Work Text:
A warm storm had blown in; dark clouds brew overhead with soft rumbles of thunder in the distance.
It almost makes you forget that the world has ended.
They had returned to the McFarlane Ranch after getting a message that it was getting overrun by the Undead again. It took a few hours to get everything cleaned up.
Jack was glad that Ms. McFarlane had allowed them in the main house for the night instead of spending it in the Foreman’s Office.
Even though Jack had long since gotten used to camping.
This is why Jack is sitting outside on the front steps and watching the storm move overhead. It’s quite peaceful for the first time in a long time.
Peace is an odd and almost foreign feeling.
Almost like he can’t quite get used to it anymore even before the end of the world.
Once the Undead have been cleared out, everyone returns to their tasks; rebuilding fences, restocking what they need, and even moving what remaining cattle to a different part of the farm.
Even during the end of the world, people continue to work.
“Big world out there, huh?”
Jack looks behind just as his Dad steps out of the house with two mugs that are steaming. His Dad hands one of them over and Jack almost drops the mug from how hot it is.
Sure, they haven’t had anything hot like this since the night their world was turned upside down; surviving on warm canned goods and half-heated coffee.
“I guess you can say that.” Jack takes a sip and realizes that it isn’t coffee. “Ms. McFarlane have hot chocolate?”
His Dad chuckles and takes a sip from his mug. “Yep, she figured with all our running around, we deserve to be treated this one time.” He looks down into his drink, a frown that pulls on his lips. “You know way back in the day, your Uncle Arthur would sometimes make his own version of hot chocolate. It never tasted right, not the way that Hosea would make it, but it’s one of my favourite memories of him.”
“I don’t remember Uncle Arthur that well,” Jack admits. “There would be brief flashes, like déjà vu in a strange way.”
There’s only one memory that Jack can remember clearly of his uncle; staring down at the man as the words grumbled but there was a sadness linked to it. Like he knew that would be his final time seeing his Uncle Arthur.
“I think I understand what you mean by that.”
There’s another rumble of thunder, closer now, and Jack counts in between before a flash of lightning shoots out of the clouds. The first strike of the storm; the starting point.
Jack flops into his father’s side, who barely reacts fast enough to save his drink. An arm is placed around him and he realizes that the hesitation that he normally has around his Dad has disappeared at some point. At the end of the world, Jack can say that he would turn to his father for just about anything.
He wonders if this didn’t happen, what their lives would be like? Jack doubts he would have been able to lean on his Dad for support without worrying about what he would think. Believing that everything he does is wrong…never being able to judge his Dad’s reaction like he can do now.
“Do you think we’re like this in other universes too?” Jack questions, not expecting much of an answer from his Dad.
“Um…” His Dad had taken another sip of his drink in thought about how to answer.
(A lone figure stands overlooking of a farm with a pair of gravestones behind him, accepting his new lonely life.)
(Another wanders alone among the Undead on a mission to restore order.)
(A body lays on the cold ground – still warm but without a life to be found – as the last of his family is with him, though he’ll never know.)
(The gun is still warm and the body of a man drifts farther away, realization coming to the man that he wasn’t sure if he had done the right thing anymore.)
“It doesn’t seem likely.”
Jack laughs, shaking his head, and settles back into his Dad’s side to watch the storm with him instead of worrying about their lives outside of this moment.