take me to your planet.

That’s when you finally see her, standing waist deep in the middle of the river, her delicate hands clasped neatly in front of her. 

Your mother. 

She says your name ever so softly as you approach, your feet feeling heavier with each step you take. Her eyes are dull and lifeless, practically looking through you as you stop before her—a shell of the woman that raised you. 

“You know why we have to do this, don’t you, sweetheart?” Her voice is soothing and gentle as her hands reach up to cradle your face, brushing away the tears now freely spilling down your cheeks. 

You frantically shake your head as her familiar features start to blur. 

“Mom, please,” you plead, voice trembling as the hands holding you fall away and they move to settle on your shoulders instead. “It doesn't have to be like this.”  

“Oh my love,” she sighs, tone still utterly patient as she forces you down onto your knees and deeper into the frigid water. "You are unclean. You were given many chances to repent and you still chose to sin.” 

Her words settle like a stone in your gut, sharp and heavy. Flashes of pretty eyes and too soft lips bring you back to the night before and the weight of her hands on your shoulders presses down harder.   

“But I didn’t do anything wrong,” you grit out, bowing your head. 

“See? The apostate still won’t admit to her own wickedness.” His voice slices through the air then, carving into your skin like a blade and you shrink further in on yourself. “You leave us with no other choice.”

Your eyes flick back up to meet your mother’s gaze, lower lip wobbling as you softly plead for her to put an end to this but she just slowly shakes her head. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, eyes flickering with something close to regret before she finally shoves you beneath the surface. 

The water burns as it fills your lungs and you thrash violently against her firm grip, a surge of panic claws its way through your chest as darkness begins to shroud the edges of your vision. 

No, not again. Please not again.

Faintly, you hear your name over the rush of water, the sound distant and muffled like someone is calling out to you from the surface. 

But when you try to reach for them, another set of hands drags you deeper—holding you just out of reach. And god, you want to scream, to fight harder but your limbs feel too heavy as that all consuming dread begins to tighten its grip.

That’s when you hear it again—your name, only it sounds much closer than before.  

A large wave slams against the side of the boat, casting a cold mist across your face and you jerk away, your shoulder slamming against something solid and warm. 

Abby.

Your pulse stutters as the memory begins to fracture around you. The pressure on your shoulders vanishes on the wind and a rush of fresh air floods your lungs as you suck in a shuddering breath. Your mother, the river, none of it was real—it was just a memory. 

You’re still in the boat. You’re safe. 

But everything still feels too loud. The rush of the wind as it whips across your face, the waves crashing against the hull and the sound of your own heartbeat echoing in your ears. And for a moment, your mind still struggles to separate the memory from reality. 

Then you feel it—the warmth of Abby’s palm against the small of your back, her thigh flush against your own. Her touch grounds you, faster than you ever would’ve thought possible. And the realization makes your heart flutter erratically beneath your ribs, only it's not from panic this time, but something far more dangerous. 

“Hey,” Abby leans in then, her voice a low rasp against your ear. “Just breathe, we’re almost there.” 

Another wave crashes against the boat and you tense, gripping the edge of the seat to steady yourself and holding on so tightly that your fingers start to ache. Manny chooses that exact moment to glance over his shoulder at the two of you, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. 

But he says nothing, for which you’re grateful. 

Before long, the city of Bellevue—or rather what remains of it comes into view. A thick array of trees line the edges of the shoreline, concealing any easy vantage point into the city center. Manny kills the engine about twenty feet from shore, and you can feel the hairs on the back of your neck bristle. 

Being a full-time medic, the furthest you had ever ventured outside the stadium was the FOB, so you weren't as knowledgeable about how far the WLF’s territory reached. So as Manny began to quietly paddle the rest of the way to shore, your guard immediately goes up. 

“What exactly are we walking into here?” you ask softly, your fingers loosening their death grip on the seat to rest atop your holster. 

“We have soldiers that routinely patrol the city, it was so overrun with infected after the outbreak that FEDRA had it quarantined.” Abby explains, finally dropping her hand from where it rested against the small of your back. She leans forward then, setting her elbows on her knees as her eyes carefully scan the shoreline. 

“We’ve cleared it enough to be able to do supply runs without incident, but you can never be too careful.” Manny adds, but his words seem to lighten something in your chest. 

