Jimmy Bravo

 Another surprised yelp leaves Kris’s lips as a cold wave soon washes over the both of them leaving them completely soaked. The cold water has Kris all but climbing onto Jimmy’s lap. Her legs straddling his hips, her arms pulling him in close in a feeble attempt to stay warm and get away from the water. Soon, however, the waves recede and Kris pulls back from him slightly just so she can take another good look at his face. A calloused hand moves to cradle his cheek, while her other hand settles on his chest just above his heart. 

Again, this all feels so real and the happiness swelling in her chest truly makes it feel like it’s about to burst, but there’s still the smallest sliver of doubt worming at the edges of her mind. That any second she’ll wake up and all she’ll be left with is the painfully familiar empty space where she wished he was instead. That she would wake up, she'd still be on the road and there would still be monsters at her doorstep.

But no. She’s touching his face, tracing a few lines that weren’t there the last time she she saw him, her thumb running against his lower lip while beneath her other hand she can feel the very real hammering of his heart.  He's still here. “God, it’s really you…” she whispers, pressing her forehead to his. “You’re really here…” 

His mood oscillates with hers, grasping at happiness while unable to shake the undercurrent of despair and loss that had made itself a constant companion. He feels the same messy emotions he imagines she is, relief mixed with disbelief, happiness tempered by dread, because nothing good ever stayed. He wants to grasp onto whatever shared joy they can with both hands, let himself remember what it feels like to mean it when he laughs, but it falters beneath her sincerity.

His arms shift to wrap around her, heels digging into the sand as he pushes himself into a sitting position, even as he holds her in place. Dragging her closer against his chest as his head tips up to meet her gaze, but it's hard to summon the right words, or even any words at all. A huff of laughter escaping him first, closing his eyes when the next wave rolls in and over them, washing the sand from his back.

When he opens his eyes she's still there, and his smile softens beneath the reality of that simple fact. "God I missed you." The words sound weak, but nothing else seems worth saying. "Every day. Hope you know that."

 The two of them with glowing red hands and strength beyond comprehension would always be on the front lines fighting whatever monster the world threw their way. She doesn’t like that there’s more marks now because she doesn’t like the idea of Jimmy being out there in the wastes hurt without her or Samson or even Bobby there to help. But the most she can do now is be thankful that he’s here now where she can make note of the newer ones and commit them to memory with her hands and lips with what time they had together now. 

The cold water is enough to send a shiver up her spine and has goosebumps appearing on her skin in. And despite her best efforts at rolling up her jeans, one of her pants legs has already come undone and become completely soaked by the water. She’s about to pull up her pant leg when Jimmy charges at her and kisses her before running away. 

“Come back here!” she calls out as he runs from her. Kris bends over and slaps her hand hard against the surface of the ocean, trying to splash him. Although when it barely reaches him, Kris just opts to kick her already soaked leg through the water, sending a wave towards Jimmy before running at him her arms wrapping around his waist, fighting the urge to tackle him into the shallows. 

"I see how it is." But if he plans on returning the favor, she's colliding with his chest before he's got his hand fully away from his eyes. Under other circumstances it might not be enough to take him down, even if she's always been the same as him. Inhumanly strong now, and if Lydia likes to wax poetic about what it means, about history and legends and old heroes, the only thing it's ever meant to him is that he can take all those hits, those wounds and those scars, and keep ticking. Even if it wasn't always a mercy.

It's hard not to be grateful for it now. That he never took it a step too far, that he's lived long enough for this moment, no matter what follows. She might have just as much painful history etched into her skin now, scars he can't name the source of, but now there's hope, that he'll have the chance to ask. Even if it'll hurt, knowing he wasn't there with her, knowing maybe they could've kept each other a little bit safer. There's no going back now, but for now the future seems like a brighter thing.

