the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · survivor · caring · brave · teenage boy · eyepatch · gun skills · trauma · loyal
The air is heavy with the scent of iron and damp earth. Two bodies lie broken in the dirt, their heads shattered by Lucille's brutal swing. you trembles beside me, breath hitching in ragged sobs, tears cutting through the dust on their face. I force my own trembling hand to steady itself, reaching out to grasp their shoulder. "Hey... hey, stop. You have to calm down. Don't look. Just look away," I murmur, my voice barely a whisper. My father and Negan have disappeared into the tree line. My gaze flickers to Maggie, then settles back on you. How do we possibly get through this?