Finding the good in villains; the worst in heroes

You knew with immediate certainty that you made a mistake. 

A colossal one.

In just a few seconds, you had managed to back yourself into a corner. You invited this. You invited him in. You pandered to his delusion, and now you knew undoubtedly that you were going to suffer for it. Things would’ve been just fine if you’d just carried on as normal. You had been miserable, sure. But feeling miserable was better than whatever the hell this was. Things would’ve been just fine if you hadn’t done it. You would’ve been fine. 

But that was the problem.

You had done it, and things weren’t so fine anymore.

In your defense, you were feeling unbearably lonely. Who could blame you for seeking comfort and intimacy in the midst of such a dark time in your life? It wasn’t your fault you were in this situation to begin with. Your last living relative was just brutally murdered, and apart from a handful of friends that were scattered across the country, you were completely alone in the world.

Well, not completely alone.

Enter your ex-boyfriend. 

Nevertheless, you knew you had made a big mistake by calling Matt, and now he was kissing you with a sense of urgency that only seemed to grow as the seconds ticked by. 

As always, he was overwhelming you. 

His hands were everywhere. Gently cupping your face, roughly tugging your hair, wrapping around your waist. He had you pressed up against the wall, and then the couch, and now the floor. You couldn’t get away from him, not even if you wanted to. 

The smartest part of you—the part of you that your loneliness and grief was currently drowning out—badly wanted to escape. Not just wanted to, but needed to. Because that part of you knew—knew without a shadow of a doubt—that if you didn’t get away now, who was to say you ever would? You could hear your conscience screaming at you. You could practically see the words blurring together at the edges of your vision.

What in the everloving fuck are you doing? 

Warm, tired, heady. Your head was swimming as he kissed you. He pulled away momentarily to bury his face in the crook of your neck, turning his head to kiss you there. He wrapped his arms around you, pressing all of his weight into you as you laid back on the floor. You were out of breath, struggling to regain any sense of composure or dignity you had left. 

Whether you were underneath him or not, Matt always had a way of making you feel small. 

“Jesus Christ,” he mumbled against your neck, breathless. He chuckled to himself. “Is it obvious that I missed you?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, reaching up to push his hair away from his eyes. “Maybe a little.”

The moment of levity didn’t last long. 

They never seemed to. 

You froze, letting out a little gasp as one of his hands reached up to wrap around your neck. He placed the other hand in the center of your chest, pressing you down into the hardwood floor. 

Gently, always. He was always gentle at first.

“You know, it’s really kind of pathetic,” he said. “I’ve always loved you. From the very first time I heard your heartbeat, I knew I loved you. Did you know that?”

You were quiet for a moment, studying him carefully. The fine lines in his forehead, the little flecks of hazel in his eyes. You always wondered how Matt envisioned you, what you looked like through his eyes. You always wondered if he could see you, whether he would find you just as perfect as you found him.

Physically, anyway. 

“Did you know that?” he repeated.

“No, I didn’t know that.” You reached up and wrapped a hand around his wrist, trying to pry his hand from your neck, but he didn’t move. Just tightened his hold. Only slightly, but still. It was enough that you felt it. 

"I have to be honest. All these months away from you, it’s been hard. Really hard.”

You weren’t thinking. 

“I’m sorry,” you said. 

But you hadn’t meant it. 

And that was your first mistake. 

Matt paused for a moment, remaining completely still as you stared up at him. After what felt like forever, he scoffed, letting out a dry laugh as his grip on your neck continued to tighten. You quickly realized your mistake. The little voice in your head was screaming at you.

Get out of here right now. Get out of here right fucking now.

“Okay, sweetheart.”

He pressed down harder on your chest, making you let out a little cough. “Time to be honest. I was honest with you. Now it’s your turn.”

Your eyes widened. “Matt, what are y—”

“Tell me you missed me,” he said, raising his voice slightly. He tightened his hold further, shaking you. “Go on.”

It was never hard for you to read between the lines with Matt, especially when he got like this. 

Tell me you missed me. If you lie, I’ll know. And if you lie…

God help you.