He’s been back in her life for a less than day and it’s alarming how quickly Kris finds herself acting in a way she hasn’t behaved in nearly a decade. Not even, Jack, Rose, Noah, or Mike could make Kris laugh this hard try as they might during game night. It’s just a reminder of just how it was whenever she was with him.

Just like back them, the smiles, the laughter, her honesty just came so easyily with him. She couldn’t fight it even if she tried. Despite the rain and despite how shit the world had become, the world would admittedly get brighter whenever Jimmy was around. And despite the time and distance that had grown between the two of them, it was proving to still be true. 

There’s a moment of relief when Jimmy lets her feet down on the wet sand followed by more laughter as his lips rain down kisses on her before he’s sitting. Kris watches as he tugs his jacket off and goes for his boots and she follows suit. She quickly detaches the sword from hip and stabs it into the sand, before she’s taking off her boots, socks jacket, shirt, and rolling up her jeans. There’s a part of Kris that is aware that she’s showing off a plethora of new scars to him, but she doesn’t pay that any mind as she starts for the water. “C’mon!” she calls as she steps into the water. 

She's rolling up her jeans by the time he's tugging his shirt off, and if there's a sliver of fear what she'll think when she sees every new scar etched on his frame, it's a duller thing than it was when he first walked through the gates. Because that was what they did, wasn't it? Kiss each other's scars, warm the spaces in between. And as his gaze takes in every new mark left on her skin, it's all he wants to do. Soothe them away the best that he can, replace every painful memory with his hands instead.

Jimmy's just finishing rolling his pants up as she calls out to him, and he doesn't hesitate to push himself upright and chase after her. That first step into wet sand cold against the bottom of his feet, but it's hard to mind any of it. Not when he's chasing after Kris, breathing in saltwater and feeling the waves as they rush up on the shore. Crashing up over his shins, soaking through the bottom of his jeans, despite his best intentions, and if it's all foolish he feels better than he has in years.

His arm wraps around her when he catches up to her, pulling her tight against his frame and an obnoxious wet kiss pressed against the side of her face. "Tag," he tells her. "You're it." Before he's releasing her just as quickly, taking a few steps back and grinning at her in an easy invitation.

Jimmy, tilts his head back and picks her up off her feet, but Kris isn’t done with him yet. Through a fit of giggles, tears, and smiles, she cranes her head and peppers his cheeks and jaw with furious quick kisses. Her laughter only seems to grow at the feeling of his rough stubble scratching at her lips and face. 

His laugh, his smile, him calling her ‘sweetheart.’ God how she missed him so fucking much, it makes her heart fucking ache in that moment. God, the sound of her own laughter sounded so foreign. Hell, even smiling as much as she was right now was making her cheeks hurt. If anyone else back at the settlement could see her now, they probably would think she was a completely different person.

“Oh, you son of a bitch, you wouldn’t dare…!” Kris scoffs, her grip tightening on his shoulders. If he was going to toss her in the drink, she was going to do everything in her power to drag him down with her.

Because right now she's laughing too, and he'd half forgotten that sound. He remembered they used to be good together, but the details had become faded and blurry, and there hadn't been nearly enough of them. They snap back into sharp clarity, and if he remembers holding each other in empty hotel rooms, he remembers how good he was at making her smile too.

"I wouldn't dare, huh?" His grin just gets brighter before he crushes his mouth against hers in a quick, messy kiss, arms never loosening around her frame. "Just sounds like a challenge to me."

It’s been so long that this kiss, with Kris’s nerves, it reminds her an awful lot like their first one. The one that happened on the tail end of a tragedy and the two were seeking out comfort in the form of shared cigarettes and each other for the briefest of moments in the back of an old mattress store. The thought and the kiss itself is enough to make Kris’s heart ache as reminders of all the days that passed where he wasn't there fill her mind. The desperation to fill that void has Kris moving.

