can over there.” Rick gestured to a nearby fence, “Pop ‘em through the fence. Daryl, you go back to the other guard tower. Jimmy, go with him, you’ve become a pretty good shot.” Sydney had to admit that it was true, having seen the teen handle almost all the types of guns that they had in their possession and being able to decently shoot with them. “Hershel, Carl and Randall, you guys take this tower.” Rick turned towards the gate, “I’ll run for the gate.” 

It didn’t take long for Glenn to hand Sydney a crowbar, not exactly his favourite choice, but it was good for poking walkers through a fence. 

“I want to help.” He turned to his side, where Sophia was standing, and he blinked at her in surprise. 

Glenn had also paused to look at her, also looking slightly at the little girl asking to help. He spared a glance at Sydney, who just shrugged his shoulders, and he watched as Glenn handed the little girl another crowbar. 

“Just poke them through the fence, okay? Don’t put your hands or anything against it.” He told the little girl as they moved over towards the fence, extra nervous now knowing that the little girl would be participating. He had to remind himself that she wasn’t exactly dumb, just a kid, and Carl seemed to get along fine when it came to doing things so he’s sure that she would be fine. 

“I know.” Sophia said in response as they lined up along the fence, as Sydney turned his head to watch as Glenn handed Rick the thing they were going to use to shut the gate. 

He sucked in a breath as he watched Rick run out into the yard, him and the others immediately begin banging and yelling on the fence to attract the walkers attention. 

“Come on!”

“Hey, come here!” 

“Come on!” 

“Over here!” 

He glanced at Sophia, just in time to watch her drive the crowbar through a walker's head, pulling with both hands to retract the weapon from its brains. He had to tell himself that she was fine and could handle stabbing some walkers on the other side of the fence, instead focusing on stabbing as many of them as he could as they stumbled and hit the fence in an attempt to grab at the people on the other side. Sydney could hear gunfire from above him, and from across the yard, watching as walkers that got too close to Rick hit the ground. It didn’t take long as bodies kept dropping to the floor, until the leader had finally reached the gate, pulling it closed with his hands and locking it before any of the walkers on the other side could get through. 

It was only a couple minutes later that all the walkers had hit the ground, Rick having picked the remaining few off with the rifle from the other guard tower. 

He pulled back the crowbar, glancing down at Sophia with a smile on his face, “Good job.” 

He looked out at the new cleared field, and despite how tired and hungry he was, at this exact moment he couldn’t find it in himself to care in the slightest. Right now he was riding on the high of actually being able to sleep with walls (fence?) that were more guarded than any of the houses they had been in could have been. A prison was the safest place that they could be, and if they could actually manage to clear out even more of this place? 

It could be perfect. 

Sydney had stood up from the makeshift campfire the minute he had finished his meal, carrying another plastic bowl filled with whatever meat that they were eating for tonight. He glanced over at the other side of the fence, the one leading to prison, where Rick was pacing along the edge of the fence— Hershel had pointed out that it was his third time walking around the perimeter, but he figured the leader was just paranoid about some hole in the fence or something along those lines. 

“Hey.” He called out to Daryl, who was standing watch on some sort of vehicle that had been turned on its side and dangerously close to pressing against the entrance gate. “Brought you a present.” Sydney hoisted himself up onto the vehicle, handing the plastic bowl off to the redneck, who took it without complaint. He glanced on the other side of the fence, where they had backed up the vehicles against the fence— that hadn’t taken long to do, once they figured out how to get onto the actual road for the prison. “It’s not much, but I figured you wouldn’t eat if I didn’t bring it.” He snorted. 

“I guess little Shane over there has quite the appetite.” The other said, glancing over to where the pregnant Lori was sitting. 

He could have choked if he had anything to choke on. “Don’t be mean.” He told Daryl, “Even if it biologically was, it’ll never be Shane’s baby.” 

That baby will never be yours. 

Sydney tried to block out the memory of his last words to Shane before the other had snapped his neck— he wished he could laugh at the other, mock him, how his plan had gone to shit and Sydney had in fact still lived after being the one to ruin said plan. 

“We’d all be worse off if Shane was still here and Rick wasn’t. He would have off’ed me the first chance he got and Randall would be dead.” Anyone could judge the way that Rick chose to handle things or how he did stuff, but no one could say that Shane would have been a better leader than Rick. “Probably put a bullet in your back too just cause he was jealous of you.” He added after a moment, thinking back on how Shane had probably hated how much in the end Rick had turned to Daryl and not him. 

“Why’s that?” Daryl questioned. 

Sydney took a once over of what the other was wearing, having not realized it until now, “Well, he obviously would’ve been jealous of that rockin’ poncho.” He laughed. 

The other wiped his fingers off on his pants, having emptied the plastic bowl of food, letting out a snort at Sydney’s comment. “Wouldn’t have put it past the guy.” Daryl settled on. 

“He was nuts, so yeah.” He paused and looked over at where Rick was still trailing around the perimeter, “Not sure how well he’s taking it though.” It was hard to not notice the way he was much more silent than usual, or how cold he seemed to act towards his own pregnant wife. 

“He’s working through it, just like the rest of us.” Daryl shrugged, glancing from Rick, out past the vehicles and into the darkness, “Let’s get back.” 

“Okay, poncho boy, let’s go.” He twirled his finger, a smile on his face, watching as Daryl just squinted at him but then moved to get down from the overturned vehicle. As he watched the other’s feet hit the ground, he couldn’t help but feel satisfied at how he seemed to have worked himself into Daryl’s little bubble that usually was just for himself— and was actually close to being considered the other's friend, by his standard anyways. 

Daryl reached his hand out for Sydney and he grasped it, allowing himself to slide off the edge of the vehicle and let his feet hit the ground. “Thanks.” He said as they began walking back towards the camp, where everyone was still huddled around in a circle in front of the fire. 

Though, as they grew closer, the soft voice of Beth began to fill the air. 

“Of all the money that e'er I had

I spent it in good company

And all the harm I've ever done

Alas, it was to none but me

And all I've done for want of wit

To memory now I can't recall

So fill to me the parting glass

Good night and joy be to you all….”

If Sydney had to have guessed who would have a good singing voice in the group, he would have guessed it to be Beth, who was always soft spoken. Her voice was like a melody as it filtered through the air, and he found himself becoming more relaxed just at the sound of it— as if he was a baby, that you could use a lullaby to put to sleep. He thought, whole heartedly, that he had hit the goldmine when he found this group, when he had found Sophia and brought her back to her family. He didn’t think it would get any better than this. 

He watched as Rick was handed some food by his son, and without thought or without a glance, he handed it off to Lori. 

“Of all the comrades that e'er I had

They're sorry for my going away

And all the sweethearts that e'er I had

They'd wish me one more day to stay…” 

At this point, Maggie had joined in, and he couldn’t help but notice the slightly shocked look on Glenn’s face as she began to sing. They were holding hands, leaning against each other, and despite the shocked look that had overcome his face, he was still looking at her like he was completely in love— he didn’t seem to care that it was the end of the world, that every day they faced death, because he seemed to love her all the same. 

His heart gave a small pang, but he shoved it down almost immediately, ignoring the feeling. 

“But since it fell into my lot

That I should rise and you should not

I'll gently rise and softly call

Good night and joy be to you all.”

He looked at Randall, startled to find that the teen was actually just looking at Beth— it wasn’t the fact that he was looking at her in general, it was the fact that he looked as if he was a teenager in love, head tilted to the side and looking at the blonde girl with adoration in his eyes. He couldn’t have helped but be reminded of a lesser version of Maggie and Glenn, which seemed ironic when he thought about it, both of them being sisters and all. 

He tucked away the information for later, which he tended to do with a lot of things, simply because he thought it wasn’t the time to bring it up. 

“Beautiful.” Hershel commented, which made Sydney realize that the two sisters had stopped singing. 

He took his spot next to Randall, leaning back on the grass planting his hands down to support himself. Sydney was about ready for bed at this point, he just wanted to roll out his sleeping bag and pass out the moment his head hit the bag and hopefully catch at least a decent night's sleep. 

“Better all then in.” Rick said, practically reading Sydney’s kind, “I’ll take watch, for a big day tomorrow.” 

“What do you mean?” Glenn was the first one to question. 

Sydney had a feeling he knew where this was going. 

“Look, I know we’re all exhausted.” That was an understatement to say the least, everyone practically on their last stand when it came to anything— especially Lori, who was only a couple days from popping at this point. “This was a great win… but we just got to push a little bit more. Most of the walkers are dressed as guards and prisoners, looks like this place fell pretty early.” Least Sydney could agree with that, having thought that earlier, but he isn’t sure some of the group felt the same. “It could mean the supplies may be intact, they’d have an infirmary, a commissary.” Rick continued, glancing around at everyone’s faces. 

Daryl decided to speak up at this point, “An armoury?” 

“That would be outside the prison itself, but not too far away. Warden’s office would have info on the location.” Rick continued, and Sydney honestly couldn’t believe that they were going to do this, “Weapons, food, medicine. This place could be a gold mine.” 

“We’re dangerously low on ammo. We’d run out before we make a dent.” Hershel pointed out. 

“That’s why we have to go in there… hand to hand. After all we’ve been through, we can handle it, I know it.” Sydney wondered how many walkers were in there, how many prisoners had been there when this place had fallen— probably at full capacity. It would be a lot. “These assholes don’t stand a chance.” Rick finished, and without another glance, he stood up and walked off— not leaving anybody a chance to say anything. 

Sydney watched as Lori got up to follow after him, and he’s glad he didn’t have to listen to that conversation. He tore his gaze away from them and turned towards his side, picking up the sleeping bag he had placed there earlier, undoing the clip. 

“Try and get some sleep.” He told Randall, “Like he said, big day tomorrow.”

By the time he had found himself in a little almost circle with Rick, Daryl, Glenn and Maggie, he was pumped and ready to go. He looked over on the other side of the fence, where they had stayed the night before, and saw the rest of the group ready to stab any of the walkers they could lure over to the fence. He was holding onto his hatchet tightly, knuckles almost turning white as he gripped it, standing in between Daryl and Rick. 

“Ready?” Hershel called out to them, as he shut the fence behind them. 

“Let’s go.” Rick nodded to the older man, as they began to move to the otherwise of the courtyard. 

Immediately, the other group began to bang on the fence and yell to get the walkers attention, some of them straying over towards them but most of them coming towards the group that was in the middle of it. Sydney didn’t hesitate when the first one came close, swinging his hatchet in between its eyes, and pulling it free a second later. He’d noticed he had gotten a lot better at pulling his weapon free, when previously he had to push the walker off of it— he supposed he had gotten used to the weight and how much you had to pull without stumbling backwards. 

To his left, Daryl buried his knife into the neck of a walker that had been getting a little too close to Sydney, which made him thankful Rick had thought of this idea— all of them in a circle and none of their backs exposed. 

His arm hurt slightly from how much he was swinging it, barely having time to breathe as he took down walker after walker— and just as the next one fell, something that had been blocked by the walker caught his eye. 

He looked from left to right and saw Rick and Daryl still going at it with some walkers, and he moved forward when he saw an opening—

“Don’t break rank!” Daryl had immediately yelled at him, but the brunette had already stepped out and it was too late. 

“Worth it!” Sydney yelled back as he scooped up the prison guard shield, immediately backtracking into his place within the circle. He pushed a walker away, allowing Daryl to push his knife into its head while it was stumbling around in confusion. 

Definitely worth it. 

“Almost there—“ Rick started as they stopped by a door, and he watched as the leader opened it slowly. Nothing came out. “Shit.” He said as he rounded the corner, pressing his back against the wall of the door they had just opened. 

It didn’t take long for Sydney to realize there was another gate leading to a courtyard that was filled with about a dozen or two walkers. On top of that, he watched as about four prison guards with complete swat uniforms came around the corner. 

Daryl sent an arrow flying, but only then did they realize that because of the shield mask, it just bounced right off. 

The walkers that lingered on the other side of the fence began to notice the humans on the other side, which caused more of a problem as they tried to stumble through the fence. 

Sydney whacked on one of the guards, but it didn't seem to do anything because they were too padded. 

“Oh shit.” He cursed, turning to look at his left, where Rick was attempting to close the gate by himself. “Daryl!” Sydney yelled out to the other, just as he slammed into one of the guards that had tried to get at Rick, trying to ignore how the wind got knocked right out of him as he landed on top of the walker guard. He released his grip on the shield and pulled as hard as he could on the helmet it was wearing, feeling it squirm underneath him, because as he pulled he watched as the skin peeled off the walker’s face along with it. He smashed his hatchet into its head, just as beside him, Daryl and Rick slammed the fence gate shut and closed it. 

“We’re good!” Rick called out. 

Sydney got back to his feet and snatched the shield up, just in time to see Maggie get her knife underneath the guards shield and bury her knife into its neck. “See that?” She called out as it slumped to the ground, a wild look of excitement on her face. 

Glenn followed in suit with the help of Daryl, taking out the other guard by one of them lifting the shield of the walker and the other burying their weapon into its neck. 

Beside him, Rick stabbed one of the last two guards in the neck, and it didn’t take long after for Sydney to bury his hatchet into the back of the last guards head, this time having to kick it off of his weapon because he had hit it from the back and not the front. He watched as it hit the ground, before he glanced up, looking around the surrounding area for any more walkers that could be around. He didn’t spot any, only the ones that had been taken care off and were on the ground and the ones that were currently rattling the fence they had locked them behind. 

Glenn moved towards where they had originally come in, where the rest of the group seemed to be awaiting them back. “Stop.” Rick told the other, before he could reach the gate. 

“It looks secure.” Glenn said. 

“Not from the look of that courtyard over there.” Daryl pointed towards the fence with the workers behind it, “And that’s a civilian.” He pointed out one of the dead walkers they had killed on the way in, a girl who was wearing a beige dress— definitely not a prisoner. 

Sydney chewed on his lip nervously, “So the inside could be overrun with walkers from outside the prison?” 

“Well, if there’s walls down, what are we gonna do?” Glenn brought up what everyone else had probably been thinking, “We can’t rebuild this whole place.” 

“We can’t risk a blind spot. We have to push in.” Rick pointed his weapon in the direction of a fenced in walkway, before moving over to it. 

Sydney wiped his hatchet blade off onto his pants, removing most of the blood and grime that had been caught on it from the walker’s, beyond caring that it got on his clothes at this point. As they all began to follow Rick, he looked over at the gate where the rest of the group was, who all had a confused look on their faces. 

They had only planned to clear the courtyard today, after all. 

The fenced in walkway contained a small set of stairs that led up to a sliding metal door, which Rick and Daryl both opened together. Inside of that was another barred door, and Sydney half expected the thing to be locked, but as Rick easily pushed it open with nothing but a squeak, he realized that wasn’t the case. 

Sydney closed the sliding door behind them, shutting them off from the outside, as they began to move farther past the door. He immediately noticed how a mess the place was, all sorts of things thrown down on the floor and dirt and dust collecting on just about anything you could touch. It must have been the common area for the prisoners, because there were a couple sets of tables with attached seats and an office for the guard to watch over the prisoners in. From his spot on the ground level, he could see the back of presumably a guards head and a splatter of blood on the window of the office. 

Someone had taken the easy way out. 

He watched as Rick climbed the stairs to the guards office, as he moved past the tables and clutter to the other side of the room where there was another door— he tugged on it, and it made a clanging noise, indicating that this one was indeed locked. Sydney looked past the bars, realizing it was a cell block, as he could tell from the open cell doors. 

From above him, he heard the soft jingling of keys from the guard office, and he glanced up to see Rick holding a ring of a bunch of different keys. Must have been the guards. 