Unfortunately, you knew you were screwed either way. 

You did, in fact, not miss your ex-boyfriend. You had missed certain aspects of being in a relationship, sure. But Matt specifically? No. You hadn’t missed Matt. Not really. You hadn’t missed being interrogated for going out with friends. You hadn’t missed the guilt trips when you didn’t cancel plans for him, or the endless barrage of questions when you got home from work later than expected. You hadn’t missed the blatant emotional manipulation, the gaslighting, the temper tantrums when he didn’t get what he wanted. 

You hadn’t missed the violence, no matter how occasional.

But your family was dead, and your friends were gone. You were lost, and you were lonely. Lonelier than you’d ever been. And that was how you found yourself underneath him, sprawled out on his living room floor with his hand around your neck.

Of course, you couldn’t just outright tell him that. 

But you couldn’t exactly lie to him, either. Because he would know. He always knew. You wondered what he would be angrier about—you lying about missing him, or being honest about not missing him at all. 

The safest option in a situation like this should’ve been to ignore his question altogether, but the growing pressure on your neck and your chest was making the silent treatment less and less appealing. He was demanding an answer, and either way, you knew you were going to be punished for it. You just didn’t know how badly.

Right before you were about to make up your mind, there was something you didn’t expect. 

His eyes began to tear up, and he started to shake.  

“You feeling shy today? Alright. At least tell me this, then. Why did you leave? Hm? Why did you leave me?”

“Matt—” you coughed, digging your nails into his hand. You were holding onto him so tight you thought you might draw blood, but he didn’t so much as flinch. 

“You couldn’t have told me in person? You couldn’t have given me that much?” he pressed. “Instead of just having a simple conversation with me, you leave me some ridiculous voicemail telling me I’m some kind of threat to you—telling me I’m too dangerous to be around when you were sleeping in my bed just two days before.” 

“You wouldn’t have let it go,” you rasped. 

“Goddamn right I wouldn’t have!”

“I shouldn’t have to be afraid t—”

“You know what? Why are you even here?” he snapped. “Why are you here with me right now if I’m so awful? Why did you call me if you hate me so much? Why did you come here?”

You could feel your head growing hot. You could hear your own heartbeat. 

“I don’t hate you."

“No. You don’t. But you don’t love me.”

He was right. You didn’t. And to Matt, that was far, far worse.

You were both quiet for a long time. And finally—finally—after a few more moments of torture, he loosened his grip and let his arms fall to his sides. You gasped for air, your lungs burning. He sighed loudly, as if you were being dramatic by trying to breathe.

“You don’t love me,” he said flatly. “But you will.”

“Matt,” you coughed.

"No? What the hell do you mean 'no'?" Shane asks gruffly in exasperation, tilting his head as he leans in towards you while he tries to wrap his mind around your simple answer.

"’No', as in I don't want to have a baby with you, Shane!" You raise your voice a little, starting to grow annoyed the longer he continues this ridiculous notion he was on today.

"Oh. Oh, okay, I see. So you just wanna to tease for fun, but when it's the real deal, for the greater good—"

"—'the greater good'?” You ask, mocking the way he said it, “Really? That's what this is about?"

You glare at him over your shoulder, starting to snatch down the clothes off the line and shove them in the basket as the clothespins tumble into the grass.

"Yeah, yeah it is. Because if you weren't so stubborn and got your head out of your—" Shane starts again, but you cut him off again.

"—not because you're jealous of Rick then? Of his family? I know you took advantage of Lori." You snap, dropping the basket on the ground as you fully turn around to see his jaw shifting with frustration.

"I did not! Rick was dead. You know that, everyone knows that, it's what we all thought!" Shane rasps, stepping closer towards you as he puts his hands on his hips to stare down at you.

"We all thought he was gone, so you didn't wait to step in, did you? No, you didn't because you couldn't fucking wait—"

"—fuck off, you don’t know shit, girl." He practically growls at you, which makes you huff in annoyance as you cross your arms over your chest. Shane's jaw clenches again, and in a certain way you want to laugh in his face. You probably would feel worse about Lori's death… if you had actually met her. But all the women in the camp talk, especially Andrea.