Infected were normally easier to deal with, they were predictable. 

It was people that you had to be wary of.  

The front of the boat scrapes against the rocky shore with a rough thud and your fingers instinctively tighten around your holster. Abby is the first one out of the boat, rising from her seat in one fluid motion. And you can't help but stare as she grips onto the edge of the hull, moving with the kind of easy confidence that you've always secretly envied. She lands on the rocks with a wet smack, her boots somehow managing to find purchase against the slick surface.

Manny quickly follows suit, shooting you a playful wink before hopping over the edge of the boat. You manage to stifle an eye roll as you clamber after them and step out onto the rocky shore. You keep your eyes trained on the rocks beneath your feet, careful not to take a wrong step and twist your ankle.

However, the closer you get to dry land, the faster you move, suddenly far too eager to put as much distance between yourself and the water as possible. So you don't notice the thick clump of seaweed that clings to the rocks lining the shore until it's too late—and your foot slips out from beneath you. Abby’s at your side in an instant, practically appearing out of thin air as she gently grips onto your elbow to steady you again. 

“You good?” she asks, helping to guide you across the last few steps. 

“Yeah,” you whisper, releasing a relieved breath once you boots touch solid ground. “All good.” But you can’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment when her touch falls away.

Something warm settles beneath your ribs as you catch the faintest hint of a smile on her lips as she turns and begins trudging toward the treeline. 

“I saw that,” Manny says under his breath as he passes you. 

"Saw what?" you sigh, exasperated. 

A familiar, teasing grin begins to tug at the corner of his mouth. "Nothing." But the bastard doesn't sound even remotely convincing.

"Manny," you hiss, eyes flicking over to Abby's retreating figure.

"¿Qué?" he asks, far too innocently and you narrow your eyes.

"Don't even start."

But instead of teasing you any further he just laughs, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze and continuing onward toward the treeline.

You release a small huff through your nose, closing your eyes as you tip your head back to allow the sun warm your face. You linger there for a moment longer, until the tightness in your chest begins to subside. But the faint call of your name draws your eyes back open.

Abby stands several paces ahead, past the thick line of trees. Sunlight filters through the canopy above, casting shadows along her freckled skin as she beckons you over, with Manny now at her other side. So you take one last steadying breath, adjust the strap of your pack and follow after them through the trees. 

 The sunshine doesn’t last, but it rarely ever does here. Dark storm clouds began to roll in the further you descended into the city center, taking the last of the day's warmth with it. The rain came down in heavy sheets, drenching the three of you in seconds. 

The outline of the decrepit hospital loomed in the distance, just a few miles ahead now. But it was clear with every shuddering breath you released, that it would be stupid to continue trudging through the storm. 

“Let’s take shelter for a bit, yeah?” Manny shouts as the rain continues to pelt down from the ever darkening sky. “This rain isn’t going to let up anytime soon.” 

You wrap your arms further around yourself, motioning toward an old music store just across the street. “What about there?”

The large storefront window was completely shattered, offering you an unobstructed view inside the small store. It was practically empty and only had one level, which seemed like the safest option to hunker down until the storm died down a bit. 

Abby nods stiffly, turning to walk toward the store without saying a word to either of you. Manny met your questioning gaze but merely shrugged before crossing the street to follow behind her. 

She'd been like this for most of the afternoon—withdrawn and quiet, suddenly distant in a way that made your chest feel tight. 

It had started in the woods. 

The three of you had been walking for a couple hours at that point, slowly making your way through the lush, overgrowth. Abby had kept a steady pace beside you while Manny had pulled ahead, only glancing back every so often to catch her guiding you over fallen log or steering you around a tangle of exposed roots. 

The silence that had fallen between you didn't feel nearly as awkward as it had that morning but anytime you tried to initiate a conversation, your nerves got the better of you and the words got caught in your throat. So you settled for stealing small glances at her whenever you thought she wasn't paying attention. 

It wasn't until you stopped for a short break that you really started to notice a change in her demeanor. 

The mid-afternoon sun had shone brightly overhead by the time the trees started to thin and the path opened up into a large clearing where a crumbling highway lay just beyond it. 