By the time he got down to Sydney and Daryl, he handed off another set of keys to Daryl, before Rick moved to open the cell door that was currently locked. 

It was a lot of keys for one ring, but hey, it was a prison— and if they were for the entire prison, they did probably need a lot. 

It only took a couple minutes before Rick got lucky and the cell door clicked, finally opening as he gave it a little push, allowing them to push farther into the prison. 

There were two floors of prison cells and a set of metal stairs leading to the second set of cells. It was more than enough for everyone to stay in, especially when he realized that there were bunk beds in each cell as well. 

Sydney peeked his head into each cell on the bottom floor, checking for any walkers or… anything really. All the cell doors on the bottom were open, which meant that they had probably been open at the start by the guards or the prisoners when everything first went to shit. The only thing he found that was of interest was a person who was already dead, slumped against the back wall of the cell with his brains blown out and his blood splattered on the wall behind him. He kicked its foot, waiting for a reaction, and when there was none he grabbed the walker by the feet and dragged it out of the room. 

He left it in the main area, figuring they could dispose of them later, before he followed after Rick and Daryl, who had gone up the stairs a couple moments earlier. Everything seemed to be the same on the second floor, except that two of the cell doors appeared to be shut, and it didn’t take long for Sydney to figure out that there was a walker in each of them when he watched Rick and Daryl stab them in the heads from on the other side of the cell. 

Had they just not been let out when everything had gone to shit, or were they locked in there because they had already turned? 

He hoped it had been the latter. 

By the time that the rest of the group had been led into the cell block (C block, he realized after seeing it printed onto the prison wall) by Glenn, Sydney had dragged the three bodies into a pile so they could easily be disposed of whenever they got around to it. 

“What do you think?” Rick asked the newcomers. 

Glenn laughed, “Home sweet home.” 

He looked up and saw Randall coming towards him, and he realized the other had brought his bag and sleeping bag in for him. “Thanks.” He told the teen, taking both of his things off the other’s hands. 

“For the time being.” Rick had paused in front of the people who had just come in. 

“It’s secure?” Carol questioned, looking around. 

Rick nodded, “This cellblock is.” 

“What about the rest of the prison?” Hershel implored. 

“In the morning, we’ll find the cafeteria and infirmary.” Rick informed them. 

“We sleep in the cells?” Beth asked, her eyes sweeping over the cells. 

“Yes, I found keys on some guards.” Rick explained, “Daryl has a set too.” 

“I ain’t sleeping in no cage.” Daryl grunted from the second floor, “I’ll take the perch.” 

Sydney moved towards the stairs again, deciding he would take one of the cells that was up there. He couldn’t lie and say it didn’t make him nervous to sleep in a cell, the fact that the door could be shut on him at any moment, but he pushed it away— it’s not as if anyone would do that, and plus, there were two sets of keys. He picked the first cell that he walked up to, the one that was adjacent to the walkway to the stairs, dropping his bag on the floor and his sleeping bag on top of the bottom bunk mattress. It was a little dusty of course, but as he took a seat on the mattress, he couldn’t help but think it was the most comfortable thing he had touched in months. 

“Sydney?” He looked up at the sound of Randall’s voice, seeing the other standing there with his backpack and his sleeping bag. 

“Hey Randall.” He gave the teen a small smile, “What can I do for you?” 

“Uhh…” Randall shifted from what foot to the other, “Can I bunk with you?” 

Sydney had figured the other would want to either bunk by himself or with Jimmy, but apparently he had been wrong. “Oh, sure kid. I don’t mind.” He quickly realized he had given up bottom bunk privileges, because of Randall’s leg, but he didn’t mind too much. He threw his sleeping bag on top, allowing for the other to set his stuff on the bottom bunk. He watched as Randall leaned his cane against the bunk, before another thing popped to mind, “You still got some pills left?” 

Randall looked slightly caught off guard by the question, “Oh yeah. I still got a bit left, I’m tryna save them, I think my leg has been doing a little better.” 

“That’s good.” Sydney puts his foot on the bar in between the two bunk beds, hoisting himself up onto the top bunk. It doesn’t take him long to unzip his sleeping bag and roll it out, using it as a barrier between the mattress and him. As he laid down, staring up at the dark grey ceiling, he felt pretty confident that this was going to work out.

All they had to do was take their time and work their way through the rest of the prison. 

Sydney awoke with a start, shooting upright from his position on the bunk, his heart pounding in his chest. Of course, he once again couldn’t remember what he had dreamed about, but it was enough to wake him up in a cold sweat. He pushed his hands through his hair and gripped at the curls, and then pushing them out of the way— it only served to remind him of how much longer his hair had gotten and how much he needed a haircut. 

It was then he noticed a small light coming from the hallway, and he figured it was one of the portable lanterns that they had picked up along the way that were battery powered. 

From this angle, he couldn’t see anything, but he heard voices. 

“Get off me, woman!” 

“Daryl, please—“ 

“I already told you to screw off before—“ 

Confused, he scooted to the edge of the bunk bed and slipped off the edge, feeling his feet hit the ground. It was almost pitch black, the only light being the slight glow from outside the cell door, and he glanced at the direction in which he knew Randall was laying. He could hear his shallow breathing, and he could tell that the other was still sleeping. 

He hadn’t realized who the other person was until he stepped out of the cell, and Carol immediately pushed past him, sniffling and crying. 

What the hell? 

He spotted Daryl sitting up on his sleeping bag, the flow of lantern showing a slightly irritated and disturbed look on the rednecks face. Sydney scrubbed a hand over his face, feeling as if he was still half asleep, as he moved closer to the other. 

“What happened?” He asked Daryl, once he had gotten in front of him. 

Daryl looked up at him, and then at where Carol had gone off too, “Nothin’.” He settled on. 

Sydney looked around, but it seemed as if no one else was awake, all the other flashlights or lanterns from the cells had been turned off— and there was no sign of anyone else. Without another thought he sat down, crossing his legs on the edge of Daryl’s sleeping bag and facing the other. “Nothing usually makes women cry?” He retorted. 

If the other was annoyed that Sydney had decided to sit with him, he didn’t say anything about it. “Just can’t take no for an answer.” Daryl grunted. 

He raised an eyebrow, thinking of how Carol had gone off crying. “Who? Carol?” He questioned, “She tryna put the moves on you?” Sydney thought it was odd, having never seen the woman show an interest in Daryl— if anything, she seemed to spend most of her time with Lori. 

Daryl didn’t seem to like the way that Sydney had worded it, “Somethin’ like that. Wish she would leave me the hell alone.” 

“Not a little lonely in this apocalypse?” Sydney couldn’t help but tease the other, but he supposed that he wasn’t one to talk— though it’s not as if he had anyone to be with in the group anyways in perfect circumstances. 

“Nah. ‘m fine on my own.” Daryl told him. 

“Not even a girlfriend before this?” It was a little weird to think of Daryl before the apocalypse, maybe because he seemed to fit well into the scenario, as if he was built for this type of thing. Sydney figured it had to do with how the other carried himself— doing well with a crossbow and all the weapons available, being able to hunt, etc. 

Daryl snorted, “Nah. Was always just me and my brother, Merle. He was enough of a pain in the ass.” 

Huh. He’d never heard the other mention his brother before, or anyone in fact, despite the fact that Sydney knew that at one point that Merle had been in the group— even if it had been a long time ago. Though Daryl didn’t know that he had learned this information from Sophia and if it hadn’t been for her, he would know nothing. “Mind if I ask what happened to him?” 

The other shrugged, “Merle’s a bit of an asshole, never knows what to shut his trap. Wasn’t with them when it happened but he got a little rowdy and he ended up handcuffed on a roof by Rick.” If Daryl was upset talking about it, he seemed to do well with hiding his emotions, though it wouldn’t have been much a surprise to begin with. “T-Dog dropped the key. We went back for him but he’d already cut himself loose and was long gone.” Daryl explained. 

“Cut himself loose?” Sydney raised his eyebrows. 

“Crazy bastard cut his own hand off.” Daryl added, and Sydney bit back a choked noise of surprise, having not expected that. 

“Hold up, he what?” 

“Yeah. Wish he would’ve thought to wait longer than a day.” Daryl sounded almost annoyed, which he thought weird considering the situation, “Guess he thought I didn’t care enough to come back for him.” 

“I’m sure he didn’t think that.” Sydney defended the guy that might not even be alive, “Being trapped like that would make anyone crazy.” 

Daryl gave him a look, “You wouldn’t say that if you knew Merle.” 

“I’ll have to take your word for it.” He smiled, before he took a moment to look around the cell block. Through the prison bars to the outside, the moon was high in the sky, and sometimes he just wished to know what time it was exactly. There was only ever guessing now, an idea of what time of day it was— and it had to be past midnight at this point, too late for either of them to be up. “Why are you up so late anyways?” Sydney questioned. 

“I was tryna sleep.” The other grumbled, looking in the direction that Carol had gone off in. 

That made Sydney realize that he had been technically keeping the other up, by continuing to talk to him. “Oh, guess I’ve been not really helping much then.” He said, matter of factly, passing his palms down on the cold ground of the prison floor to push himself to his feet. “I should try and get some sleep anyways.” He added. 

Daryl didn’t say anything for a moment, and Sydney continued to stand there through the silence, as if waiting for the other to say something. 

“I don’t mind that much.” Daryl said finally, “Nice to talk once in a while.” 

Sydney could have lit up like a Christmas tree had he had the energy to do so, giving the other a small smile. “Night, Daryl.” He said before he turned to go back to his cell. 

“Night.” 

Chapter Text

As soon as they left cell block C and they were into the darkness of the rest of the prison, a pit of dread had settled into Sydney’s lower gut. He’s not sure how all of a sudden he became one of the people that went on these little trips, but he would have to guess it was because T-Dog wasn’t around anymore. Now it was just him, Rick, Daryl, Maggie, Glenn, and Hershel. He had been fitted with some of the uniforms from the prison guards, wearing the bullet-proof vest strapped around his upper body— Daryl and Rick were the only ones that weren’t wearing them. He had switched out his hatchet for some sort of fire poker and the shield he had gotten from one of the bodies of the guards, though his hatchet was still safely strapped to his thigh in case he needed it. Sydney had figured that if he had to get anything in such close quarters in the dark, something like a fire poker would be easier than his hatchet.

Even though it was all a prison, the other cell blocks seemed way worse off than the part of the prison that they had cleaned out for themselves. As they moved past the cells, the only sound of their footsteps and Glenn spray painting the wall with arrows so they didn’t get lost, he couldn’t stop looking at the bodies of the former prisoners as the other’s flashlights passed over them.

Some of them were completely torn apart, the upper half separated from the bottom half, others with their guts pouring out of their stomach— the decayed body that was missing the bottom part of its legs because they had been completely chewed off. He couldn’t help but shudder, imagining what the people in this prison had to go through when this all started— stuck and nowhere to go. 

He glanced behind him nervously, even though he could barely see a couple of feet, before he looked back towards the group— and let out a surprised gasp as he stumbled right into Glenn’s back, who also made a noise of surprise.

The others had turned their back, probably thinking something was wrong before they realized it had just been Sydney.

“Sorry.” He muttered sheepishly. 

They kept moving, carefully stepping over the decayed and deceased walkers, every so often hearing the soft hiss of the spray can. 

Everything seemed to be going alright, which always seemed to be before any disaster until they rounded a corner and Sydney collided with Glenn’s back as they abruptly stopped. He couldn’t see anything from this angle, but from his standing point, he could hear the soft growling and hissing of walkers.

“Go back,” Rick said urgently, voice quiet, in an attempt to not alert the walkers— but it appeared it was already too late.

The walkers had already begun to stumble after them from the looks of it, and he knew by just the sounds that it wasn’t just a few. “Go back! Move!” Rick said louder this time, and suddenly everyone was almost falling over each other, in an attempt to turn around.

Have you ever tried running through the pitch black with only a flashlight to lead your way? And something was trying to eat you?

Beside him, Hershel stumbled on a walker and fell, his body smacking against the wall. Sydney grabbed onto the older man, pulling him hard enough that he came back to an upright position. “Let’s go.” He told him, loudly, over the sound of the walkers. 

“This way!” Rick shouted. 

It seemed as if suddenly there were more walkers than before, probably having been disrupted when they had started running through the hallways— and they were at every other turn they tried to take. “Shit.” Sydney cursed as he fell into a walker, the only reason he wasn’t grabbed is that he had shoved the shield against the decayed body and pushed him back. 

They had barely scraped inside of a room when he noticed that Maggie and Glenn were nowhere to be seen, looking around frantically, realizing that they must have been cut off and had to hide somewhere else. Outside of the door, walkers growled and stumbled around, and Sydney sucked in a breath, trying to control himself.

“Where’s Glenn and Maggie?” He asked.

Hershel looked around, “We have to go back.”

“But which way?” Daryl was gripping onto his crossbow, an arrow at the ready for any of the walkers that got too close, crouched down with the others. 

Rick stood up, holding his gun pointed to the floor as he looked out the grate of the door, waiting for a good time for them to go. It only took a moment for the walkers to finally pass by, as Rick slowly pushed up the heavy metal door. It squeaked in protest, and Sydney practically cringed at the sound, but it hadn’t seemed to catch the notice of the walkers that had just passed by. 

He followed after Rick and Daryl, glancing behind him to make sure that the older man was still behind him once they had exited the room. They moved quickly but swiftly, the flashlights swinging back and forth down the hallways as they desperately searched for the pair that hadn’t gotten cut off from them. This was not what they had planned when they had come down here, and he couldn’t help but wonder if it was a mistake in the first place.

“Maggie? Glenn?” Sydney called out, in hopes that they would hear, but also worried about attracting the attention of something else. 

They moved down another corridor, but just as they passed the intersection, he couldn’t help but notice that Hershel had paused, turning down the right path as if he heard something. Sydney glanced behind him, blinked, and tapped Daryl on the shoulder to indicate that they had to turn back to follow after the other. 

Just as Sydney rounded the corner, he was given the front row seat to watch as a walker grasped Hershel's ankle and sunk its teeth into his leg. 

That was when the screaming began. 

From both Hershel, in pain, and Sydney, who screamed out in terror at the sight before him. 

“No!” Rick shouted from behind him, as Hershel fell forward to the ground, the leader pulled out his gun and swiftly fired a bullet into the walker who had been attached to the older man.

Maggie and Glenn appeared in front of them, around the corner, and the eldest daughter of the other cried out as she took in the situation before her. 

“Shit, c’mon.” Rick heaved Hershel up, throwing one of the other’s arms over his shoulder as Glenn rushed to help.

Sydney noticed the walkers who had appeared at the end of the hall, “Daryl!” He called out to the other, pointing at the upcoming enemies. 

“Go! Go, go, go!” Daryl yelled as he fired an arrow into the closest walker, but just as they turned around to go back the way they had come, it was already filled with walkers. 

“We’re blocked! Get back!” Sydney called out to them, urging them down the other hallway that Glenn and Maggie had recently come from. Hershel was still wailing in pain, being dragged by the other two men, looking like a ragdoll in their arms.

“Open the door!” Maggie shouted, just as they stopped short in front of a pair of double doors that were strangely handcuffed together. 

Sydney slipped his fire poker through the handles and pulled, breaking the cuffs in one pull and yanking the doors open as fast he could. “Get in!” He shouted, urging the others in, panicking as he saw how close the walkers had gotten to them in such a short time.

Rick had laid Hershel down onto the ground, Maggie and Glenn hovering over the both of them, a horrified look on their face.