"I know enough, Walsh." You bite back bitterly, scooping up the laundry basket before walking back to the farm house. You can feel Shane's glare pierce through your back, but you refuse to acknowledge him again, especially with this idea of wanting to purposefully get you pregnant in his head.

Later, while everyone was eating dinner, Shane sits himself beside you with a reason. You only knew because of the way his muscular thigh was pressing up snug against yours as you both sit on the rickety old bench. Shane finishes eating in minutes and just when you think he'll move to get up and leave, he shifts closer, about to drape his strong arm around your shoulders. You shrug his arm off and give him an annoyed look. Shane sighs and rolls his eyes, glancing away from you to look at all the others.

Judith had only started toddling earlier in the week and Rick was as proud as ever of course. Currently, Carl was following her around, making sure she didn't waddle in the makeshift fire pit or fall down too hard.

"Hey bud, c'mere." Shane calls him over, and you can't help but laugh softly as Carl struggles to corral Judith towards you and Shane.

"Yeah?" Carl asks when he gets close enough, his dad's sheriff hat nearly tilting down over his eyes as he watches Judith drag her little crocheted stocking covered feet over a particularly crunchy leaf.

"Why don't you go eat before it gets too cold? I can watch this lil sweetheart for you." Shane assures Carl with a smile, and Carl only hesitates a moment, glancing at you before running off towards the table of food.

You could already see what was coming as Shane slips from his seat on the bench, and kneels in front of Judith.

"C'mere, baby." He growls playfully, scooping Judith up and lightly shaking her as she breaks out into a fit of sweet giggles. Shane grins, that rare kind of grin that scrunches his nose up, before turning to face you. You shake your head silently, trying to hide your smile at the cute interaction.

With chunky toddler Judith now perched on his hip, Shane settles back onto the bench close beside you.

"Now Judith, you have to help me out here, baby girl," Shane starts, catching her attention with her name," We need to convince my darlin’ here that you need a friend, right?"

Judith gurgles a gibberish answer, her hands softly patting together, clapping in the way that babies do. It was still as cute as ever, especially with her chunky little arms and fingers. And if the rumors you had heard were true, it was obvious Judith was Shane's daughter. They both had matching brown eyes.

"Shane, this is not fair." You complain lightly, now catching Judith's attention with your voice. You can't help but smile widely at her, cooing out a "hi baby".

"Miss, I need a friend to play with, I'm so lonely and sad," Shane interprets Judith's words in a too high pitched voice, shaking the toddler's arms. Despite his words for her, Judith giggles, stretching her little arms across Shane's chest towards you. You sweep her from him and into your lap, bouncing her lightly. You had to admit, Judith was really cute while snuggled close to your chest.

After a moment, Shane leans in precariously close to your ear.

“I'd give you however many you want, darlin’. Just say the word.”

Unsurprised, you roll your eyes and elbow him back a bit. Still, you feel warmth rise to your face. And it wasn't from the campfire.

“Night, Walsh.” You murmur, carefully depositing Judith back onto his lap before getting up to go to bed in your tent.

In your hiding from Shane, you had indeed gone to bed. Only for you to have a nightmare. It wasn't extremely bad, but when you woke up, it left you feeling nervous and jittery. Making you glance over your shoulder every now and then despite sitting alone in your small tent. The back of your neck was itchy with a sheen of sweat and eventually you couldn't take it.

You wander out of your tent in your improvised nightgown of an old scavenged men's shirt, hoping the cool night air would help calm you. Glancing around, you see Shane awake on watch duty, an old hunting rifle leaning against his knee. He catches you staring at him, his eyebrows furrowing before jerking his chin up at you. A silent half hearted gesture that you knew meant "come here".

You hesitate, now shivering in your nightgown as the cool breeze flows by. On one hand, Shane was tough and capable. Even strong, although you'd never admit that out loud. He was a protector and would definitely make you feel safe, even against your unconscious worries. But then again… you didn't want to go to him because of everything else. This whole delusion of wanting you to be his baby mama, like the world wasn't so dystopian. You literally just had a nightmare about walkers!