However, everything in her screams “don’t turn around.” Because every time she’s had this dream, every time she turns around, she would wake up, Jimmy would be gone, and Kris would be alone with the void where she wished he would be instead. And maybe it’s foolishness, but despite her fears, Kris finds her bravery, steels herself, parts from his lips, and turns around to face him.  

Her eyes remain closed for a moment as she all but braces for the dream to come to an end. But when opens her eyes and sees that Jimmy is still there, looking down at her a strangled sob of joy escapes her throat before she suddenly pulls him into a desperate kiss, her arms wrapping around him to pull him impossibly close. Maybe he’ll change his mind. Maybe he’ll decide in the end that she’s too far gone and too broken of a thing to continue to be with. But for now, he’s here, he’s hers, and she’s not letting him go. Not again.

Then she's erasing the thoughts just as thoroughly, a noise escaping her before her mouth is crashing against his. And it makes it harder to think it's a dream when he can feel her hands grasping him so tightly, dragging him closer, and he goes easily. Arms around her, pulling her frame tightly against his, lips parting beneath hers.

Jimmy thinks he' be happy to stay there, until the sun set behind them, until he forgot everything but the taste of her mouth and the feel of her cheek as he cradles her head in his hand. If there's more to say, he can't remember it now, if there are questions he should ask before throwing himself headfirst into her life, they escape him. Instead there's something warmer settling in his chest, something like hope, closer to happiness, and he finally breaks away when a warm laugh escapes him.

This dream is more elaborate than the others though. In most of her dreams they’re much younger, smiles, jokes and laughter come easier, their bodies aren’t scarred and broken things, their hearts are still in tact, and she doesn’t normally feel as raw as she does now. 

Jimmy’s arms tighten around her waist and she’s grateful for it. Not just for the closeness and contact, but because she’s afraid that any moment now she’ll fall apart. That he’s the only thing holding her together as the weight and realization of just how much she missed him and how hurt she really is comes crashing down on her. 

Tears that were prickling at the corner of her eyes flow freely when Jimmy’s calloused fingers trace her jaw and tilt her head towards him. In that moment, the distant sound of crashing of waves is drowned out by her own thundering heartbeat. He tells her to tell him if this isn’t okay, so Kris says nothing. Because this is more than okay. It’s more than she could’ve hope or dreamed for. So she just wordlessly kisses him back, hoping that the kiss could convey everything she wanted to say, but couldn’t. 

And it's the same double edged sword as standing here at all, relief and agony all at once. Memories that seem so much brighter, at least when they were together. Playful kisses and laughter shared between their lips. There's something quietly mournful about the way she kisses him now, the slow drag of lips, even as he can feel the wetness on her skin. He shifts his hand to cup her face, thumb dragging across her cheek like he can chase them away, even if he can only feel the same.

He thinks that more than anything is why he could never forget about her, not when he thinks she saw him so clearly, and he liked to believe the same. He swore he was fine just as often as she swore she was alive and still breathing, both of them burying heartache and horror, with weapons in their hands and scars on their skin.

If his own eyes feel raw and tired, he just lets them close, lets himself forget everything except the fact that he's got Kris back in his arms. And if it hurts just how long it's been, how much time they lost and how little he thinks he resembles the man she might have loved once, he's selfish enough that he doesn't let go. He still holds her tightly, he still thinks close isn't close enough.

That seemingly endless expanse of ocean, the sound of the crashing waves, the breeze brushing against her face, the clouds speckling the now pink and orange sky. All of it makes it seem like the horrors beyond the walls so far away in comparison. Kris is contemplating taking a step towards the water when she suddenly feels Jimmy’s hand in her before tugging her into an embrace. 

Kris offers no resistance and follows him, eyes closing, a sigh of relief escaping her lips. With his arms wrapped around her, it all comes crashing down on her in an instant just how tired the years have made her and how devoid of hope she’s been.

“I didn’t think I’d make it either,” she admits. It’s probably the most honest she’s been in years. That even though out on the road her mantra to everyone in what was left of their group is ‘we push forward’ and to not give up, their leader had long since given up hope on any sort of future for any of them or her.