The walkers banged against the door, and Sydney had to drop the shield to shove his entire weight against one of the doors. “Daryl! Help!” He pushed against the door, huffing with struggle as the things on the other side of the door pushed back, the door rattling. 

Daryl had shoved his weight against the other side as well, as Sydney pushed the fire poker through the handles, grunting at the give that was being pressured from the other side of the door. “Have you got it?” Glenn called out. 

“Got it.” Sydney wheezed, leaning back against the door, glancing at Daryl who was in the middle of reloading his crossbow.

When he looked over, Rick was already midway through pulling his belt off, and he didn’t think this could get any worse, but he knew it could as the leader tightened the belt around Hershel’s leg and above the bite. 

“Hold him down,” Rick ordered, who almost didn’t even look sure of what he was doing at the moment. “Sydney, give me your hatchet.” He looked at the brunette.

“What?” He said in shock.

“Give me your hatchet!” 

Sydney stumbled, hands shaking as he pulled the weapon from his holster, tossing it to Rick who caught it swiftly. Oh god, oh god, oh god. There’s no way this could be real.

“Only one way to keep him alive,” Rick said plainly, as he lifted his arm, hatchet high in the air just before he brought it down on Hershel’s leg.

Hershel screamed at the pain, and his daughter sobbed from her position of holding his head in her arms, her hands caressing over his face in some way of comfort.

Sydney watched as Rick brought down his weapon over and over again, trying to hold back vomit at the soft squelching sound it made as the bottom half of the leg finally came free from the rest of Hershel’s body. 

Hershel had stopped screaming at this point, and he would only hope that the other had passed out, and wasn’t dead.

Rick looked about as horrified as he felt, looking like he was going to puke as he looked at the blood that had splattered all over his hand from Hershel’s leg. He looked as if he didn’t believe what he had just done. “Oh.” Rick dropped the bloodied hatchet, swaying in his spot, staring down at the amputation in shock. “He’s bleeding out.” The leader said as if that hadn’t already been apparent, blood squirting from the wound.

Sydney was still backed against the door, though the banging had stopped, just staring as the blood pooled onto the floor below the group. “Duck.” He heard Daryl whisper to those on the floor, and Sydney looked over in time to see a group of people standing behind a grate, staring at them.

Daryl had pointed his crossbow at them, standing up, wasting no time as he crossed the room and moved closer to the strangers.

Sydney shook himself from whatever daze he had gotten himself in, stepping away from the door, and almost feeling sick as he glanced down and saw his hatchet— covered in Hershel’s blood. With his other weapon stuck in the door, he was given no other option than to pick up the hatchet, dripping with fresh blood.

“Holy shit.” One of the people said, a blonde guy, who Sydney quickly realized was wearing a prison jumpsuit. 

“Who the hell are you?” Daryl asked them, crossbow resided. 

Sydney grimaced and wiped his hatchet off onto his pants before he slipped it back into its holster. “He’s bleeding out, we gotta go back.” Rick was pushing some fabric against the stump, desperately trying to control the bleeding. 

“Who the hell are you?” One of the prisoners parroted back. 

“Maggie, come around here. Put pressure on the knee.” He was showing her what to do, hands over hers, “Hard, hard! You gotta push.” 

“Why don’t you come on out of there? Slow and steady.” Daryl asked them, but he had a feeling that he wasn’t asking. 

The group of them slowly came out, one by one, and Sydney counted five of them off the bat— as long as someone wasn’t hiding in the back. Three of them were darker-skinned, while the other two were more of a pasty white color, and they were all still dressed in the prisoner outfits that they had probably been wearing since the start. A couple of them were wearing the jumpsuit completely buttoned up, and others had taken off the top part, leaving them in a white wife-beater. 

“What happened to him?” The one in the front asked, who he assumed was the leader— he was darker-skinned and bald, maybe a little taller than Daryl was. It was hard to not immediately notice the gun that was tucked into the front of his jumpsuit. 

Daryl didn’t take his eyes off of them, “He got bit.”

The prison leader’s eyes strayed to the body on the ground, and his hand moved to the pistol that he had been harboring. “Bit?” He said. 

Sydney immediately un-holstered his gun, pointing it at the group of prisoners. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy now. Nobody needs to get hurt.” Daryl reasoned. 

“You have medical supplies?” Glenn had brushed past the prisoners without a second thought, to where they had originally come from— not waiting to hear a response. A racket began to erupt from behind the grate, but Sydney could see what Glenn was doing from this angle. 

“Who the hell are you people?” The leader asked with snark to his tone. 

“Don’t look like no rescue team.” Another one of them piped up, he was blonde with an unkempt mustache, and he looked like he was probably in his late thirties. 

Rescue team? How long had they been back there? 

Glenn had come back from the other room, and this time he was rolling a sort of table with wheels ahead of him. He supposed it had been used to carry the food trays on or something, but it was big enough to place a body on and push easily. 

“If a rescue team is what you’re waiting for, don’t,” Rick grunted as he wrapped his arms around Hershel, with the help of Glenn and Maggie, heaving the unconscious older man onto the table. “Come on, we gotta go. Now!” The leader ordered as he pushed on the table, moving closer to the door. “Let’s go! Sydney, get the door!” It was clear that at this moment they didn’t have time to be dealing with these prisoners, and they had to focus on getting Hershel back to their cell block. 

“Are you crazy? Don’t open that!” Another one of the prisoners said, but Sydney had already begun to pull the fire poker out of the two handles. He snatched his shield off the ground just as he swung one of the doors open— thankfully there was only one walker on the other side, a prison guard with full uniform. Sydney pushed it against the unopened door with the help of the shield, shoving the fire poker under its face shield and into its neck, killing it. 

“C’mon!” Sydney urged, sticking his head out the door, scanning his eyes down the hallway. 

“We got this,” Rick told the prisoners, eyes ahead, as he began to push the cart out the door. 

When they had finally got back to the cellblock, Hershel had been rushed inside by the others while Daryl and Sydney had remained in the outer part of the cell block. He could hear the surprised voices of a couple of people, a commotion going on in the cell block as everyone probably rushed to the aid of Hershel. He wasn’t even sure who would be able to help— Hershel was the one who helped the injured people, and he was also the guy who was supposed to help deliver Lori’s baby. The older man had been teaching Carol and Lori a couple of things, but he’s sure that only had to do with baby-related things and not…. amputations. 

The door into cellblock C had been locked shut behind them, but the door coming into the rec room was wide open— it had been apparent on the way in that the prisoners had not kept to their little place when they heard them following after them as they rushed to get Hershel back to the cell block.

Sydney was leaning with his back against a pillar, glancing over at Daryl, who was standing with a leg up on one of the tables, staring at the door and reloading his crossbow. 

He unclipped his gun, not pulling it out yet, but he was ready at any moment to.

Footsteps began to grow closer and closer, and Sydney pushed himself off the wall and stood up straight. Slowly, figures began to appear from out of the darkness of the rest of the prison, the one he assumed to be the leader coming through first. They all looked weary to be there, and he figured that they should— he’s not sure what kind of risks Rick would take to keep this prison. 

“That’s far enough,” Daryl told them once all five of them had appeared through the doorway. 

“Cell Block C. Cell 4— that’s mine. Let me in.” The leader stated, eyes locked on Daryl’s, who still had his crossbow pointed at them. 

“Today’s your lucky day, fellas.” Daryl scoffed, “You’ve been pardoned by the state of Georgia. You’re free to go.” 

“What you got going on in there?” The other features towards the entrance to his cell block.

“It ain’t none of your concern.” Daryl snapped. 

That seemed to piss the leader off, as he drew his gun from his waistband again, “Don't be telling me what’s my concern.” 

Sydney once again, drew his gun after the other had, pointing it at the group of them. He was fine with staying mostly silent and letting Daryl handle this one, he did seem to be doing okay currently. 

“Dexter, calm down.” The blonde prisoner said, revealing the leader of the group to be named Dexter, “That guy’s leg is messed up. Besides, we’re free now. Why are we still here?” 

“The man’s got a point,” Daryl told them. 

“Yeah, and I gotta check on my old lady.” Another of the prisoners sighed, and Sydney found himself perplexed at the statement. 

“A group of civilians breaking into a prison you got no business being in— got me thinking there ain’t no place for us to go,” Dexter added in, and well, Sydney couldn’t deny that he was right about that. 

Daryl squinted at them, irritated, “Why don’t you go find out?” 

“Maybe…” The blonde guy began, glancing back at the door they had come from, “Maybe we’ll just be going now.” 

“Hey, we ain’t leaving,” Dexter said, anger seeping into his voice. 

“You’re not coming in either.” Sydney finally spoke up, audibly clicking the safety off of his gun. 

Dexter had also raised his gun at this point, in the direction of both Sydney and Daryl. “This is my house, my rules! I go where I damn well please.” His gun cocked, moving between the two of them. The rest of the prisoners looked uneasy by this conversation, seemingly preferring to stay out of it. 

“It’s not your house anymore. So leave.” Daryl raised his voice, matching the other’s volume. 

“We were here first! We ain’t leaving!” 

“Hell, you ain’t!” 

“Just leave before things have to escalate.” Sydney butted in, nervous at how the other two were arguing. 

“I’ll show you escalation when I put a bullet in your head.” Dexter snapped. 

“Try it, I dare you.” He threw back, though he supposed there was no real threat there. “See how far that gets you.” He added after a second thought. 

“Death sentence for you and all your little buddies.” Daryl taunted. “I ain’t gonna tell you again, leave!” He continued. 

Maybe Sydney and Daryl weren’t the best two to handle this situation. 

“And I already told you—“ 

“There ain’t nothing for you here! Why don’t you go back to your sandbox?” Daryl argued.

The door to the cell block creaked open, and it wasn’t long before Rick had come around the corner— presumably to help settle things down. “Hey, Hey! Everyone relax, there’s no need for this.” He said, over the loud voices of Daryl and Dexter. 

Dexter glanced at where Rick had come from, gun still raised, “How many of you in there?” 

“Too many for you to handle,” Rick said coldly. 

Sydney’s eyes swept over the prisoners, and he wondered if they were all loaded with guns how that situation would change. Of course, they had strength in numbers, but there were only a couple of them who could fight at this point. They had an extremely pregnant woman, two kids, three teenagers and, one with a busted leg, now amputee— they were a mess, to say the least. 

“You guys rob a bank or something? Why don’t you take him to a hospital?” Dexter asked as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Sydney glanced at Daryl and Rick, who were giving him the same look back. These guys must have no idea what was going on. 

“How long have you been locked in that cafeteria?” Rick questioned. 

Dexter looked between the three of them, rolling his shoulders, “Going on like ten months.” 

Holy shit. 

“A riot broke out. Never seen anything like it.” One of the prisoners explained. 

“Attica on speed, man.” The blonde one added. 

“Ever heard about dudes going cannibal, dying, coming back to life?” The one who looked the youngest of them all asked as if they all hadn’t been dealing with that for almost the past year, “Crazy.” 

“One guard looked out for us, locked us up in the cafeteria.” Dexter began, “Told us to sit tight, threw me this piece, said he’d be right back.” And then he never came back. 

“Yeah, and that was two hundred ninety-two days ago.” One of the others said. 

“Ninety-four according to my calcula—“ 

The blonde man was cut off sharply by Dexter, “Shut up Axel!” 

Sydney watched as he brought his eyes to the ground, looking dejected. 

“We were thinking that the army or national guard should be showing up any day now.” 

“There is no army,” Rick said plainly. 

“What do you mean?” 

“There is no government, no hospitals, no police. It’s all gone.” Rick continued. 

“For real?” Axel said, in shock. 

Rick sighed, “Serious.” 

“What about my moms?” 

“My kids? And my old lady?” 

“Yo, you got a cell phone or something that we can call our families on?” 

Sydney wanted to slap a palm against his face. 

“You just don’t get it, do you?” Daryl butted in, still sounding irritated. 

Rick nodded, “No phones, no computers. As far as we can see, at least half the population has been wiped out. Probably more.” He briefly wondered what the actual number was. 

“Ain’t no way,” Dexter said in disbelief. 

“... See for yourself.” 

The door opened into the courtyard, the sun flooding in and washing over all of them. Sydney longed to go back to their cell block, see how Hershel was doing, check-in on Sophia and Randall— but clearly, that wasn’t happening anytime soon. 

“Damn, the sun feels good.” Oscar, he found out his name was, said as they stepped out into the courtyard. The bodies that they had killed on the way in were still strewn over the yard, and he realized eventually they would have to drag them all away. 

“Good lord... they’re all dead.” Axel was looking at said bodies, a forlorn look on his face. 

Dexter let out a sigh as they moved around the courtyard, staring off at the fences, “Never thought I’d be so happy to see these fences.” 

“You never said— how the hell did you get in here in the first place?” It was Andrew who had spoken, he’s sure that’s what Oscar had said his name was when he had rushedly told him their names. 

Daryl pointed across the courtyard and the yard, “Cut a hole in that fence over there by that guard tower.” 

“That easy, huh?” Apparently. 

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way.” Daryl shrugged. 

“Easy for you to say.” Andrew retorted. 

“Is this some sort of disease?” The final prisoner asked and it was the one that didn’t seem to speak much— Sydney had almost barely noticed him. He said his name was Thomas. He was an older man, with dark hair that was almost not visible on his balding head and behind his pair of square glasses (they reminded him of his grandpa) was a pair of dark eyes. 

“Yeah, and we’re all infected,” Rick said and reminded Sydney of something that he didn’t like to be reminded of. 

“What do you mean infected?” Axel questioned them, “Like AIDS or something?” 

“If I was to kill you, shoot an arrow in your chest, you’d come back as one of these things.” Daryl pointed to one of the dead walkers on the ground, “It’s gonna happen to all of us.” 

“Ain’t no way these Robin Hood cats responsible for killing all these freaks.” Dexter scoffed, idly kicking a dead body that was on the ground. 

“Must be fifty bodies out here.” Andrew agreed, who seemed to be the one to jump to Dexter’s defense at any moment. The other three seemed content to keep to themselves, and would more likely listen to Rick’s word when he told them what to do. That didn’t seem to be the case with the other two though, and unfortunately, one of them appeared to be the leader. 

Dexter turned around and walked closer to Rick, “Where’d you come from?” 

“Atlanta.” 

Dexter nodded, a little hum in his throat, “Where are you headed?” 

Rick raised an eyebrow, “For now, nowhere.” 

The other leader nodded again, as if he was taking in this information— or that he cared at all. “I guess you can take that area down there near the water.” He pointed across the field, “Should be comfortable.” 

Rick glanced over at Daryl, with an almost ‘are you serious’ look to him, his lips twitching into a smile, “We’re using that field for crops.” 

“We’ll help you move your gear out.” Dexter shot back. 

Rick laughed, “That won’t be necessary. We took these walkers. This prison is ours.” 

“Slow down, cowboy.” Dexter shook his head, holding his out as if it was a peace gesture. 

Andrew moved up to stand beside Dexter, “You snatched the locks off our doors.” 

“We’ll give you new locks if that’s how you want it,” Rick told them. 

Dexter looked as if he was becoming increasingly annoyed with this conversation, “This is our prison. We were here first.” 

“Locked in a broom closet?” Rick chuckled, as if it was funny in some way, “We took it, set you free. It’s ours. We spilled blood.” His voice had lowered slightly, the threatening edge added to it. 

“We’re moving back into our cellblock.” 

Sydney, who was currently fine with watching from the sidelines, couldn’t help but think that this Dexter guy wasn’t going to quit it. How many times does one person need to be told no? 

“You’ll have to get your own.” 

“It is mine. I’ve still got personal artifacts in there!” Dexter raised his voice, hand moving to draw his gun (again), “That’s about as mine as it gets.” 