A soft breeze filtered through the trees, rustling the dead leaves at your feet as Abby continued forward and settled herself onto a large boulder, carefully shrugging off her pack to pull out an apple and her canteen. She seemed lost in her thoughts as you took a seat beside Manny on a fallen log and reached to grab a stale granola bar out of your own pack. 

“It’s sort of…peaceful here,” you murmured, taking a small bite as your eyes wandered around the clearing. “But I find it extremely odd that we haven’t run into any infected yet.”

“Like I told you earlier, amiga,” Manny playfully nudged your shoulder with his own. “Our crews don’t mess around.”

You hummed in agreement as your eyes slowly drifted back over to where Abby sat. Her brows were furrowed in concentration as she pulled a shiv from the inside of her boot and sliced into her apple. Juices from the overly ripe fruit dribbled down her fingers and you held back a small shudder when she had the audacity to suck them from her thumb. 

Images of her full lips, swollen and slick with your saliva flashed through your mind in an instant, your dream coming back to haunt you in the harsh afternoon light. Heat curled low in your belly as she bit into the apple slice, her lower lip jutting out ever so slightly as she chewed. 

God, was her mouth always this distracting? 

A large hand suddenly sliced through the air—mere inches from your face, immediately snapping you out of your daze. You stiffened, feeling a rush of heat creeping up the back of your neck at the realization that Manny had caught you gawking at her. Again. 

"Sorry, did you say something?" you stuttered.

"Ay dios mío, princesa," Manny practically purred, scooting closer to you on the log as your gaze fell, dropping to focus on the worn leather of your boots instead. "You've really got it bad, eh?" 

"Yeah," you hushed under your breath, unable to hide the sudden disdain in your voice. "Pretty pathetic, isn't it?"

His brows furrowed. "Well, I wouldn't say that," he murmured, his tone suddenly far more serious as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. "But it might be more mutual than you think." 

As much as you wanted to believe that, Abby's words from earlier kept repeating over and over in your head like some sort of cruel mantra. I'm never too busy to help a friend. A friend. All you'll ever be to her is a friend. 

As if Manny had sensed you starting to spiral, he took that opportunity to lean in closer, whispering something in your ear that had you gasping aloud and playfully shoving him away. It was clear he wasn't expect that kind of reaction from you, because he ended tumbling backwards off the log before he could steady himself and landed in a small heap on the ground. 

A surprised giggle burst from your throat as you stood, glancing back to find him playfully glaring up at you from where he was still sprawled in the dirt. But lighthearted energy of the afternoon seemed to disintegrate as a cluster of dark storm clouds passed overhead, blocking out the sun and your laughter instantly died in your throat. 

"We're losing daylight," Abby said suddenly, her tone sharp and clipped. "Let's keep moving." You turned to find her already back on her feet, jaw tensed but her expression completely unreadable. 

From that moment on, she'd barely uttered a word to either of you. 

Glass crunches under your boots as you step over the threshold and your eyes slowly survey the small store. Band posters litter the walls, their once glossy finishes now torn and faded. Vines crawl up to fill in the empty spaces beside them and thick patches of ferns spill past the entrance as if Mother Nature was finally claiming what was rightfully hers. 

You'd like to imagine what this place might have looked like in its prime, before the world had completely gone to shit. When the shelves lining the edges of the room were filled with hundreds of records and you could lose an entire afternoon leafing through them all, like you had nowhere else in the world to be. 

And you find yourself wishing for the simplicity of the old world more often than you'd ever care to admit.

Taking another step further into the space, you shake the rain from your sleeves and try to stave off the chill beginning to settle into your bones. Dust particles swirl through the air with each step you take, the smell of mildew and damp earth overpowering your senses.

But as you trudge toward the back of the store, the toe of your boot catches the edge of a discarded CD, sending it skittering across the warped floorboards. You mutter a soft curse under your breath as it slams into one of the shelves, causing the case to pop open from the impact. But upon closer inspection, you're surprised to find the disc inside is still intact. 

It was still somewhat of a rarity to find relics from the old world that weren't completely destroyed by time, or the elements. So you find yourself crossing the short distance to pick it up, carefully closing the cover before wiping away years worth of dust with the sleeve of your jacket. Your fingers instantly tighten around the cracked case, the plastic now worn and cloudy with age—but you’d recognize that cover anywhere. 