“This is real, right…?” she asks quietly, her voice trembling as she clings desperately onto his arms and leans into his embrace. “You’re actually here and I’m not gonna wake up and realize this is all in my head again, right? Because I've had this dream before...” 

A few years ago he might've laughed, had a better joke on his tongue, but the road getting here has been too painful, and he can only imagine she's the same. Swearing it could rain all the time before he was gone from her life, like he'd barely ever existed. Time stolen from them before they could figure out what life could look for the two of them, and he doesn't blame her for asking. Maybe that's all he'd been reduced to, just a fleeting dream, some ghost just out of reach. It barely feels real to him either.

"Really fuckin' hope so," he says. But if words seem like poor evidence, his hands might offer better proof, arms tightening around her when he feels the shaky grasp she has on his arm.

If there are a thousand things they still haven't talked about, questions he still hasn't asked, he's still pulling her closer in the next moment. Fingers catching her jaw and tilting her head towards him. Mouth brushing the corner of her lips before he breathes out the words. "Tell me if this ain't okay."

Kris is aware that this, having his arms wrapped around her, the feeling of his body against hers, walking side by side with no agenda, no monsters nipping at their heels, no demons threatening to rip everything apart at the moment, could be all temporary. After all, that was the way things worked out of Kris since she woke up when the world ended. Sorrow and misery, then brief fleeting moments of happiness only to be followed by the inevitable seemingly never ending rainstorm that would come soon afterwards. But if that’s the case, then it has Kris clinging to this moment right now with desperation. It could be willful ignorance and delusion on her part, but right now she didn’t give a damn. Not when Jimmy’s actually beside her, arm wrapped around her shoulders.

Kris nods and with a gentle tug, leads him down the road that will lead the two of them to a quiet expanse of beach. It doesn’t take long for the distant sound of crashing waves to get louder. “Oh no, I’m terrible at that shit. Most times I should stick to being score keeper.” She says with a quiet chuckle before she approaches a sturdy metal gate. With great reluctance Kris steps away from Jimmy and opens the gate, stepping to the side once it’s open for him. "Watch your step, the stairs are kinda steep," she explains before she takes the lead, leading Jimmy down the steep staircase built into the what was basically a cliffside down to the small, but empty expanse and shore line below.

"We'll be terrible together then." He smiles over at her, fingers pressing into her shoulder to keep her that much closer. It's foreign now, to have another person this close to him in a way that isn't violent, but it makes it that much more precious. So much that he doesn't know if he can let her go again, forcing himself to relax his grip so that she can lead him down towards the ocean.

He takes the steps carefully, following her lead, and he can't explain why his heart's hammering louder in his chest with every step forward. His boots sink into the sand, crunching underneath his feet as he makes his way towards the ocean. He stops right at the edge, earth stained a darker shade from the rolling waves, and a for a moment it's enough. To stand here, listening to the quiet crash, and he can feel all of it tumbling after. Every second since he's left New York, every scar he's earned, every person he's left behind. An endless list of demons and monsters and horrors, but none of them are present here.

He reaches for her then, grasping for her hand before he's tugging Kris around in front of him. Arms curving around her waist, holding her tightly, the warmth of her in his arms more than he's dared hope for in years. It has his eyes closing, clinging to this moment as his head bumps against the side of hers.

"Didn't think I'd ever make it this far," he says quietly. And he wants to follow it up with something brighter, that he's here now, that he missed her and he's happy to see her, but it all feels stuck in his throat.

Rose and Noah were Kris’s most obvious weak spot, anyone with eyes could see that, and there have been been plenty of people in the past that tried to take advantage of that. Unfortunately for all of them, Kris was quick with her sword and mercy would be in short supply if Rose and or Noah were in danger. “You ready to be Uncle Jimmy?” Kris muses, smiling at the thought as her other free hand pulls the arm Jimmy has around her shoulders a bit closer. The hand on his waist tightens ever so slightly. 