Just like that, weapons were drawn again— Daryl pointing his crossbow at Dexter’s head and Sydney doing the same. This guy was turning out to be a lot more trouble than he had originally looked. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Axel had stepped up next to Rick and Dexter, clearly wanting to diffuse the situation, “Maybe let’s try to make this work out so everybody wins?” 

“I don’t see that happening.” Dexter’s eyes were locked on Rick’s— it looked as if they were having a stand-off with their eyes. 

“Neither do I.” Rick agreed. 

Dexter squinted at the other, “I ain’t going back in that cafeteria for one more minute.” 

“There are other cell blocks,” Axel explained, as if it wasn’t obvious, looking at Dexter— trying to make him see reason. He sure hoped that the other would see it because when he looked in Rick’s eyes, he saw the murder. He saw that Rick would do anything to keep this prison, including killing anyone who tried to take it from them. 

“You could leave.” Daryl stated from behind his crossbow, “Try your luck out on the road.” 

Dexter didn’t tear his gaze away from Rick when his shoulders relaxed suddenly, “If these three pussies can do all this—“ He started, “The least we can do is take out another cell block.” 

“With what?” Oscar questioned. 

Dexter smirked, “Atlanta here will spot us some real weapons. Won't you, boss?” He directed it towards Rick, who looked like he was thinking about it— maybe he was thinking if it would be easier to just kill the other or not. 

“How stocked is that cafeteria? It must have plenty of food. Five guys lasting almost a year?” 

“It sure as hell don’t look like anybody’s been starving.” Daryl scoffed, eyes sweeping over the group before them. 

“There’s only a little left,” Dexter said, clearly not wanting to part with the food. 

“We’ll take half.” Rick decided, “In exchange, we’ll help clear out a cell block.” 

“Didn’t you hear him? There’s only a little left!” Andrew argued. 

Rick didn’t seem to care too much, “Bet you got more food than you got choices. You pay, we'll play. We'll clear out a block for you, then you keep to it.”

Dexter glanced at the person to his right, Andrew, making eye contact for a moment before he turned his attention back to Rick, “All right.” 

Rick nodded in agreement, but he wasn’t done yet. “But let's be clear— if we see you out here anywhere near our people if I so much as even catch a whiff of your scent—“ Rick stepped closer to the other, his eyes looking into Dexter’s, “I will kill you.” 

As Dexter said, “Deal.” Sydney didn’t doubt for one second that Rick was lying about what he would do, and he just prayed that this group would listen.

Chapter Text

Sydney felt much better after they had gotten their share of the food from the prisoners, quickly learning that they do like to stretch the truth. The amount of food they got from them will give them a huge leap of getting settled into the prison, a little more time before they have to go scavenging into a nearby town. It’s never ideal, having to feed thirteen people (plus Lori’s additional one) because even with loads and loads of food it never seems to be enough. 

He was already beyond exhausted, this bad and the day had barely seemed to have started. He had stopped in one of the cells for a moment, to check in on Hershel, who was laid upon a prison bed and being overlooked by Lori, Jimmy, and his daughter, Maggie. She looked in pretty rough shape, but there were only so many people around that could help with such in-depth wounds. The person who mostly took care of injuries was currently the one with the injury, and Sydney hadn’t realized how little everyone knew of how to take care of someone who was injured. Maggie and Jimmy only know so much from Hershel himself, and he wondered what the hell they would do if Hershel didn’t come out alive on the other side. Especially when Lori was so close to her due date, looking like she was about to pop any moment. 

At moments like this, he misses the farm. He wondered what it looked like there now if all the walkers had passed through and they were long gone by now. Maybe one day they could make it back there, see for themselves. 

Probably not. 

He scrubs a hand over his face, letting out a small sigh, as he realizes that his day is far from over. They still have to clear a cell for the five prisoners, even though being around them puts him incredibly on edge. He tries to not hate the fact that he has just become one of the people who goes out and does dangerous things, but there are only so many options. Maggie and Glenn would usually help in this scenario, but Maggie is down for the count and Glenn was not going to leave her side. 

“Sydney?” 

He looked up at the sound of his voice and he spotted Sophia, a few feet away from him, and he still would not get used to the look of the gun strapped to her side. Sometimes it made him sad how much she seemed to have grown up in the months that have passed, already not the same little girl that had been on the farm with him. “Hey, Sophia, what’s up?” He questions, stepping a bit closer to her, “Also, you’re definitely going to be taller than Carl. Just give it another couple of months and I swear.” He jokes, spotting Carl on the set of stairs behind them, who squinted at Sydney upon hearing his name. 

“Shhh. Don’t let him find out! I’m gonna surprise him.” Sophia says smugly, hands on her hips. He’s happy that the two seemed to have some sort of bond after the little girl not liking the ‘annoying’ kid at the farm. But, when there are only two of you around the same age there isn’t any other choice but to get along. The mood shifts slightly as Sophia glances behind him, at the exit to the cellblock where the prisoners were with Daryl and Rick, “Who are those men? I could hear them talking before.” 

“Prisoners. They’d been trapped in the cafeteria this whole time, we are gonna help them clear out a cell block.” He says, almost uneasily. 

Sophia’s eyebrows furrow, “They’re going to be staying here too?”

He felt the same way about that as well. “I know, but technically they were here before us and we can’t exactly kick them out. I’m going to help them clear the cell block, but I’ll be back after that, okay? Just hang out with Carl in the meantime and maybe check in with Lori and see if they need any help with Hershel.” Sydney smiles down at the little girl, wondering when he somehow had adopted a kid whose mother was still around. Surprisingly, Sophia didn’t seem to mind too much that Carol wasn’t around much and just stayed in her cell most of the day. 

“Okay … but be safe!” Sophia instructs him, almost sternly. 

God, he would do anything to keep that kid, safe.

By the time that Sydney had joined up with Rick, Daryl, and the prisoners, they had already been given some weapons to help and he was brought up to speed by Daryl. He somehow didn’t feel good about this plan, going into the darkness with a bunch of prisoners who had been trapped in a cafeteria for god knows how many months and having no idea what they were even in prison for in the first place. 

He gripped his hatchet in his hand, glancing at Daryl who was beside him as they moved. It was eerily quiet throughout the prison, something that managed to put him more on edge. They shuffled along the corridors until they came to a halt at the request of Daryl who held his hand open. Groans and moans could be heard from around the upcoming corner, and the faint shadow of the walkers could be made out faintly from where they’re standing. 

“They’re coming!” Axel said a little too loudly. 

“Shhh!” Sydney snapped at him. 

There was another moment of silence as the walkers appeared around the corner until all of a sudden the five prisoners broke into a yell and went rushing towards a couple of walkers that had stumbled in front of them. 

Sydney lowered his hatchet and stared at them in disbelief, watching as they took on the walkers, prisoner style. Rick had told them to go for the head of course, but it appears that they hadn’t been listening too much. 

The three of them just stare in disappointment, until Sydney decides that what was happening was pretty pathetic, and he stepped in to finish them off with his hatchet. They hadn’t managed to finish off any of the walkers that they had encountered, so before things got ugly, he maneuvered between the prisoners and buried his hatchet into the walker's heads. “So, what part of going for the head did you guys not understand?” He asks plainly. 

He tries to ignore the way Dexter stares at him, dark eyes burning into his. 

They move farther into the prison, and he can’t help but feel more on edge than he did before. He wasn’t exactly sure how to feel about the prisoners, but Axel and Oscar seemed like they were pretty okay compared to Dexter or Andrew. Axel seemed like he was a little lost as if he didn’t know what he was doing, and Oscar just seemed like he wanted to help. Thomas, the seemingly oldest prisoner with glasses that reminded him of his grandfather, was silent and seemed to just watch what the others do. He wondered what they were all in prison for, but he didn’t think it was the time to ask. And he wasn’t sure if he would like the answer, or if the answer would be true. 

A walker came through the doorway and Daryl’s crossbow shot off, hitting it right in the center of the forehead. “See? The head. Not the stomach, not the chest, the head.” Daryl said gruffly, lowering his crossbow. 

“No more prison riot crap,” Rick told the prisoners, just as more walkers came around the corner. 

Axel was the first one to step forward, hitting the walker hard on the head with a baseball bat as it hit the ground with a thud. “Like that?” He questioned. 

“Yeah, like that,” Sydney repeated, thankful they probably got the hang of it. 

Once again, the three men (Daryl, Sydney, Rick) step back to let the prisoners take the lead and kill the walkers as they come through. It was only fair that they got some practice in. Sydney and the other two men had been doing it for longer than they had and were much more in tune with putting down walkers, while the prisoners needed more time to figure it out.

Everything seemed to be going okay until Sydney heard a shout from behind him, and he whirled around in time to see Rick put his machete through a walker's face. Oscar, who had seemingly backed away from the group, was clutching at his shoulder where blood had begun to sleep through his clothes. Oh no. 

Two gunshots rang through the air, causing Sydney’s ears to ring painfully from the noise in such close corridors. It was Dexter who had shot the gun into the head of the walker who had just attacked Oscar and barely missed Rick with the shot.

Rick made eye contact with Sydney, something he barely had to decipher before he broke it. The attention was brought to Oscar, who had in panic pulled off the top half of his jumpsuit to try and get a better look at what was happening. Rick shone the flashlight on his shoulder, where the area was filled with blood, but without a doubt, the injury had been caused by a walker. 

“Oh, fuck.” Oscar says audibly, saying exactly what everyone else was currently thinking. “I’m going to be alright, right?” He asks Rick, eyes filled with panic. 

Rick stared at him. 

“I’m sorry,” Sydney tells the prisoner. 

“You guys cut that old guy’s leg off to save his life!” Andrew interjects, standing on the other side of Oscar. 

Rick shakes his head, “Look where the bite is. No way to cut that off.” 

Andrew stared at Rick with hatred, why, Sydney isn’t too sure off because it’s not as of Rick purposefully got Oscar bit. None of them could’ve done anything about it. 

“Look, I’m fine. I promise.” Oscar tried to tell them. 

“There has to be something we can do! We could- we could just lock him up!” Andrew continued helplessly. 

“Quarantine him,” Axel added on. 

“Why are we all just standing around! We have to do something— we gotta save him.” Everyone else was silent except for Andrew who was pleading for Oscar’s life, as the group exchanged looks. 

Rick reinforced what he said before, “There’s nothing we can do.” 

The same look of hatred was in Andrew’s eyes, clearly blaming Rick for this, “You son of a bitch.” 

“Guys, stop fighting.” Oscar began, “I’m fi—“ 

He was cut off from the rest of his words, as Dexter appeared from behind him and hit him in the head with the hammer. He went down in one hit, slumping to the floor, which should have been the end of it.

Sydney watched in horror as Dexter kept going, hitting him over and over again until his head was just a pile of mush. The wall and Dexter were soaked in blood, the blood of Dexter’s supposed friend. He glanced at Daryl, who he found had also turned his head to look at him and they exchanged looks. It was clear to both of them, and of course Rick too, that this Dexter guy was unstable and was going to be causing more problems. 

Once again, they continued through the tunnels, much to Sydney’s dismay. This time, it was the prisoners in the front with Rick, Daryl, and Sydney behind them. No way are they about to put their back to them. 

“He’s dangerous,” Sydney whispers to Rick and Daryl, from in between them. “Did you see the look on his face? No remorse at all for just killing a guy he spent like ten months in a cafeteria with.” He explained. 

“Be careful, don’t let your guard down,” Rick told the both of them. 

“If he makes a move, just give me the signal.” Daryl tells Rick, which was code for ‘tell me if you want me to take him down’ and Sydney hoped it wouldn’t come to that. 

They make it into the laundromat of the prisoner, which was easily defined by the many washing and drying machines that were lined along the wall. There were no walkers in sight, but there was a distant growling from the other side of a double door at the other side of the room. 

They stop short in front of the door, and Sydney watches as Rick tosses the keys at Dexter’s feet, who still had Oscar’s blood splattered all over him. 

“I ain’t opening that.” Dexter scoffs. 

“Yes, you are.” Rick shoots back, “If you want this cell block, you’re gonna open that door. Just the one, not big of them. Because we need to control this.” 

Dexter stares at him for a moment before he scoops up the keys, and steps toward the two doors. There is a moment where he tugs on the doors and they don’t move. “You guys ready?” He asks, almost rhetorically, before he flings open the door. Doors, actually, the opposite of what Rick had told him to do. 

“I said one door!” Rick shouts at him as the walkers begin flooding through. 

Dexter glances at Rick, “Shit happens.” 

It all goes downhill from there, seven guys in a cramped space trying to take down a bunch of walkers. It’s havoc, trying to keep everything straight, and out of the corner of his eye, he sees Rick avoid a swing from Dexter’s hammer. 

This wasn’t good. 

He bumps into Dexter accidentally, and before he knows it an elbow is shoved into his stomach and he loses his balance and hits the ground. The wind knocked out of him, and he screamed as a walker nearly toppled on top of him. A hunting knife is buried to the hilt on the top of its head, and the next thing he knows is Daryl scooping him off the ground and onto his feet. He stumbles into Daryl but manages to catch himself so he doesn’t fall again. His heart is beating so fast he thought it might burst right out, and he tries to control his breathing. 

Once all the walkers are dead, nobody moves and watches as Dexter and Rick have some sort of staring contest. 

“Sorry man, hard to keep track of everyone,” Dexter says simply to Rick. 

It’s tense, you could cut the tension in the air with a knife. He has no idea what’s going to happen. 

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” Rick tilts his head at Dexter, “Shit happens.” 

Dexter nods in agreement, seemingly thinking that would be the end of it. Sydney also thought that, but only for a moment. 

It seems almost in slow motion, as Rick brings his machete down onto Dexter’s head, and Andrew leaps forward, screaming out a protest. 

Sydney is almost stunned into not moving, watching as Rick pushes Dexter’s body off of his machete and then kicks Andrew hard when he tries to come after him with a baseball bat. Dexter slumps to the ground, blood pooling on the ground, eyes still wide open. Andrew scrambles up off the ground and takes off out the freshly opened door, and Rick runs after him without a second thought. 

Which left Daryl and Sydney with Axel and Thomas, and it was clear what they were supposed to do as Daryl raised his crossbow to Thomas’ head. He shakes himself from whatever trance he was in and unclips his gun from its holster and points it at Axel, clicking the safety off. 

“Get down on your knees,” Daryl orders the both of them, who obey without a second thought. 

“Oh, man. Oh, man.” Axel sounds terrified, and Sydney can’t help but feel the same way, “We don’t have no affiliation to what just happened!” 

Sydney isn’t sure he could pull the trigger on this guy even if he had to. His hand shakes slightly and he tries to steady himself, letting out a breath. It was much easier to hold a gun to Shane’s head, a man he knew for sure to be unstable. But then again, it was clear from past experiences you can never judge somebody off just what you see. 

“Axel, stop talking.” Thomas quietly tells his friend, hands resting on top of his head, to show he means no harm. 

Christ, how the hell did they go from five of these prisoners to just two? What a shit show. 

Rick had returned shortly after, but there was no Andrew. Sydney has no idea if Rick had just chased him out of the prison, if the walkers had got to him, or if Rick had just straight up killed him. He’s already seen Rick kill more men than he would have ever wished to, his thoughts drifting to Tony and Dave from the bar for just a moment before he pushes it away. Not the time at all. 

He doesn’t usually see Rick so angry, but he could just tell that the other was fed up with what had gone down, and he’s sure that Rick could put a bullet in both their brains right now and not think twice about it. 

“Sir, sir! Please, we had nothing to do with this. You have to believe us!” Axel was on the verge of actually crying it seemed and Sydney couldn’t help but feel bad for him. Damn, him and his emotions. 