Selena’s Amor Prohibido.

Everything around you seems to fall away in an instant: the music store, the heavy patter of the rain, the tension in your shoulders. 

And suddenly you're eight years old again, back in that cramped studio apartment filled with your mother’s bright laughter and salty sea air. You’re sitting on your bed, clutching the worn album in your small hands and watching in awe as she spins and twirls barefoot around your shared space. She was glowing, carefree and happy in a way you’d seemingly forgotten she could be. 

Before he twisted her into someone cold and unrecognizable. 

“Come here, my little bird,” she says with a smile, her eyes crinkling around the corners as she reaches out a hand for you to take. 

The memory fractures in an instant as a roll of thunder cracks loudly overhead, bringing you back down to reality. But you're unable to stop the tears from blurring your vision as you grip onto the case so tightly that the plastic creaks beneath the pressure of your fingers. 

“Hey, you alright, chica?” Manny’s voice is soft, his concerned face coming into focus a moment later, and you quickly rub at your damp eyes. 

“Yeah,” you sniffle. “I’m good.”

He doesn’t seem convinced, but he doesn’t push.

“Whatcha got there?” He says instead, glancing down at the CD in your hands. 

“Oh it’s, um,” you clear your throat. “Just something my mom used to play a lot when I was a kid. I honestly never thought I’d find another copy of it.” 

When the Santa Barbara QZ fell, you were forced to leave behind everything that ever mattered to you—including that happy, carefree version of your mother. 

“Well, I see you both have great taste, cariño.” He grins, lightly nudging you with his hip. “Anything for Selena’s, eh?” 

The corner of your mouth pulls up in a small smile, but it’s his off-key rendition of Bidi Bidi Bom Bom that pulls a genuine laugh from your throat. 

Across the store, Abby freezes, her fingers tightening on the straps of her pack. The way you just laughed at whatever Manny just said has her stomach twisting with something close to indignation—because it was a real laugh, one that she’s never heard directed at her before.  

Trust me, Abs, she likes you. Manny had whispered to her in the mess hall just a few hours earlier and she hated that she let herself believe it for even a second. That she'd be so easily convinced that her feelings weren't completely one-sided, or that the way she caught you looking at her sometimes actually meant something. 

But now she finds herself second guessing every interaction she's ever had with you, because despite Manny's insistence, Abby still wasn't totally sure if you even liked girls. She's never seen you with anyone before, and it's not exactly something she could just bring up in casual conversation. 

Oh yeah, patrol was absolutely brutal today…by the way, do you like pussy? Just curious. 

Because that would go over well. 

Abby releases a harsh breath through her nose as she forces herself to look away, clenching her jaw so tight that her teeth start to ache. It's absolutely ridiculous for her to feel jealous—she knows that, but nevertheless, she can't stop those stubborn insecurities from bubbling to the surface.

It had been slowly brewing all day, settling beneath her skin like a parasite, a lingering resentment that began to resurface whenever Manny was on the receiving end of your affection. But those feelings had started to wane when you opened up to her on the drive over, admitting to a fear that even Manny didn't seem to know about. And the way her touch seemed to pull you out of the catatonic state you'd slipped into once the boat left the shore. 

Only for that resentment to rear its ugly head hours later, the moment she saw Manny wrap an arm around your shoulders, tucking you against him. But it was the way you relaxed into the embrace, like you belonged there—that seemed to shatter something inside her.

And while she hated to admit it, Abby couldn’t exactly blame you for being drawn to someone like Manny. Under all that cocky bravado, he was incredibly thoughtful and kind, gentle in ways she never thought she could be again. Manny was easy to be around, easy to love. 

Maybe that was just it, the reason why you always treated her so differently than everyone else, why you avoided conversations and constantly kept your distance. You saw her darkness, how easily cruel she could be, how unloveable she was. And god, the way you're looking at him right now, all soft edges and subtle mirth made her physically ill—because all she's ever wanted is for you to look at her that way. 

Even though she knows she doesn't deserve it.

This is exactly why she didn’t let herself get attached to people, because feelings were a distraction, they were dangerous. She had learned that the hard way, many years ago. So Abby did what she always does, she tried to push the feelings down—to bury them and normally it would've worked. She could move on without causing herself any heartache in the process. 