“Yeah? If you want we can make a quick detour if you want. Unfortunately, my place isn’t beachfront property,” she offers, mentally already replanning their route. It's not too bad a of a detour and admittedly it's been a while since Kris herself actually walked on the beach; her usual haunt being the exterior walls.

“Okay so, lots of board games, sometimes Charades or Pictionary, someone actually finished making this huge Jenga set out of scrap wood and Mike of course snatched that up. Things can get pretty heated.” Mike was better around people and didn't do well alone after everything he went through. Game night was just another way he tried to keep them all together instead of splintering off on their own once they got settled inside the walls. Kris was initially reluctant to join, but Noah’s insistence on her presence roped her into the weekly shenanigans. 

"Uncle Jimmy," he repeats, as if he has to consider the thought for long. Hand at her shoulder pulling her in a little tighter, and if it means they can't manage more than a slow pace forward, he's alright with that. "Got a nice ring to it anyway."

He doesn't mention the problem with that, the thought living in the back of his mind that he doesn't know if he's staying. Every second that passes in her presence, in this place, makes him want to promise more and more that he's done. Done following Lydia, done wandering the desiccated ruins of a country that doesn't exist anymore. Done following a promise he made to a man he might never see again, when there's so much in front of him that he wants to hold onto with both hands.

It makes his answer and the smile on his face both quiet, sincere things. "I'd love that." Though it breaks apart in the next moment, snorting out a laugh at her description of game night. It sounds so foreign now, even if he thinks it's the kind of thing Bobby would adore. And maybe it's just as true he's the one thing Lydia could still offer him to keep him moving forward, but he decides not to dwell on it anymore tonight. "Sure. Why not? Give ya somethin' else to kick my ass at."

As she watches the trio walk off, Kris can’t help but worry. Sure, worrying about Rose and Noah was all but standard to Kris, but she can’t help but wonder if Lydia will be okay with them. Kris knows in her heart Lydia wouldn’t hurt either of them, but what if she said something that Rose or Noah weren’t prepared to hear?

Everything was good now, but Kris can’t shake the feeling like they’re on some sort of countdown. That it’s only a matter of time before the other shoe drops and the rain comes again, harder and worse than ever before. Nothing good stayed forever. That’s just the way this world worked. Her group’s nearly year long stay at the settlement was the longest it’s ever been good and Jimmy showing up is without a doubt the best thing that’s happened to Kris in an eternity… So did that mean something absolutely devastating was waiting in the wings to balance out the scales? It’s a thought that makes her blood run cold, as she watches them walk off. 

She turns her attention to Jimmy and nods, opting to push her thoughts to the back of her mind. If the rain was going to come, then fine…  just let her have this. 

“C’mon,” Kris smiles softly. She takes his hand in hers for a moment before pulling him in, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and slipping her own hand around his waist. “It’s a bit of a walk, but I can show you what’s around before we get back to my place.” she says as she starts to walk. “I’m gonna warn you because already see the gears turning in his head…Mike’s definitely gonna try to rope you into game night.” 

It relieves some of his hesitation when she has so much less of it, pulling his arm around her shoulder and her fingers pressing against his side. It's a wild oscillation between that sense of familiarity he feels with her, arm draping itself easily around her, and fear that's been an even closer companion. To some extent it still hasn't sunk in that he's really standing here, or that it's really going this well.

A quiet, giddy rush follows the invitation, lips pressing together in a smile, and if there's no expectation placed on the words, it's the casual way she says it. Her place, because she has one, a home and a life when so much else has been stripped away, and if she wants him to be any part of that, he'll take whatever she wants to give him. "Fine with me, sweetheart. I'll tell you, I've been dreamin' of seein' the ocean."