The former cop’s gun was pointed directly at Thomas’s head, but the older man didn’t seem too phased by it, staring at Axel who was across from him. “You had nothing to do with it? Sure. Daryl, Sydney, let's end this now.” Rick ordered. 

His hand shook more.

“Oh, god.” Axel mumbled out, “Please … you saw what he did to Oscar. Oscar was my friend … we ain’t like that. I like my pharmaceuticals, but I’m no killer. Thomas is in here for tax fraud for god sake! And he’s not even that good at it! I swear on my life we ain’t the violent kind!”

Rick turned from Axel to Thomas again, staring down at the man who had been silent this entire time. “And what about you?” He asked as he probably expected the other man to beg for his life.

Thomas met the eyes of the other, no fear present in his eyes, “I have never pleaded for my life, and I’m not about to start now … so you do what you gotta do.”

Sydney didn’t even realize he was holding his breath until his lungs started to burn, his eyes staring holes into the back of Rick’s head, and prayed that he wouldn’t pull the trigger. 

Thankfully, his prayers were heard as Rick lowered the gun slightly, and Sydney could breathe again. “Get up,” Sydney clicked the safety back on his gun and tucked it away, pulling Axel off the ground and trying to ignore the tight feeling in his chest. 

Rick stared at the two prisoners for a couple more seconds, the longest seconds of Sydney’s life before he turned on his heel, “Let’s go.”

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, they managed to get to the cellblock that was now only for two prisoners. He felt kind of bad, it was only the two of them and they were going to be left in here to their own devices. There were bodies laid face down on the ground outside what used to be their cells, a bullet hole in each of their heads. 

“I knew these guys,” Axel said solemnly, “These were good men.”

Ironic, seeing as they were in prison, but Sydney didn’t say anything. 

“We’re locking down this cell block, this part of the prison is now yours. Take it or leave it, that's the deal.” Rick told them before he turned away from, exiting the cell.

“Sorry about your friends,” Daryl said somewhat sincerely to the two prisoners before he left too.

Sydney paused once Daryl and Rick were gone, “Just take those bodies outside and burn them, and don’t try anything stupid. Rick won’t think twice about killing you.” Then he left. 

By the time he was finally back in his cell block with the rest of the group, he couldn’t be more grateful. Except he was immediately cornered by Sophia as he shut the cell door behind him, and the little girl had a guilty look on her face, “Don’t be mad.”

Sydney raised an eyebrow at her and wondered what she possibly could have done to make him mad, and just waited for her to continue.

All in one breath, “Hershel wasn’t doing too well so Carl and I left to go to the infirmary to get more medical supplies but we only had to kill two walkers and it was totally fine but then Mrs. Grimes, uh, I mean, Lori was pretty upset at Carl so I just wanted to tell you before she said anything to you!”

Sydney blinked and stepped forward, placing a hand on Sophia’s shoulder, “Hey, it’s fine okay?” He reassured her. Honestly, he was more touched that she even thought that he would get after her like he was some parental guardian of hers. He took a glance up on the top floor where Carol’s cell was, and could faintly see the outline of someone laying on the bed. “I just wished you would’ve waited until I came back and you told me before you went, or told somebody. I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you.” He told her seriously and for good measure, ruffled her hair. 

Sophia swatted at his hand and scrunched her nose up, stepping away from him, “Hey! Stop!” She said with no real bite to her tone. 

“Fine, fine.” He stopped with a small chuckle, “How is Hershel doing now then?”

“I think he stopped breathing at one point, but Lori managed to save him! I think he’s even awake now.” Sophia glanced back at the cell the old man was in, “How is he going to get around with one leg?” 

Good question. “Well, hopefully, they’ll be able to find some crutches and he won’t have to go very far because we got this prison now. No more on the road.” He said, “Probably even some around here, but we don’t need them right now.” 

“Maybe Carl and I can go looking for them later!” She said almost excitedly, and he wished for just a second that she was the same scared little girl she had been at the farm. But no, he shouldn’t wish that, because she needs to be able to look after herself. Sophia was only a little girl, and Carl was only a little boy, but they are being forced to grow up faster than any of them ever had to do and it would be wrong to discourage them from learning how to survive in this new world. 

“Maybe, but not right now okay? And always make sure you tell somebody before you go anywhere and if it’s not safe maybe get more people to help you.” Sydney told her sternly. 

“Okay!” Sophia agreed easily. 

Sydney smiled, “I’m going to go lay down okay? Just come wake me if you need anything, I’ve had a long day.” He laughed lightly, not wanting to let on to Sophia about all the shit he’s had to witness in the last two hours. 

Sophia just nods and he takes that as his cue to leave, managing to drag himself up the stairs and towards his cell. He unclipped his holster belt as he reached his cell, pausing as he noticed Jimmy and Randall sitting on the bottom bunk and whispering to themselves. 

“Okay, well Beth said-”

“Beth said what?” Sydney cut in, enjoying the way that both of the teenage boys almost jumped out of their skin at the sight of him. He dropped his weapons near his bag that was in the corner of the room, before turning on Jimmy and Randall and staring at them, waiting for an answer. 

“Uh... “ Randall seemed stumped for words.

Jimmy stood up abruptly, and yanked Randall up after him, and shoved his cane in his hand. “Beth said she needs help with food because we are very hungry. Bye.” He says, not very suspiciously at all and Sydney watches them walk away as fast as they possibly could with Randall’s limp.

What the hell was that?

Right now he is too tired to care, so he just climbs up the ladder and face plants onto the bed. When he has time to just and think, maybe then he will confront Randall about what has been going on lately. Maybe. 

Just before he fell asleep, he prayed nothing happened while he was asleep and that he wouldn’t be rudely awakened. 

It was dark, the only light being from the moonlight shining down onto the clearing of the forest. The sky seemed to have almost a red tint to it, and for just a second, he had no idea where he was. Was he dead? Was this one of those dreams he had before he came back to life? Sydney realized he was holding his gun out in front of him, the safety clicked off and pointed at two figures in front of him. He squinted to try and see their faces, and despite the blurriness in front of him, he could tell who it was. 

“Let him go!” He yelled at the man who was supposed to be dead, the man who had previously killed him, watching as his hands were wrapped around Randall’s neck. 

“I ain’t about to let some twink with a god complex take me down.” Shane sneered back at him, a darkness in his eyes he hadn’t seemed to notice before. They seemed almost black. 

Before he had a chance to even react, Shane had twisted his hands on Randall’s head and an unsettling crack pierced through the air. The teenager’s body slumped to the ground and Sydney let out a yell, “No! Randall!” 

He pulled the trigger without a second thought … but the gun didn’t fire. 

Shane laughed, and it chilled him to the bone, the world beginning to spin around him and he felt himself lose his balance. The gun fell from his hand and hit the ground beside him, seemingly being absorbed into the ground. 

His back hit the ground, and all of a sudden there was a person on top of him, hands around his neck. It felt the same, and it felt as if he was back all those months ago when he knew that he was going to die. He clawed at the hands above him as he choked on the lack of air, kicking his feet to no avail. Black spots began forming in his vision, and all he could see was the smiling face of Shane Walsh.

“Oh fuck! Oh, fuck.” Sydney gasped as he shot up in his prison bed, not even realizing he had been holding his neck, heart beating faster than normal. He was drenched in sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead, and he tried to control his breathing. The prison was dark, and he isn’t sure how long he had been asleep but he can tell it’s the middle of the night just by the silence of the cellblock and the moonlight shining through the big barred windows. 

He almost fell off the bunk, feet hitting the ground a little harder than necessary, and he turned to stare at the bottom bunk where he thankfully saw Randall laying. He could make out the faint shape of him, and he felt his heart calm at the sight of him. Sydney stared a little longer than necessary until he realized how creepy he was being, and he turned on his heel and stepped out of the cell.

His throat felt raw, and he shuddered at the way he could still feel the way that Shane’s hands had felt around his neck. Across from his cell was the perch, and he could see that Daryl was still awake as well, sitting upon his sleeping bag and the lantern on its lowest setting. It was just like the previous night.

“Daryl?” He called out to the redneck, voice low as to not wake anybody else. 

The other looked up, almost in surprise, but he bet the other was just happy that he wasn’t Carol. “What? What’s goin’ on?” Daryl questioned. 

He realized he didn’t have a reason to be out here, talking to Daryl, and saying he had a nightmare sounds a bit childish. “You got any water?” He shuffled towards him, without even thinking just plopping down in front of him and crossing his legs. The other didn’t seem to mind last time, and he didn’t seem very tired at the moment. 

Daryl grunted in response and turned towards his bag, rustling around before he produced a water bottle and tossed it at Sydney. 

“Thanks.” He caught it and unscrewed the cap, allowing himself to take a drink and trying not to chug it. 

The redneck seemed to squint in the darkness before Sydney was blinded by a flashlight that Daryl shone on him. “What the hell?” Sydney asked him, covering his eyes momentarily. 

“The fuck you do to your neck?” Daryl pulled the flashlight away once he got a good look, which prompted Sydney to place a hand on his neck even though he could not see the injury himself.

Well, that is embarrassing. “Oh, I think I may have been … choking myself in my sleep.” He said awkwardly. “Which, I swear I have a reasonable explanation for. I had a nightmare.” Sydney added on after he realized this story was weird enough as is. Daryl just looks at him, and doesn’t even ask what the nightmare was about, but yet he feels compelled to share. “It was Shane, it usually is. He kills Randall, then comes after me. It just feels so real… I can still feel what his hands felt like around my neck. How it felt when he broke my nose, or when I sliced my hand on my hatchet trying to get him off of me.” The brunette glances down at the scar on his palm, jagged and uneven from not being able to heal properly. 

Daryl is silent for a moment. “You saved that boy’s life. The only other person who tried as hard as you, is dead.” It takes a moment to realize that Daryl is talking about Dale, and Sydney has the sudden realization that the two people who fought for Randall have technically died. It was pretty ironic. “Can’t say I wanted him around in the first place, but he’s a good kid. And he’s alive because of you. Just try thinkin’ of that every time you got a nightmare.” Somehow, that makes him feel better. 

“Damn, didn’t realize you had such wise wisdom Dixon.” Sydney chuckles lightly. 

Daryl just shrugged, “Don’t even gotta try.” 

Sydney glanced back at the open cell door, where he was expected to sleep, where Randall was. He guessed the eerie prison doesn’t help how much comfort he gets at night, especially inside a prison cell.

“Why dont ya’ just take your mattress and blankets out here? Might feel a bit better than inside a cramped cell,” Daryl told him, “There a damn good reason I don’t sleep in no cell.” 

Sydney couldn’t help but be surprised by the request, not thinking that the redneck would be up to sharing any of his space with him. He still remembered how cold and distant Daryl had been back at the farm when he first arrived after he was laid up in bed after Andrea shot him. Even though Daryl was there way long before him, it seemed they both seemed to settle into the group at the same time. 

He realized that he had been silent for too long and he jerkily nods his head, “Oh yeah, yeah. I’ll do that if you’re offering me to infringe on your space.” Sydney managed to get to his feet, screwing the cap back on the water and placing it next to him. He returned to his cell, where Randall was still fast asleep. He felt a little bad just leaving him there, but if Randall woke up before anyone else, it wouldn’t take too long to realize where Sydney was. 

Quietly, he folded his mattress and blankets up in one, almost falling off the ladder at one point but managing to catch himself. The last thing he needed to do was fall and crack his head, and wake Randall up with that.

It was only a moment later he returned to Daryl, laying his mattress out in front of the other’s sleeping bag so they were almost in a line. “Two nightmares in one night is uncommon right?” Sydney asked despite making up that fact on the spot. 

Daryl just looks at him as Sydney makes himself comfortable and he figures that's an answer in itself. He let out a soft breath as he stared up at the prison ceiling, the light from the lantern fading softly as he suspected Daryl to be turning it off. 

He contemplates what to say, and just as he shuts his eyes he manages to mutter, “Thank’s Daryl, goodnight.” 

He isn’t even awake to hear the response if there was one. 

Chapter Text

Thankfully, he doesn’t wake up anymore that night and he manages to completely sleep in until the sun begins to peek through the windows of the prison. Daryl is gone by the time he wakes up, which honestly doesn’t surprise him because he had guessed that he was the type of guy who was up the moment the sun began to rise. He thinks about moving his mattress back into the room, but he figured he’d just leave it there for now and if Randall wants him to put it back he will.

When he goes into his cell (room), Randall is also already gone, so Sydney just grabs his holster belt and clips it on. He feels very gross, especially from his sweating experience last night— which also made him remember what he had done to his neck, and he just prayed that the marks or whatever Daryl had seen faded between when he went to sleep and now. 

His stomach growls as he makes his way down the set of stairs, and he catches Beth at one of the tables ahead of him, the table scattered with bowls. “Hey, Beth. How’s Hershel?” Sydney asked immediately. 

Beth looked up at him and smiled, “He’s doing good actually, he’s sleepin’ now but Lori just thinks his body is taking time to adjust to what happened.” She looks back at the table and picks up a plastic bowl, holding that and a spoon out to him. He realizes that there was actual food in the bowl, some sort of packaged oatmeal that they found that was somehow still good. It looked almost like prison food, grey and mushy, but he didn’t care. His stomach growled just at the thought of food.

“Thanks.” He gratefully said as he took a seat, digging into the oatmeal. “Where is everyone at?” Sydney asked after he realized how empty the cellblock looked. 

“Glenn and Maggie are in with Dad, Jimmy is somehow still sleeping, but I think the rest of them are outside enjoying the fresh air. Been a while since we been able to do that.” Beth stacked the empty bowls on top of one another, probably getting ready to clean them. 

“I think Jimmy could sleep through an earthquake, Beth. You shouldn’t be surprised.” Sydney informed her, thinking about how many times they had to shake Jimmy awake when they were trying to move and he still wasn’t awake. To be a heavy sleeper in the apocalypse, definitely not something you want. 

He placed his bowl down when he finished, which didn’t take him long because he was hungry, and looked at Beth, “I’ll head out then too, see what everyone is up to.”

Beth just smiled at him in response.

The sunlight felt beautiful on his skin, actually enjoying it now more than before when he was forced to be outside from dawn to dusk when they were living on the road. The courtyard and the fields were still filled with dead walkers, which was uneasy to look at, but he figured as soon as they were settled in they would get to clean up those.

 Across the way, he could see Carol and Lori talking to each other and it seemed as if they were having a serious conversation but just what he could tell. The shorter-haired woman was holding onto one of Lori’s hands and making wild gestures with her hand as Lori stared at her with some sort of emotion that Sydney could not decipher from this far away.

Rick was once again walking the perimeter of the fence, while the other remaining three (Sophia, Carl, and Randall) were just sitting in the grass where there weren't any walker bodies. 

“Hey, what you doin’?”

Just as he was wondering where Daryl was, the redneck walked up next to him from the courtyard and squinted in the sun.

“Finished some delicious oatmeal and now I’m just standing here.” Sydney shielded his eyes from the sun, tilting his head towards Daryl.

“Gonna go for a little drive, just tryna scout out more of the area. Not too much, but wouldn't hurt. Wanna come?” He was surprised that Daryl was asking him, but then again there wasn’t anyone else to ask. He could ask Rick, but moving to somewhere new probably wouldn’t be the best idea for the leader to leave. Maggie and Glenn would usually do something like this with Sydney or just themselves, but Maggie was looking after her dad and Glenn doesn’t want to leave her side. 

Sydney doesn’t have much to think about, “Sure, yeah. I don’t got anything else to do, when?”

“Now.” 