But for reasons that she can't seem to name, she just couldn't bring herself to do it with you. And she's kicking herself for it now. 

“If you two are done flirting,” she snaps, eyes narrowing as she glances over her shoulder at the two of you. “Can we go?” Abby doesn't give either of you a chance to respond before she's stalking back outside. 

The remaining trek to the hospital while short, was quiet and unbearably tense. Flashes of lightning burst across the darkened sky, casting harsh shadows across the cracked pavement with every step Abby took. The rain felt cool against her overly flushed cheeks, but it did little to extinguish the flames of resentment still burning beneath her skin.

Abby hadn't spoken to you, or even glanced your way since you left the music store. She just couldn't bring herself to, because the image of you, laughing and smiling up at him, all starry-eyed, had been playing on a constant loop in her head ever since. She really had wanted to let it go, to act like she wasn't bothered by seeing you with someone else, but her mask of indifference has slipped too far to be put back into place now. 

But the worst part, was that despite your reluctance to even speak to her most days, you'd somehow still managed to wedge yourself in the space between her ribs and made a home there. 

So, the closer the three of you got to the hospital, the faster she started to move, suddenly desperate to put some distance between herself and the awkward tension she'd created. But Abby had barely noticed just how far ahead she'd gotten until she was already climbing the crumbling stairs to the main entrance. 

The pair of automatic doors had been shattered years ago, leaving the walkway littered with broken glass and the floor stained with pools of old, dried blood—a harsh reminder of outbreak day. The sight alone should have been enough to bring her back into herself, to the job she should've been focused on. But her mind was still miles away, back in that music store, lamenting over the way you smiled at him. 

"Abs!" Manny calls, the sound of his boots slapping against the wet pavement finally managing to snap her out of it. "Hang on a sec!" 

And despite her initial reluctance, she waits but she still can't bear to look at either of you as you follow her through the entrance and into what used to be the hospital's main lobby. A heavy, putrid odor hangs in the air, clinging to the back of her throat and she swallows back a gag. 

Then Manny is calling her name again, softer this time. 

"What is it, Manny?" She mutters, turning back toward him and sparing you a sideways glance as you move past her and further into the room—eyes wide and alert. 

"Can we talk?" he asks, a little out of breath as he reaches to rest a hand on her shoulder. "Amigo a amiga?"

Abby instantly shrugs off his touch. "About what?" 

Manny's eyes flicker briefly over to you, his brow raising as if the answer should be obvious. Abby's jaw tenses before she reaches out, roughly grabbing the lapel of his jacket to tug him over toward the dilapidated nurse's station and away from you. 

"Go on then," she hisses, voice low as she releases him to cross her arms over her chest. "Spit it out."

Manny turns and leans against the counter, still casual as ever. "What's with the attitude, chica?" 

Abby can't help but roll her eyes. "Seriously, Manny? You even have to ask?"

Her gaze wanders over his shoulder, only to find you already looking at her. Your eyes lock with hers and for a split second Abby swears she sees a flicker of hurt flash through them before you quickly turn away. 

"So, you are jealous," he muses, suddenly sounding far too upbeat for her liking. 

"And somehow that's amusing to you?" she quips, eyes focusing back on him. 

Manny smirks. "Sí, un poco." 

Annoyance flairs in her chest. "Well, that makes one of us." 

Now it's Manny's turn to roll his eyes. "Oh come on, amiga, lighten up will ya?" 

"Lighten up?" She releases a humorless laugh. "That's rich coming from you." 

"Abby," Manny sighs, his expression morphing into something far more serious. "Estás siendo ridícula." 

Abby scoffs, her fingers curling into fists. "Oh, I'm the one being ridiculous? Really?" 

"¡Sí, muy ridícula!" He reiterates, shrugging off the counter. "For fuck sakes, Abs, she doesn't even like men—"

A sharp crack echoes down the hall and they both freeze. A feeling of dread settles in the pit of her stomach as she glances back over Manny's shoulder only to discover that you're not in the lobby anymore. But it's the ear piercing scream of her own name that sends ice straight through her veins and Abby doesn't think—she moves, drawing her gun as she races down the dark corridor, toward the sound of your voice. 

What the fuck did you just get yourself into?