; black parade

"Where do you wanna go?” 

“–’Course.” She nodded and not just because she wanted to put him at ease but also because it was the smart move. While she didn’t think Robb was a danger she didn’t fully trust him and she wouldn’t put them in a position where they could be vulnerable. “If we head outta ‘ere now we should be able ta leave before dusk.” She added lightly before mapping out a plan in her head. That’s how it always was with her; planning, orchestrating the safest way to move forward. It worked though. “There’s what looks to be a plaza south of ‘ere, spotted it when I was huntin’ yesterday– Should be able ta get the necessities; water, food, gas and anything else ya think we might need.”

He headed towards their room–– well, okay, the room they slept in–– and almost instantly started shoving their belongings into a backpack. There wasn't much to pack, as they stayed only one night and had left most of the stuff in the truck, so after about three minutes, he was done and ready to go. He looked around the room and sighed. It was nice–– he couldn't deny that. But the truck wasn't all that bad, either. Fleet swung the backpack over his shoulder and left the room. 

After walking around the house for a while, he found her outside, standing there, and looking really nice in the sunlight–– he thought. He approached her, a smile appearing on his lips before he opened his mouth to speak. 

"Here ya' go," he said, handing her the gun she had pointed at Robb earlier, and then added:  "Lead the way."

"It depends on... stuff. But if everything goes well, we should be gone by morning." he looked up, putting the mug aside. 

“We can’t jus’ steal his stuff, it ain’t right.” Fae muttered as she took a few soft steps towards him, till she was right in front of him. Her hand reached out letting her fingers rest on his, the one that was clasped around one of the guns. “We’re goin’ ta put ‘em back, alright?” She spoke softly, just loud enough for him to hear and she left her hand touching his for awhile, finding comfort in it because it reminded her that she was still here; as if one touch could anchor her to reality instead of curling up into the inner depths of her mind till she was consumed by the darkness that lurked there. 

Seconds passed just listening to the sounds of them breathing before she made a move to find her voice once again. “– 'Bout that,” She breathed out not sure how he’d like this plan of hers, “Was thinkin’ we head outta 'ere to go scope out the area for supplies and food, maybe a place ta stay, see if it’s safe but come back 'ere; say thank you to the kind man and then we’ll leave. What do ya think?”

He didn't tell her any of it. He loved her, he cared about her. He trusted her. He trusted that she knew what she was doing–– because, well, she was good at those things. She was a good leader, so far her plans had been good, and so he didn't see the reason not to rely on her. 

Fleet bit down on his lower lip, nodding his head slightly, before putting the gun away without a word. He then dropped the backpack to the floor and took few steps away from it,  letting her know that none of these weapons would be carried out of the house. 

"Okay," he agreed to her plan, but after a moment added: "But we're taking all of our belongings with us." Of course. Trust issues. "In case.." he muttered, though not loud enough for her to hear.

                           ѕтяαηgє [̲̅l̲̅][̲̅o̲̅][̲̅o̲̅][̲̅k̲̅] ση нιѕ fαcє

                                          :̤̈p̤̤̈̈ä̤̤̈ṳ̤̈̈s̤̤̈̈ë̤̤̈s̤̈: 

                                        тнєη ѕαуѕ….

Robb observed every move Fleet’s hand did around his hips, holding his own hands up “Listen, kid…we just met.” he said coughing, and scratched the back of his neck “so could…you stop touching me?” he felt as if he was sounding like a dirty old man, perhaps a teacher being harrased by some of his students. He just didn’t like strangers touching him, specially when he was stressed. Fleet’s attitude wasn’t helping either, but he couldn’t blame them…if Felicia and Larry were still alive, he would probably take an agressive focus in order to protect them from every human being, and from those things and if Harriet was around? that would be hell for anyone that wasn’t her and he just knew that. He knew how fucking overprotective of her he came to be, but he didn’t know why. He loved her…but not that fiercely.

he observed the boy walking away, his body finally loosening slowly. They didn’t seem to be on the same page about him…it seemed like the girl didn’t believe him to be the psycho that Fleet thought. Another sigh, he should have stole the kitten.