Okay, yeah, should’ve expected that one. “Please don’t tell me we’re taking your bike.” He practically pleads.

Daryl stares at him, and Sydney can just see that he’s fighting off a smirk. Damn.

Yeah, still not used to the motorcycle. He thinks he probably grips onto Daryl a little too hard, scared for some reason that he’s going to fall off even though it likely wouldn’t happen, but Daryl never says anything about it. 

They don’t drive for very long until they come to the outskirts of a small town, which looks pretty uninhabited and that people haven’t been there in months. They hadn’t planned to stop anywhere, but Sydney still pats Daryl on the shoulder to indicate for him to pull over. He didn’t feel like screaming in his ear.

The motorcycle is stopped to a halt on the side of the road, and Daryl shuts the engine off. “What we stoppin’ here for?” The redneck lets his eyes wander over the streets that were even void of walkers.

“Figured we could check a couple of houses, won’t kill us.” The saying was pretty ironic now, seeing as if they weren’t safe checking a couple of houses actually could kill them. Sydney steps off the bike and tugs Daryl’s crossbow off his back where he had been holding it for the other man, handing it off to him as soon as he had also stepped off the bike. 

It’s a two-story house from the looks of it, a baby blue color with a nice big front yard and a white picket fence. He can see where there used to be a mailbox, but it had been uprooted from the ground and taken somewhere else. The windows weren’t boarded or anything, so he has a feeling that whoever lived in this house died at the beginning of the apocalypse. 

“I call upstairs," Sydney said before they had even reached the door, perhaps being a little too excited to dig through people’s stuff who were most likely dead. He could practically hear Daryl roll his eyes. They stopped at the door, and he started knocking loudly on the door, continuously for about five seconds before stopping. It was a good strategy, he knew that it wasn’t exactly foolproof cause the walker might not get there in time or maybe be too far away or stuck, but it was a good indicator before you went in. 

Daryl made a point of walking in first, crossbow held up high, “Don’t go gettin’ jumped up there, don’t wanna have to be runnin’ up after ya’ to save your life.” 

It was Sydney’s time to roll his eyes, “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. If anything, I’ll be the one saving you.” His mind flashes to when Daryl and Glenn found him in the forest, and Daryl had to carry him back to the farmhouse. 

They separate ways and Sydney makes his way up the stairs, which are covered in a minty-colored green (in his opinion, was ugly) and passing by family portraits that were hung up on the wall. There were four rooms upstairs just from what he could tell as he made it to the top, two of the doors closed. He enters the first one on his left, a room with a single bed and a plain-looking room. If he had to guess, it had been used as a spare room. He opens bedside drawers, digging around but finding nothing, then opening the closet and digging around. It seemed like mostly junk, boxes of Tupperware, kitchen utensils, crafts, etc. All things that were most definitely not necessary now. 

All that he produces is a drawstring bag, that has some sort of design on it that he’s never seen before. He hadn’t brought a bag with him, not wanting to be weighed down by it, but he figured carrying this around would be pretty useful if he found anything. As he leaves, he shuts the door behind him and moves on to the next. 

Not surprisingly, it’s the bathroom. He opens the drawer under the sink and manages to find a couple of unopened toothbrushes, floss, and toothpaste. It wasn’t a priority anymore, but someone back at the prison will have their day made because he brought it back. Next to the toilet in some sort of holder was a couple of rolls of toilet paper, which he happily stuffs into the bag as well. Could never have too many of those. Nothing useful in the medical cabinet, because there usually isn't. Sydney stares at the sink taps for a second, before he turns one of the knobs and still finds himself disappointed when no water comes out. Couldn’t hurt to try. 

He can hear the brief clatter from downstairs which he knows to be Daryl, the guy is so quiet when he is hunting yet he can be so loud when scavenging. He closes the bathroom door behind him and moves on to the next room across the hall, where the door is shut. He pulls out his hatchet at this moment, just to be sure, and opens the door slowly. It appeared to be the master bedroom, bigger than the other one and with a huge bed against the wall with two bedside tables, a closet, two dressers, and all those good things.

There are different sorts of paintings hung along the wall, something you would pick up at the mall, things that don’t even have meaning. There isn’t anything useful until he is once again digging around in the closet. All the good things seem to be found in closets. Behind all the hanging clothes and junk, was a metal baseball bat. He tucks away his hatchet again and pulls it out, feeling the weight of it. Sydney likes his hatchet, but he never said he wouldn’t try something new once in a while. It just seemed to be that he only liked to try the weapons that were less than convenient for him, a hatchet or a baseball bat when you could use a hunting knife.

He swung it a little, testing the weight of it before he held it down by his side. Couldn’t exactly test it out until he saw a walker.

Not wanting to take too long he quickly moved on from that room, shutting the door behind him and leaving it as he left it. The brunette came to the final door, turning the knob and pushing it open slowly.

He tried to not feel sick at what he saw.

In its true nature, it wasn’t bad, but due to the circumstances, it did not make him feel good at all. The room was painted a pastel pink color with rainbows and unicorns hand-painted on the wall, a cute little pink and white crib settled at the far end of the room. There was a rocking chair in the other corner, a play mat and a tiny little desk, and a dresser.

Sydney stands still for a couple of minutes, a little too long, wondering what happened to the poor baby that used to own this room. Or was the baby even born?

He pushes away the sick feeling in his stomach and steps farther into the room, moving towards this pink dresser against the wall. It was a lot of pinks. He stares at the knobs on the dresser. Then, he opens the top drawer to reveal all these cute little onesies folded nicely inside. It’s weirdly emotional.

Sydney immediately thinks of Lori, who is ready to pop any day now, and still, they don’t have anything for the baby. At least he could tell them where they could find a crib if they planned on getting one. He pulls out the top onesie, a pastel yellow and written in orange writing on the front, ‘My Little Sunshine.’

Maybe he feels bad, or maybe he convinces himself they should get some use anyways as he shoves the onesie into his bag. He digs through the rest of them, throwing them into his bag and moving onto the next drawer. He finds socks, hats, pants, shirts, and even a couple of diapers that had been left behind. There wasn’t any baby food that he could see, but if there was any then Daryl would have grabbed it downstairs.

Not liking the vibes from this nursery, he grabs the clothes that he wants and then throws the bag back on his back, and then leaves, closing the door behind him. 

“Daryl is it insensitive to…” He trails off as he walks down the stairs, not seeing Daryl anywhere in sight. He turns to move through one of the other doorways, but he doesn’t make it very far before someone grabs him by the waist and pulls him down, a hand over his mouth.

He fails pretty pathetically before he hears the whisper of, “It’s me.” He stops struggling, now crouched on the floor and realizing that it was Daryl who had pulled him down. “The hell you doing?” Sydney whispers to the other.

“Some men were outside, they walked past. No way they didn’t see my bike but they didn’t even take a second glance at the house.” Daryl explains, voice low, and also removing his arm from Sydney when he realized it was still there. 

Sydney glanced towards the front door, “What should we do? Stay and see if they walk by again or make a run for the bike?” He questions quietly. 

Daryl seems to ponder this for a moment, “We can wait a bit. Won’t hurt.” He decides, jerking his head towards the kitchen, “Let’s go hunker down there. Farthest from the front door.” 

That’s how the two of them ended up sitting side by side against the kitchen cabinets, legs stretched out in front of them. 

“Where’d ya’ get the baseball bat?” Daryl questions at the weapon that he laid down next to him, “Seem pretty attached to that hatchet of yours.” His voice was still low, quiet enough that anyone from the outside wouldn’t hear them unless they were pressed against the kitchen windows.

Sydney glances at the metal weapon and shrugs, “It was in one of the closets upstairs. Figured I could try it.”

“You tryna make things difficult for yourself?”

“Okay, says the guy using a crossbow. So quirky.” He shoots back, but no bite to his tone, “You don’t get to judge my choice of weapon.”

Daryl’s crossbow was laid at his side, loaded and ready to go, “It’s a talent, somethin’ not many people possess.”

“I could easily learn, you showed me how to shoot. Just don’t exactly find those things lying around now do you.” He doubts that he would have such grace or accuracy that Daryl ever had, but that doesn’t mean he can’t pretend. He’s seen Daryl shoot it one-handed and still get the walker, and reload in the blink of an eye, it truly was a talent and probably took years of practice. That made him think. “What did you even do before this? Hunter?” Sydney guessed, even though that wasn’t exactly … a job. 

Sydney can practically see Daryl debating if he wants to answer or not, silent and staring ahead at the wall in front of him. “Nothin’ much. Followed Merle’s sorry ass around when he wasn’t in jail, then tryna’ keep him out when he wasn’t in.” Daryl finally settled on, not an answer if the other had a job or not ever.

“He older than you?” Sydney doesn’t remember Daryl ever talking this much at all, or giving up this much information so he figures he could maybe push it.

Another pause. “Yeah, by about twelve years.” Wow, that was not something he had expected. A twelve-year age difference between siblings? He knew that it was more common than not, but he just wasn’t used to it because he never had any siblings in the first place. 

“Do you care me asking how old you are?” Sydney pushes, but he can’t see why somebody like Daryl would be protective over their age.

Daryl side-eyes him, “How old do you think I am?”

“... That is not fair at all. You gonna get offended when I guess the wrong age?”

“Nope.” 

That may be a lie, but he decides to try and take a guess at it anyways. He looks Daryl up and down, but he realizes that looking at his appearance isn’t that much of an indicator seeing as they were in the apocalypse and everyone appeared older than they were. He thinks of Rick, who he guessed was in his early to mid-thirties, maybe thirty-four or thirty-five. Sydney would say that Daryl and Rick were around the same age, he doesn’t know why, that’s just how he feels. Maybe Daryl was a couple of years younger, or would he be a couple of years older? Sydney was twenty-nine when the apocalypse started, and he knows for a fact that Daryl has got to be older than him.

“Don’t got all day.” Daryl snarks after Sydney was quiet for a minute.

Sydney rolls his eyes, “Fine. I’ll say… Thirty-two.” 

Daryl scoffs at the answer, but he can’t tell if that's a good thing or not. Then, he doesn’t say anything after that.

“Oh, c’mon. You have to tell me now. I won’t tell anybody Daryl Dixon’s real age, it’ll be a secret between me and you.” Sydney says jokingly. 

Maybe Daryl was debating telling him, or he just wanted to make Sydney wait it out a little. “Thirty-four. And how old are you, twenty-five?” Sydney can’t tell if that’s a joke or not. 

Thirty-four. He was only off by about two years, so he thinks his guessing skills are pretty good. That would put Merle at about forty-six, and he honestly wished he had met the guy just to put a face to the name. But then again, after what he heard, maybe he didn’t want to meet him. He had an itching feeling that the guy wouldn’t have liked him. “That’s funny.” He laughed, quietly of course, at Daryl’s guess. “I’m almost thirty, actually. Or I am thirty. Damn, I miss calendars.” It was nice having one at the farmhouse, but since then they had completely lost track of what the month or the day was, all they could do was guess based on the weather and even then it wasn’t very accurate. 

“Thought you were closer to Maggie and Glenn than that,” Daryl revealed, which made Sydney realize he did seem like he would be around the same age as them. Except, he thinks he is at least five years older than Glenn and even more than that for Maggie if he guessed right. 

Sydney shrugs, “I got a babyface I guess, and can’t grow a lot of facial hair. People always think I’m younger.” 

They sit in silence for a couple of minutes, but surprisingly it isn’t too awkward, something that usually happens when Sydney is left in silence. But he guessed it is probably because he knows how Daryl doesn’t talk very much and the silence isn’t meant as an insult. “You think your brother is still out there?” Sydney asks quietly, hoping to not strike a nerve by doing so. He thinks of the story that he got from the group, of how Merle had been out of hand (an unintended pun) and had been handcuffed to the roof and T-Dog had dropped the key forcing him to be left behind. How they went back for him but he had already cut himself loose and escaped, but they never found any trace of him except a lit burner and some blood. 

“Merle is one tough son of a bitch, crazy enough to cut his hand off cause he’s a little too impatient to wait for us.” Daryl grumbled, “Don’t make him invincible though.”

He can’t tell if Daryl has either accepted the fact his brother is most likely dead, or he’s still holding onto the hope that his brother was still out there. “Guess you never know. Could run into him someday, worlds not so big anymore.” Maybe the chances were unlikely, but some hope never killed anybody. After all, Rick had woken up from his coma pretty late and just so happened to get to the exact camp that his wife and son were at. “I’d like to meet him.” He added, after another thought.

Daryl turns his head and looks at Sydney, up and down, “I doubt he’d like you very much, he’s a grade-A asshole.” 

Sydney raises an eyebrow, “Why is that?”

Daryl seems to debate if Sydney wants the real answer or not before he speaks, “Probably call you a twig he could snap in a second then some slurs.” 

Well, he can’t say he’s too surprised. “Little does he know, this twig has a lot of fight in him.” He somehow doubts he’ll ever meet Daryl’s brother. 

Daryl snorts, “Yeah, I could’ve guessed that when you managed to put up a fight against a psycho cop who was double the size of you.” 

He thinks of his crooked nose and the slice on his palm, holding his hand up and staring at the jagged scar that ran across his dominant hand. “Yeah, I don’t tend to do that too often. Hopefully not doing it anytime soon again.” Sydney sighs as he knows it's a hopeless wish in an apocalyptic world where people had turned on each other. 

Daryl takes that as the end of the conversation, shifting and moving into a crouching position before he stands up, peeking outside the kitchen window. “We can probably get moving now, I doubt they’re still around.” He decides.

Sydney realizes they had just been sitting there and talking for a while, and that they probably could have even left earlier, and that the rest of the group was probably wondering when they were going to be getting back. “Oh yeah, true.” He agrees, scooping his bag and his baseball bat up, and standing up. He realized he’d have to ride on the bike with the baseball bat, Daryl’s crossbow, and the bag on the way back to the prison, which is why next time he’s forcing Daryl to take one of the vehicles because it is way more practical.

Are he and Daryl friends? Have they reached that status yet? They must have, seeing as the other man had shared his perch with him and let him sleep thereafter he had a nightmare. Even talked about his brother, revealed his age to him, asked him to come on this run in the first place. 

They were friends.

When they finally returned to the prison, Rick admitted to them that he was a little worried about how long they had been gone just for the fact they were only supposed to go scouting. Daryl informs Rick of the men that they heard, but that they didn’t seem too interested in trying to find whoever was around and just kept moving. Plus, who the hell would expect a group to break into a prison and clear all those walkers just at a chance to see if it was a safe place to stay?

Rick is walking with the both of them back up the path to the prison, and he pulls the drawstring bag off his back. He hands it over to Rick, “Here. Give this to Lori, she might like it.”

He seems slightly confused, but the older man pulls open the drawstring bag and peers inside. He pulls it closed once he’s seen what it is, and he glances at Sydney and nods, “Thanks.”

Anyone with eyes had noticed how distant Rick had been from his wife, most likely because of the Shane thing, but he still cared about her. Rick was the type of guy who didn’t seem to care that the baby might not be his, and even if he wasn’t the biggest fan of his wife right now, he still cared for her and wanted the baby to be healthy.

That was why Rick was a good guy and a good leader. He wouldn’t have asked for anyone better, and he sure as hell wouldn’t have stuck around if it was Shane.

Once inside the prison, he’s greeted by a couple of people and he peeks into Hershel’s cell where the older man is still fast asleep and Maggie by his side. “How’s he doing?” He asks the brunette who is grasping onto her father’s hand, leaning against the edge of the bed. 

“He’s alive, and that's all I’m worryin’ about right now,” Maggie says with a defeated sigh, looking down at the man’s legs where one of his feet was missing. It was going to be hard. 