In another life, you would have never met him. You couldn't decide if that would have been a good thing or not.

You take your time walking to him and once you get close enough, his hand encompasses one of your wrists. Shane easily pulls you into him and sits you on his thigh. And you just let him. In this position, you can't help but lean into his chest as his arm slips around your waist, not very tightly, yet still holding you against him.

"Bad dream?" Shane asks you knowingly in a low voice. He smells like beer and day old sweat, but hey, at least it wasn't rotting flesh. In your dream, walkers had surrounded you and were clawing and moaning for a taste of your flesh. You woke before they could get it.

"Yeah." You breathe out quietly, still a bit shaken up.

“You know I'd never let anything happen to you, right?”

“Yeah.”

“That I'd do anything to keep walkers off your sweet ass? Wouldn't let any of ‘em get a bite before I do,” Shane continues more lightheartedly, patting at your hip and flashing a wolfish grin at you, which makes you smile back faintly.

You sit there wrapped in his arm’s embrace as his other hand rubs over your knee for a long moment before anxiety starts to creep in. Although, not about the zombies for once.

"Are you still upset with me? About earlier?"

"Nah, don't worry your pretty head about it." Shane rasps with a certain tone of finality in his voice, his thumb bouncing against your hip.

This unfortunately is entirely unhelpful, so you decide to pry further into his beer addled mind.

"Why do you want a baby?"

Shane meets your eyes then as he looks at you, raising his eyebrows. A "you sure you want to talk about this" sort of look.

"In that hospital, when the world began fallin' apart—when I thought my best friend was dead—I looked all around. There was no one there for me. I was all alone… thought of Lori and didn't want her to feel the same way." Shane's hand lifts from your knee to take a long swig of his beer then. The glass bottle chiming a clink against the metal barrel of the rifle as he sets the bottle back on the ground.

“So you were jealous of Rick's family.” You emphasize, causing Shane's grip on your hip to tighten.

“I want somethin’ I can call my own.”

You pause then, shifting to glance at his face, to see the glimpse of vulnerability he was showing you. Shane pointedly looks away from you.

“You should probably go back to bed, girl.” His voice was solemn and serious, his arm dropping from your waist.

For some reason, this really pisses you off. You were right there on his lap and now he didn't want you around? Oh, but he did want you to have his baby. You shift on his thigh, turning to fully face him, shifting your legs to curl beneath you as you sit on his lap.

“Why?” You prod, maybe a bit unfairly knowing how his temper could get the best of him.

Shane's gaze shifts, brown eyes clouded with hunger meeting yours, but despite the momentary unsettling feeling it gives you—you find it so undeniably attractive. But now you'd poked the bear.

“You fucking teasing me now, darlin’?” Shane murmurs lowly as one of his hands slides firmly up your thigh, boldly cupping your ass. A challenge. “‘Cause I'm about 5 seconds away from throwing you in my tent and not stopping till daybreak, sweetheart.”

“Shane!” You huff, both mildly annoyed and flustered, swatting a hit to the side of his head.

Shane only grins deviously, knowing he was getting to you as he bundles his arms around your thighs, squeezing you bodily closer.

“What? You like that idea, feisty? You're squirming, tell me-”

You slap your hand over his mouth and he groans dramatically, trying to nip at your palm. One of his hands slides up your side to easily tug down your hand that was on his mouth.

“I want my baby to look like you,” Shane comments rather sincerely, and you try not to smile, but ultimately fail.

“That's so... cheesy,” You muse softly as his fingers tangle with yours.

“But it's true, darlin’,” His lips land on your entwined knuckles and something softer was in his dark eyes as they meet yours.

Shane's head tilts and gently, his lips graze yours and it makes your breath catch in surprise. A beat later he captures your lips in a hungry kiss. It makes you sigh into his mouth, albeit helplessly melting against him as you return the kiss.

---

"Rick, there's a pretty girl in here trying to take advantage of me!"