Fleet sighed, for a second just standing there, ready to jump in the truck and drive off, but... she was right. After thinking about it for a few seconds, he realized that Faelynn had a point, a really good one. They couldn't take the risk and drive off and then run out of the gas in the middle of nowhere. And clearly, they were both tired, so even looking for gas right now was a no-go, as they'd probably pass out at some point. So, he had to agree to all this–– he figured. It was the best option, even though he absolutely hated it. 

He nodded his head, though didn't even try to hide that unamused look on his face. This wouldn't end well, and he knew it. The guy would definitely either kill them or want to team up with them–– Fleet could already tell. Or maybe the guy wouldn't even think about it, but then Faelynn, like the kind person she was, would offer him to tag along and whatnot, and then everything would be ruined. He could actually see that happening. And he decided that he wouldn't let Faelynn take it that far. Sure, if Robb didn't try to murder them they could be sorta friends for a day. But after that one day, he'd rather not see the guy ever again. 

It wasn't exactly because he was jealous. Okay, maybe a tiny bit, because, come on, let's be real–– Robb was a quite handsome individual, but okay, that wasn't quite the point. Fleet just didn't want the situation with Winston to happen again. He didn't want to befriend anyone else, and he didn't want to be forced to watch them die. He didn't want to see Faelynn break down, and he didn't want her to cry herself to sleep every night for solid two weeks or so. He didn't want them to go through all this again.

Besides, they were a duo, that was enough. They didn't need anyone else. 

"Fine," he grumbled, taking a step towards them. "One night–– no more." he stated, looking over at Robb. "And you–– don't fuckin' try anythin'." –– he wanted to say. But he didn't.

When the sun started to rise, he got up, trying to be as quiet and careful as possible. He didn't want to wake Fae up. Before leaving the room, he turned his head and looked over at the sleeping girl. She looked so peaceful, just lying there, with the sunlight falling on her face, her blonde hair. Something about that sight brought a smile to Fleet's face. But it faded, as he left the room. 

Somehow, he found himself at the other end of the house, with a backpack and weapons in his hands. He knew it was technically stealing, but come on–– he had done worse. This whole apocalypse had made everyone reckless. And this was nothing compared to all the other things he had done to keep Fae, and himself, alive. Plus, they needed more weapons. The more, the better. 

The knives were already in the backpack. He was packing the guns when he heard a voice behind him. He stopped, slowly turned around, and then, like nothing ever happened, gave the girl a small smile.

"Hey, glad you're up," he said, ignoring her question. "Ready to take off?"

“Fae.” he said memorizing her name, it made him think of faeries except she didn’t look evil. He choked a giggle when hearing the boy’s name “fleet?” he asked again “that’s…um, a good name.”  for a moment, even though he knew it was bad timing, he wondered why would any parent name their kid like that but stopped himself before coming out with a very negative answer. He didn’t like doing that, there was something so terrible about bringing people down without them even being aware of it. “I’m Robb, and i’m not a monkey man” how very rude of them to refer to him like that. “Yes, I am alone. You know what, if you please put your guns away I might as well consider it” he was going to say yes anyway, but he hated being in such a position.

For pretty much the whole time, Fleet was almost certain that he was pointing a gun at a total psychopath. He wasn't sure if it was the way Robb–– if that was even his real name–– spoke, or the way he looked or acted, but something about him seemed odd. Maybe it was just his still sleepy brain making shit up, but Fleet already knew that he didn't trust the guy. You know these pretty boys? These usually turned out to be the most dodgy. However, Fleet bit his tongue, decided against speaking his thoughts, and just nodded his head when Fae introduced him. 

He didn't understand what they were still doing there. The whole conversation seemed pointless, especially since they sure as hell were not going to stay or spend the night anywhere near that dude. Well, that's at least what Fleet liked to believe. Fae, on the other hand, seemed to have different thoughts on that one. 