“Fair enough.” Sydney replies, “We’ll have to go looking for some crutches soon, and I’m sure he’s a fast learner.” An amputation of something so drastic at such an old age, especially with their current situation.

“I think Carl mentioned there might be some in the infirmary that the patients used.” Maggie sounded almost exhausted, probably not sleeping well because she was so concerned for her dad, “Could you ask Glenn to come in here when you get a chance?”

Sydney nods at her before he turns around, making his way out of the cell and looking around for Glenn. He was pretty easy to find, spotting him leaning against one of the walls and talking to Rick. He walks over far enough that he doesn’t have to shout, “Glenn, Maggie was asking for you.” 

The other immediately stands up straight, seeming pretty eager to make it back to his girlfriend. “Thanks, Syd,” Glenn says as he passes by in a flash and reminding Sydney of how much he cared for her in the first place. It was nice to see them so happy in such a shitty world. 

Wait a second, did Glenn just call him Syd? Is that a thing now?

A little while later he’s sitting at one of the tables with Sophia, having a pretty serious conversation about which animal was the best to have as a pet. Sydney said he loves cats, but then Sophia insists that bunnies are the way to go and nothing else. 

As he said, pretty serious.

He doesn’t notice Lori until she has stopped in front of the table, in between him and Sophia, holding one of the onesies that he had picked up at the house. “Sydney, I just wanted to thank you for getting these. It was…” She looks like she is about to cry, and he can’t tell if she is just really touched or it’s the pregnancy hormones. “It was nice of you, many people wouldn’t even think to pick those up.” She looks down at the onesie, her finger running over the soft fabric.

“It’s no problem, I just wanted to make sure the little one has some epic clothes when she or he is finally born. And I volunteer to go on a run to get other stuff, too.” He smiles at her, knowing how much work a baby is going to be, especially in an apocalypse, but she does have a lot of people who are going to help.

Her smile is genuine, along with her teary eyes, “I know I wasn’t that big of a fan of you joining the group back at the farm, but I know now that we are glad to have you.” 

Wow, very touching. And that wasn’t sarcasm either, he did appreciate it. “Thanks. Me and Sophia are both betting on the little one being a girl, but I think she is just saying that cause she doesn’t want another boy in the group.” He glances at the little girl on the table, who lit up at being mentioned.

“What! No! That is definitely not why… I just have a good feeling.” Sophia says sheepishly, pushing her hair out of her face.

Lori just laughs at the both of them, “I’m also praying for a girl, I already raised one boy and he’s a lot of trouble.” Thank god Carl wasn’t around to hear that one. 

“Well, given the circumstances, I think Carl turned out pretty great.” Despite thinking he was a little shit sometimes, the kid was pretty accustomed to the world around him and knew how to take care of himself. “So, I think we’ll be okay with this one.” Sydney glances at Lori’s stomach, trying not to think about all the cons that come with this baby. Think positive. 

Lori rests a hand on Sydney’s shoulder, “Thanks so much. It means a lot.” Her touch is there for a moment before she pulls away, and turns to leave, and wanders off back to wherever she had been before.

That had not been something he hadn’t been expecting, but it made him feel all tingly inside anyways. He was excited for the baby now, after having looked at all those clothes back at the house. God, he wasn’t even a girl and he felt like he was getting baby fever. 

“Me and Carl were talking about baby names,” Sophia excitedly said, tapping her fingers on the metal table.

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Sydney could only imagine what kind of names those two were thinking. 

“Okay, well, we were thinking…” 

Chapter Text

The group seemed to take a couple of days off, to just relax in the prison before they started doing anything drastic. Everyone knew that there were lots to do, nobody was refuting that, but it was nice to just stop for a couple of days. They had been on the road so long that they had never gotten time to do that, so they had to take advantage of it while they could. 

Sydney had left his mattress on the perch near Daryl’s, and the other man never said anything about him leaving it there, but he had made sure to check with Randall to make sure it was okay. The other had just smiled and said he would force Jimmy to move his stuff into the cell, and if Sydney ever changed his mind he would kick the teenager out again. 

Hershel was almost back up on his feet, or foot as he should say, and he seemed to be back to normal. Or well, as normal as you could be after getting your foot amputated with a hatchet and nothing to control the pain. Sydney had to give it to him, he honestly didn't think he would be able to do it. But everyone knew that even for his age, Hershel was a strong man who didn’t exactly give up easily. 

The first order of business was moving the vehicles into the yard, instead of outside the prison, making them look a little less noticeable than before. Helping out was himself, Rick, Daryl, and Jimmy. 

After it was all said in done, they had the three vehicles parked inside the yard. “We’ll park ‘em in the west entry of the yard,” Rick tells the other three men, as Jimmy steps out of Hyundai and pockets the keys. He isn’t even sure Jimmy would even have his license, but he doesn’t seem to be that bad of a driver.

“Good. Our vehicles camped out there looked like a giant “vacancy” sign.” Daryl grumbles. 

“We should probably start loading up the corpses as well, burn them. We can use the truck no problem.” Sydney points out, glancing around at the corpses that littered the area.

“Yeah, and make sure they’re dead before you start hauling them up. We’re not taking any chances.” Rick affirms, “Takes only a second for something to go wrong.” His thoughts lead to Hershel, a simple accident leading to a loss of a limb.

Jimmy groans from next to Sydney, “Why do I feel like this is gonna be a long day?” That was putting it lightly. 

“Also, where are Glenn and Maggie? I figured they would be out helping us.” He asks, having not remembered seeing them inside the prison before they came out. 

“Up in the guard tower,” Daryl says casually.

“What? Still?” Sydney glances up at the guard tower, having figured that the two would have come in for the night. 

Daryl just shrugs before he cups his hands over his mouth and shouts, “Glenn! Maggie!”

From down below, he can see some movement in the windows of the guard tower before the door pops open and Glenn steps out. He has no shirt on and he’s in the middle of buttoning his jeans, a seemingly guilty look on his face. “Uh.. hey! What’s up, guys?” He asks, trying to sound too non-suspicious. 

Rick, Daryl, Sydney, and Jimmy all burst out laughing at the sight of him. 

“You comin’?” Daryl shouts back up.

“What?”

Sydney laughs so hard he can barely breathe, resting his hands on his knees. It was such a good vibe, despite living in a prison. He knew this was a good group just because of that.

“You comin’? Come on, we could use a hand!” Daryl repeats the first half of his sentence, staring up at the guard tower with a knowing smirk on his face. 

Glenn glances back into the guard tower where Maggie is, before he looks back, “Yeah, we’ll be right down!”

Sydney just shakes his head, “Young love.” He makes himself sound like he is way older than he is, just by that comment.

They turn around to head back towards the vehicles, but Sydney notices two figures in the distance. He squints, unsure of who it is at first before he realizes it’s the two prisoners. They hadn’t seen any sight of them since they gave them their cellblock, so it was odd they were here now. “Wait, guys.” He catches the others' attention, waiting until they have turned around before he points at the prisoners in the distance. 

Rick’s smile from before immediately fades at the sight of them, and he senses that the good vibe has gone completely down the drain. “Let’s go.” He tells them, moving to walk towards the prisoners. “I thought we had an agreement.” Rick simply tells them as they’re close enough, almost face to face. 

Axel’s arms are crossed over his chest, a grim look on his face as he glances at Thomas who is next to him. Thomas was taller than Axel by what seemed like a lot, and you would think he would be just as intimidating or as much trouble as Dexter had been, but it was quite the opposite from what he had seen. “Please, mister. We know that we know.” Axel begins, just as Maggie and Glenne exit the guard tower behind them and seem surprised at the situation in front of them. “But you gotta understand… we can’t live in that place another minute. All those bodies, people we knew! Blood, brains everywhere! They’re ghosts!” He pleads with the group in front of them, and Sydney can’t help but feel bad for the two of them.

“Why don’t you move the bodies out?” Daryl questions as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“We tried! We did!” Axel shoots back, throwing his hands up wildly in the air.

Thomas fixes his glasses and sighs, “The fence is down on the far side of the prison. Every time we drag a body out, those things just line right up. We just drop a body and have to run back inside.”

Axel steps forward, towards Rick, who he knows to be the leader. “Look, we had nothing to do with Dexter and Andrew, nothing! They were sick men, we knew it from the start. But you don’t exactly get a choice of who to stick with when you’re locked in the same room!” Sydney can tell the blonde is desperate, just trying to make amends for what had happened. “You just trying to prove a point? You proved it, bro! We’ll do whatever it takes to be a part of your group, just, please, please, don’t make us live in the place!” Axel continues on his rant, staring at Rick. 

Rick doesn’t seem to even think, “Our deal is not negotiable. You either live in your cell-block, or you leave.”

Thomas steps forward to stand next to Axel, “I told you there was no point in trying.” He tells the blonde before he turns his attention on Rick, “We had to drag so many of our friends out this week… like they were nothing, just trash. They were good guys. Now, we’ve all made mistakes to get in here, and I won’t pretend to be a saint… But we’ve paid our due. Enough that we would rather hit the road than spend another minute in there.”

Sydney chews on his bottom lip and glances at Rick, who had turned his head to look at Daryl for some sort of opinion on the situation. There was a pause, but Daryl just shakes his head as in ‘no.’

Daryl had personally escorted them to the gate, and locked them out, as the others crowded behind the overturned bus in the yard for a discussion. “I just… I feel bad, they do seem like good guys! I know that’s ironic considering they’re in prison but... “ Sydney trails off. 

“Are you serious?” Rick asks, bewildered, “You want them living in a cell next to you? They’ll just be waiting for a chance to grab our weapons, you want to go back to sleeping with one eye open?”

“No, because I never stopped. I don’t exactly sleep peacefully in case you haven’t noticed.” Sydney snaps, trying to not feel bad, but Rick had started it. There was one night, where Sydney woke up screaming again and Daryl had to violently shake him awake to make him stop. He hadn’t even remembered what he had been dreaming of, but it was enough to wake up the whole cell block (except for Jimmy) because they thought someone was hurt. That was awkward to explain. “They spent the entire apocalypse in a cafeteria, they barely know how to kill walkers. We send them out there, we’re practically killing them ourselves.” Sydney explains.

Jimmy, the youngest of all of them, decides to speak up, “We fought hard for this though, it was a lot of work. We are still working. We have no idea what they might do if given the chance!”

“It’s just been us for so long, they’re strangers. Prisoners. It feels weird all of a sudden to have them around.” Maggie confesses to the others, arms crossed over her chest.

“You brought Rick’s group in, and you guys let me stay,” Sydney argues, seemingly always the one to be on the opposite side of everyone.

“Rick showed up with a shot boy in his arms, not giving us a choice. And you brought Sophia back to her mother, they weren’t exactly gonna throw you out.” Maggie replied, which well, was true.

“Most of you wanted to execute Randall because you thought he was dangerous, yet here he is. And don’t even say it's because he’s a kid. After all, you wanted to kill him even when you did know that fact.” Of course, he was well aware of the fact that Axel and Thomas could turn out to be a problem but there had to be something that they could do for them. Instead of just leaving them to fend for themselves, practically sending them to their deaths.

“They are convicts…” Glenn trails off.

“The two of them combined might have less blood on their hands than us.” Just less than Rick if he was being honest. Tony, Dave, Shane, Dexter. Not that they weren’t justified, but blood was blood. 

Daryl scoffs from beside him, “Let them take their chances out on the road, just like we did.”

Rick looks at Sydney, and maybe he understands what Sydney was trying to say and maybe he wishes that he could easily allow those two to join their group. He doesn’t know, because all Rick says is, “We’ve been through too much. Our deal stands.”

“Move the cars to the upper yard. Point them facing out. They’ll be out of the way but ready to go if we ever need to bail.” Rick tells the others as they walk down the yard, white shirt already filled with dirt from the day's work. He slows his speed to walk in pace with Sydney, who seemed to be sulking slightly from the decision with the prisoners. “We’ll give the prisoners a week’s worth of supplies for the road.” He tells Sydney.

Sydney glances at him, “They might not last the week.”

“Their choice.”

He scoffs at that response, “Did they really have a choice though? Or did you just decide for them?” He hated the fact that he was arguing with Rick in the first place, but he just hated the idea of sending those prisoners out there. Maybe he wasn’t too sure about inviting them into their cell block but he thought that there had to be some sort of agreement that they could come to then sending them out to their death.

Rick grabs his arm and stops him in place, “Hey, whose blood would you rather have on your hands? Maggie’s, Glenn’s, or theirs?” He asks coldly.

Sydney rips away from his grip and simply answers, “Neither.” Before he walks away.

While Glenn, Daryl, and Rick were on the outskirts of the fence, Jimmy, Maggie, Glenn, and Sydney were moving the vehicles to where Rick had told them to. After they were finished with that, the door to their cell block opened and the rest of the group came piling out. It was apparent why, when he saw Hershel was being helped down the stairs with a pair of crutches by Lori and Beth. That was nice, to see him up and about. 

Once they had made it down, Jimmy immediately went to meet Randall who was limping over to him with his cane. From what he could see, the two began a conversation as soon as they met up and Sydney couldn’t help but smile. The two were such close friends, and he was really happy that Randall could have someone his age to rely on. 

There was a brief moment for just conversation, as everyone watched as Hershel made his way through the yard on the crutches. He made it look so easy. 

It was all broken by the shout of, “Look out! Walkers!” Which came from Carl, who had turned around and spotted the overflowing amount of walkers that had been stumbling towards them.

That’s when the chaos started. 

In the distance, he could hear Rick screaming for them to get out of there, and with dread realized how far three of their best fighters were away from them. Glenn, Rick, and Daryl had to run around the outside of the prison and unlock the gate to get back up there. 

Sydney regrets leaving his bat inside the prison, but thankfully he still had his hatchet and gun on him. He unclipped his gun and ran after the others, such as Maggie and Jimmy who had started shooting at the walkers to the best of their ability. Beth was running back towards where they came from, trying to get the fence open again for Hershel to get through, who was currently trying to get past the walkers while on crutches. He moves pretty fast. 

He realizes where the walkers are coming from, and anyone around him doesn’t matter at that moment, “That gate is open!” He yells to whoever can hear him, lifting his gun and shooting the walkers that got too close. 

The group was quickly getting split up, moving in all different directions, and trying to get to a safe place. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Maggie urging Carl, Lori, and Sophia into a different entrance, and slamming the gate shut behind her. Beth and Hershel had made it to the other enclosure safely, backs against the door and staring out at the mess in front of them. Glenn, Rick, and Daryl hadn’t made it back yet. Jimmy and Randall were nowhere to be seen.

He shoots his gun a couple more times, making a break for the gate and practically falling against it. Walkers were piled on the other side, stumbling towards him and trying to get through. A walker gets too close and he fires the gun, but it doesn’t go off, and he realizes that he’s run out of bullets and any ammo he still has is in the cell block. He hurriedly clips it back into his holster and kicks the nearest walker back as he slams the gate shut. They bang against the fence and his weight, and he realizes that the lock has been cut off. Sydney wraps the chains around it and ties it to the best of his ability, but it probably won’t be held for long. Behind him, someone lets out a blood-curdling scream. 

He whips around in time to see a walker sinking its teeth into the side of Carol’s neck and tearing out the side of it, blood spurting everywhere. Sydney is stunned to the spot, watching as Sophia’s mother bleeds out right in front of him. She continues screaming.

Sydney rushes forward and shoves the walker off of the woman, planting his hatchet straight into its head. Behind him, Carol falls to her knees and then lands on her side.