Fleet sighed as he slung the rifle over his shoulder and lowered his hands down to Robb's hips–– in a very non-sexual way, of course–– before patting the guy's pockets, in a search for weapons. He wanted to make sure the man wouldn't try to shoot them or something, once they'd try to walk off. 

When those pockets turned out to be empty, Fleet walked in front of the guy and shoved his hands into the pockets of the jacket the other was wearing. When those turned out to be empty, too, he finally looked the guy in the eye and gave him a small almost-smile, before patting him on the shoulder and taking a step back. 

"Well, Robb, it was nice to meet ya'––" he trailed off, as he turned around and began walking back to the truck, expecting Fae to follow. But she didn't, so he stopped and turned around, looking at her. "You comin'?"

Sometimes he became very wary of the enjoyment he got from certain things, i’m not talking about killing if that’s what you were thinking but he did have to force himself to feel good about how life was treating him and to find happiness in little details so he would never his old life. Routine was a very important thing to him, now Robb was the type of person that loved adrenaline and trying new things, always looking for a new challenge but now routine was everything he had left from his old life.

It wasn’t night time yet, but he really didn’t feel like wasting time he could use for sleep. Robb had been tired the whole week, he couldn’t eat properly because of a strange feeling on his gut…it scared him, what i could mean but deep down he knew he was only human, that there was only so much a person could go being alone without feeling lonely. That’s when he saw her. Her blonde hair reminded of Harriet, though she would never use her hair like that…she was a huge fan of braids for some reason and always looked better with he hair down. Finding himself thinking about her for the second time in a week was odd…he stared for a moment without her even noticing.

Robb made his way to her, he didn’t seem to be upset by the situation or even frightened by the thought of having a gun aimed at him. He wondered why people continued to do such a thing, it was an everyday thing after all. Now, it wasn’t that Robb didn’t feel anything…no, it wasn’t that. He was definitely feeling something similar to happiness. “We should introduce ourselves” he said, clearly not joking “before you try to kill me.” He wasn’t alone after all, this realization made him feel better. It made him feel glad that he wasn’t what was left.

The past two weeks had been practically sleepless for Fleet. He'd often wake up in the darkness, in sweat and tears, after getting approximately two hours of sleep, and then he'd just sit there. Still in the darkness. On his mattress. And he'd listen to nothing, as there was always complete silence in the room. And he'd focus on nothing, because then he'd get paranoid. So, for the rest of the night, it was just him and nothing. His eyes mindlessly staring at the ceiling, as he desperately tried to fall back asleep, but always ended up failing. 

Insomania. It first came when he was nineteen and in college. His roommate, Brendon, would for a while stay up all night with him, try to talk him to sleep, sometimes read him stories. Brendon really loved stories. Both writing them and reading–– he was really good at it. And even though it hardly ever helped him sleep, Fleet never told the boy to stop, because he really liked listening. However, it had to end when Brendon started falling asleep in classes or took power naps during the day. Fleet then told the boy that he didn't need company every night. So, instead–– like the amazing human Brendon was, he got Fleet few audiobooks. 

Brendon was a great guy. Probably one of the best people Fleet had ever met, but after Fleet dropped out of college, due to health issues, and returned home; they lost contact. And now Brendon was probably dead. 

Fleet's insomania was back after a year and few months of peaceful nights. But he seemed to understand the reasons now. After all, it was hard to sleep peacefully when all of your friends were dying. First his uncle, then his parents, his little sister, then Winston––  and all these random people no one could save. He didn't know them, but he felt bad. At first he showed it, but now he was trying to hold it back. Hold everything back. No panic when they drove down the street and saw all the corpses. Maybe he'd someday get fully used to that sight. 

He woke up from his nap when he heard a noise. Faelynn. She was talking.. maybe yelling at someone–– he didn't know. He wasn't even sure if she was in danger when he threw himself out of the truck, the fully loaded revolver already in his hands. 

Noticing the blonde and the stranger, Fleet snuck up behind them, pointing the gun at the guy's head. 

"Who the fuck is that monkeyman?" he asked, furrowing brows at his friend over the stranger's shoulder.