“Oh, shit.” He says mostly to himself, turning to see her grasping at her neck and failing to stop the blood that pours onto the ground beside her. More walkers are starting to get closer, and as he looks down at the dying woman he realizes he can’t do anything else for her. “I’m sorry.” He tells Carol, before he stands up, kicking another walker away before making it to the first door he sees. It’s big, heavy, and metal and he struggles to pull it close. The walkers are seconds from getting in as he slams it shut with all his might, having to drop his hatchet to do so. 

Sydney barely has time to catch his breath as he takes a step backward and his whole world crashes, having not realized he had stepped into some stairs, and he tumbled backward down the stairs. His head smacks against the concrete ground and the entire world goes black for a second, an instant migraine forming from the collision. He tries to stable himself but everything shakes, and it’s almost so dark he can only see a few feet in front of him. 

Suddenly, as if his day wasn’t bad enough, a loud alarm starts to blare throughout the prison. He grunts and rolls over onto his back, covering his ears in pain. He already felt like he was going to throw up from falling down the stairs, and he’s disoriented, and most importantly … 

He does not hear the walker that comes from the direction of the tunnels until the thing trips right onto him. 

He screams, out of fear and panic, scrambling to try and push the thing off of him. Then, he screams again when he feels teeth sink into his stomach, right next to his belly button. Sydney kicks with all his might, shoving the walker off of him. Despite his dizziness, he glances around frantically, spotting his hatchet a few feet away. He scrambles and grabs at it, ignoring the loud ringing in his ears and the urge to vomit, turning around and catching the walker across the face with it as it comes back for more. He falls over, with it, the world tumbling as he does. The walker is just stunned on the ground but still growling, and he raises his hand and smashes the weapon down onto its head multiple times until it stops. He falls back against the concrete ground and stares up at the ceiling, trying to breathe.

His stomach burns from the bite, but he just continues to lay there. 

Having escaped into the tunnels, Jimmy and Randall were currently trying to outrun a group of walkers. Run was a strong word if you count Randall attempting to keep up with Jimmy and Jimmy grabbing his arm and trying to drag him along. “Randall, I know you got a busted leg, but I need you to try and go faster.” The taller brunette begs the shorter male, who was breathing heavily. The groans of the walkers were getting closer.

“I’m trying! Don’t you think I would go faster if I could!” Randall practically shouted at Jimmy, except he wasn’t trying to snap at Jimmy, he was just terrified. They had been separated from the rest of the others, and neither of them had ever been anywhere inside the prison except their cellblock, so they were just running around the tunnels aimlessly and trying to find somewhere to get away from the walkers.

“Sorry!” Jimmy tells him quickly, stopping briefly to both give Randall a moment to breathe and fire two shots into two walkers who were the closest, being very grateful for all the gun practice he had gotten over the months on the road. There were way too many of them to take on, and not enough bullets, so their best chance was to find somewhere to hide. 

Randall pulls back his cane and wacks the first walker in reach, causing it to go stumbling back and bump into a couple of the other walkers. He glances at Jimmy.

“Why was that actually sort of effective?” Jimmy tells him as he watches the walkers stumble into each other and try to regain their balance to follow after their meal, but he takes this opportunity to grab Randall and keep running. 

There had to be some side door they could get into.

The inside of cellblock C is littered with walkers, and Rick, Daryl, Glenn have to take the time to kill them all before they could even think about anything else. The two prisoners are with them, standing by but unable to do anything without any weapons. 

“Lori! Carl!” Rick screams into the empty cells, walkers littering the ground having been shot and dealt with by him. His once white shirt is now completely changed color, covered in blood and dirt from the walkers. They had already lost someone at least, Carol, who Beth had told him got bit and Sydney was with her for a moment before he disappeared. She had told him that Lori, Carl, and Sophia were led back into the cell block by Maggie but they were nowhere to be seen.

Daryl, Glenn, Axel, and Thomas appear in the doorway and Daryl is the first one to speak, “We just took down five of ‘em in here.”

Rick stares at the bodies, “There were six in here, but no sign of anyone.”

Glenn looks around nervously, “They must have been pushed back into the prison when they saw the walkers in here. Who knows where they are now.”

“Somebody is playing games!” Rick shouts angrily, the alarm still blaring throughout the prison and alerting prisoners from all around, “We’ll split up and look for the others.” He begins his way out of the cell and hears the footsteps following behind him, “Whoever gets to the generator first, shut ‘em down!” 

They split off into two groups, one with Rick, Daryl, and Thomas while Axel follows Glenn. “Let’s go!” Daryl urges them, shutting the cell door behind them and leaving the safety of their cellblock. 

Sydney had trapped himself inside a room, shutting the door behind him as quietly as he could so no walkers would have heard it. He thinks it was used for storage at one point, but he doesn’t care at that moment. He slumps to the ground, his back against the wall.

He looks down at his stomach, where everything seems fine at first because his shirt was only covered in blood that could either be his or walkers. Somehow, he had to guess that his shirt had ridden up when the walker had fallen on him, which caused his shirt to not be torn at all. He sucks in through his teeth as he pulls up his shirt to reveal the bite, in the shape of what used to be human teeth. It gushes an ugly dark color and Sydney groans in pain, leaning his head back against the wall and letting his shirt fall back into place. His hatchet lay beside him.

His head still hurt, it was pounding, and the alarm still hadn’t stopped ringing throughout the prison. He had no idea what to do. 

Was he going to turn? Was he going to die? He had no idea how it worked, so much information was pouring into his brain and he couldn’t think of an answer. Rick had told them, months ago, that everyone was infected and that when they die, they turn.

He had died before, during the apocalypse, multiple times. He hadn’t turned into a walker. What did that mean? Was he immune? Or did that just not count because it wasn’t a bite?

He still felt dizzy and his whole body burned, and it was as if he could feel the infection spreading throughout his body. It was inside his veins, inside his blood, everywhere. And it hurt. It hurt a lot. He realizes that even if he wanted to shoot himself to see what happens, he can’t because his gun is out of bullets.

Guess he should’ve kept to the mentality of, ‘always leave one for yourself.' Yeah well, he’ll be doing that from now on if he survives this. 

He doesn’t make any move to leave, mostly because he isn’t sure if it's safe out there but also because he doesn’t think he has the strength to get back up again. So, he just keeps sitting there and decides that he’s not going to even attempt to move again until the bite either kills him or turns him. Or maybe both. 

Daryl and Thomas slam the door behind them as the walkers throw themselves against the door and they struggle to hold it close, while Rick is moving farther into the generator room to try and figure out how to make the alarm stop. “How do you shut these down?” He shouts towards Thomas, who they knew to have previously worked in the generator for a couple of days. 

“Go help him! I got it!” Daryl tells Thomas, despite leaving only himself to hold the door shut. His feet were sliding on the floor as he pushed against it, trying to deal with the loss of Thomas’s weight against the door. 

Thomas moves to join Rick, pointing towards something, “Right here.”

Rick nods and touches his hand against some sort of fuse box and just as he touches a button, in front of him Andrew appears. The darker-skinned man brings an ax down towards Rick and narrowly misses it as Rick dodges it, the hit landing into the fuse box and causing sparks to fly.

Thomas moves forward to grab it from Andrew, only to get hit with the dull end of the ax to the face and fall over. As Andrew is turned towards Thomas, Rick catches him off guard and grabs the ax, trying to tug it from Andrew’s grasp. The darker-skinned man’s eyes are wild and fearless, only looking for bloodshed. This had been the man to wreak havoc on the prison and destroy everything that they had worked so hard towards. 

In the background, Daryl is still struggling to hold the door shut.

Rick and Andrew keep pushing against each other and one person can’t seem to overpower the other, slamming each other into the generators and fighting over the ax. Rick’s head smacks painfully against the side of a generator but he doesn’t even slow down, but it was enough for Andrew to lift the ax and smack him across the face with it. He stumbles back and pulls his revolver out, but just as he fires it, Andrew smacks the weapon out of his hand and it slides across the ground.

Daryl is forced to let the door open as his feet slide against the door, the walkers pushing too hard against the door. He scoops his crossbow off the ground and shoots it into the head of one of the walkers, and uses his hunting knife to take out the other. Just as fast as he opened it, he slams it shut again.

Andrew jumps on Rick and they tumble to the ground, fighting against each other as Rick attempts to grab the revolver which was just out of his reach. He gets his footing and kicks Andrew hard, sending him back, but it works out in Andrew’s favor when the other grabs the ax again and tries to take a swing at Rick.

An empty barrel comes flying out of nowhere and hits Andrew in the face, stopping the ax from coming down on Rick. It was from Thomas, who had finally recovered from the blow to the face he had taken from his former friend. By the time the two of them have stood up again, Thomas had taken possession of the gun and was pointing it at Rick. 

Rick held out his hand in a peace gesture, while Andrew began encouraging him from behind RIck, “Shoot him! We can take this prison!”

There was hesitation.

“What are you waiting for!” Andrew shouted, “Do it! It’s our house, shoot him!”

The gun fires, but it’s Andrew’s brains who are splattered on the wall and his body that hits the ground. Thomas stares at Rick before he hands the gun to him. 

Rick just nods and takes his weapon back, quickly moving to shut the generators down.

Jimmy and Randall had managed to find somewhere to hold, just long enough so they could let the walkers pass by. They weren’t sure how long they should wait, but they knew they couldn’t exactly stay down there forever. Except, they had no idea where they were going and when they left this room it would once again blindly be running around.

Jimmy helped Randall sit down on the ground, Randall letting out a soft hiss of pain from his leg as he did so. He wasn’t so used to putting a lot of pressure on it, and it had been bothering him more lately, so having to run on it had done him in. “Ouch, fuck.” Randall placed a hand on his leg, massaging it, his cane placed beside him.

The other took a seat next to him on the other side, leaning against the wall and letting out a breath. “I hope everyone is okay,” Jimmy says idly because everyone had seemed okay the last time he had seen them but that doesn’t mean anything now. Everyone had been scattered, and he wasn’t even sure if anyone had even managed to group back together. 

“I think they’ll be fine. I know at least Hershel and Beth were, last time we saw them.” Randall concludes.

Jimmy can’t help but raise his eyebrows at the mention of Beth, shooting Randall a look.

“Oh my god, Jimmy.” Randall practically groans, this time not from physical pain, “We just got finished running for our lives and your first reaction is that?”

He just shrugs in response, “Hey, I was just thinking positively. What else am I supposed to do?” 

Randall rolls his eyes, “Only you would try and talk about this now.”

“I’m going to try to not be offended by that, would you rather we sit here shaking and crying and hoping we get rescued?” Jimmy argued to the other, knowing for a fact he definitely wouldn't want to be. He doesn’t stop though, “Plus, Hershel is doing fine now and he’s even back up on his feet. That means you can…”

Randall cuts him off by smacking his shoulder, “Definitely not a priority right now, okay? And just because the dude has one leg, doesn’t mean he still can’t kill me. We are practically on even playing grounds, we are both crippled. He might beat me to death with his crutches.

Jimmy just shakes his head, “Okay, maybe. But Hershel is a good guy. Took me in and made sure I was safe from the beginning, didn’t even think I was a bother or anything. Plus, his best friend is the bible. He definitely won’t kill you.” 

Randall opens his mouth to say something but he stops when he hears some distant voices that are growing closer, and they both go quiet. Jimmy can’t tell who it is from behind the door, so he stands up, “Stay here. I’ll check who it is.” He doubts it's an enemy, but he mostly just doesn’t want to make Randall stand up until he has to.

He pulls open the door slowly and peeks his head out, and his relief is instant when he realizes that it’s Glenn and the blonde prisoner, Axel. “Oh, thank god.” He says once they get closer, pulling the door open all the way. “Where is everyone else?” Jimmy questions the two of them.

“Hershel and Beth are safe, and Rick, Daryl, and Thomas went to shut off the alarm. I guess they were successful. Carol is…” Glenn trails off, but he knows that it doesn’t need any more explaining than that. 

“I have Randall with me, can you help? We had to run a bit and his leg isn’t doing too good.” He looks back in the room where Randall is making a face to say, ‘hello, I’m right here.’

Axel looks between them, “He’s the man with the weapon, so I’ll help ya’.” He tells the younger boy, trying to be helpful. Jimmy realizes that Axel is without weapons and Glenn is the one with the machete and gun. 

“Just please tell me you know how to get out of here.”

“You’re gonna beat this world, I know you will.”

The words ring through Sophia’s ears, and she doesn’t think that she will ever forget them. Her cheeks are stained with tears and she tries to fight back the rest of them that are trying to fall, but she can’t. They just keep coming. On the floor, in front of her, was Lori. 

She was dead.

Sophia had heard her screams and she thought she still could when Maggie had sunk the knife deep inside her and started cutting. All of them had been crying, weeping for what was about to come but it didn’t seem real until Lori had stopped making noise. Now she was splayed out onto the floor, and Sophia was staring at the wound that the baby had come from moments ago. Her hands were stained a red color, from when she had helped Maggie. 

Carl was standing next to her, his gun held loosely in his hands and he was crying too. Maggie had wrapped the baby in Carl’s sweater, but when it had come time to take care of Lori, Carl had said he could do it. It was his mom after all.

Sophia couldn’t just let him do that alone… She wouldn’t want someone to do that to her. 

They’re both staring at the body on the floor until Sophia can’t take it anymore and she pulls her sweater off. She lays it over Lori’s bottom half, covering the wound and anything else was showing. She didn’t deserve that. 

“Goodbye, Lori.” She says to the woman on the floor, who would have in her mind no doubt made the best mother ever. Sophia stands back up and returns to her place next to Carl, and she reaches down and grabs his hand and interlocks their fingers. He doesn’t pull away, but he squeezes her hand.

He raises the gun and Sophia can’t even look away.

A gunshot rings through the room.

In the tunnels, Rick, Daryl, and Thomas end up regrouping with Glenn, Axel, Jimmy, and Randall. Axel and Jimmy are helping to support Randall to walk, who is limping more than usual. They continue down the corridors until finally, they reach a door that leads back to the courtyard. Sun fills in through the door when they open it, everyone is eager to get back out and as far away from the tunnels as possible. 

“Hershel!” Rick calls out to the older man once he spots him and Beth on a set of stairs, looking around at all the walker bodies. 

“You didn’t find ‘em?” Hershel questions worriedly. 

“We thought maybe they came back out here,” Glenn explains.

“The others are still out there, Maggie, Sophia, Sydney, Carl, Lori.” Jimmy rattles off the names of the people that aren’t there. 

Rick rubs a hand over his face, “We have to go back for them. Daryl and Glenn, you come with me…”

A baby’s cry can be heard.

Everyone turns to look towards the sound, even Randall who is now just supporting himself on his cane. 

It’s Sophia, Carl, and Maggie. They all look awful, as Maggie pushes open the gate with her blood-stained hands and in the other, she’s supporting a baby against her chest. She’s crying quietly, and her mouth opens to say a word but she can’t get anything out. Her teeth chatter against one another, and Sophia and Carl are unable to even look up from the ground. Lori is very clearly nowhere among them.

“Where… Where is she?” Rick asks Maggie, as he moves towards her, but Maggie just starts crying harder. He attempts to go back into the prison but Maggie grabs at his arm, “No, Rick, don’t.” She begs him.

Rick turns to stare at Carl, who was still staring at the ground, his gun still in his hand. 

“Oh, no. No, no, no.” Rick starts crying himself, hands resting on his head in disbelief as he looks at his son. Behind him, Glenn tries to comfort Maggie but all the girl can do is just cry into his arms while still holding the baby. 

The former police officer falls to the ground in despair, still crying, hands over his face. No one is saying anything but watching the scene go down.

Sydney is nowhere to be seen.