It still feels odd to settle into a pace that's so easy and casual. Nowhere he has to run to, no monsters on his heels or lives at stake. Just the air growing cooler, the smell of saltwater in the air, and it's true enough that the only hope he'd managed to keep alive was that he might see the ocean before he died. It seemed the only one really attainable. "Yea? What's game night look like?"

Kris hangs back for a second with Rose and watches as he and Jack fight over the window, trying to peer inside and get their attention. Beside Rose, Noah, clings to her hand, unsure of the sudden scene that Mike and Jack have inadvertently stirred up. “Okay, okay you two. Enough. They’ll come out when they’re ready,” Kris chides as she pulls her boys away from the window, forcing them to wait patiently. “You’re freaking out Noah. Stop it.” 

They remain calm for all of 15 minutes, but once everyone's outside, all bets are off. It’s a flurry of "hello"s, hugs, and “I can’t believe you’re alive”s until Kris steps in and tells them to ease up, worried that everyone might be crowding Lydia and to at least make room for Rose and Noah whose curiously starting to make his way over. Kris had her moment, so she happily steps aside, letting the conversation go whichever way it needs to for however long it needs to. 

When the excitement finally subsides and the groups part way Kris steps forward towards Jimmy with a sheepish smile, “Sorry, I couldn’t keep you to myself. I had to tell the others. I think they would kill me if I didn’t tell them.” 

Just one, and he doesn't know if it's a fair thing to ask, but he does all the same. "Ya have any problems with one of mine, let me know, yea? I'll take care of it."

What he doesn't have answers for is whether they're staying short term or long term. He doesn't know if it's a question he can answer by himself anymore, a brief glance out the window, but he has to bite back a laugh at the faces peering in at him. And if he looks briefly to Lydia for an answer, she doesn't offer one up.

It's almost overwhelming when they do step outside, in every sense of the word. Too much to catch up on, and something like relief that feels bigger than what he knows what to do with. If he'd stopped hoping for anything a long time ago, he hadn't realized just how dead and buried those hopes were. Enough that it feels almost painful, something aching in his chest when he's abandoned any thoughts of a reunion. It may be bittersweet, his brother absent from familiar faces, but it's hard not to appreciate what they get.

Still, he's glad when they splinter off, Lydia squeezing his arm before she's walking off with Rose and Noah, and he can only wonder what she might have to say. They might wear the same marks, but there's still so much humanity still in the darker haired woman, and he wonders if that has to do with the boy that's so much taller than he remembers.

She woke up at the end of the world with no memory and then the world proceeded to temper her until she was nothing but hardened steel. Until she became a walking weapon. And what a good weapon she had become. But Kris as a person? She might as well be a ghost. Just one look at her and one can tell she’s tired and hollowed out. Would Jimmy even want what was left? 

It’s a sobering thought, but truthfully Kris wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t want what little was left of her. Hell, most days when she looked in the mirror she barely recognized herself and what little she did recognize she didn’t exactly like. He might change his mind, but for the time being Kris is doing what she can to focus on the happiness of what could only be described as a miracle of a reunion. 

Kris can’t help it, but her jaw drops at the question before a smile breaks across her face. “I can’t believe…” she mutters under her breath, shaking her head in disbelief. “You know what? Come find me after we get you and your group settled in and I’ll see what I can do.” she says, shooting him a playful little wink. If any other man had asked her to make them a sandwich, they would not be long for this world. But it’s an old promise between the two of them that they made when the rain seemed unending. And Kris wasn’t one to break promises. Especially not this one.

"Who wouldn't want you?" It's not quite an answer, when he thinks there's plenty they still need to talk about, but he'd like to think it says enough. Hand settling momentarily against her cheek, just to steal one more moment, because he thinks that's always been more accurate. Last he knew, the list of people Kris let close was a short one, and he can't imagine that much has changed. The fact that he'd ever been on it was a fact he cherished, even if he'd never really had the words.

His smile widens at her reaction just as much as her answer, nodding his head in reply. "Always did know the way to my heart." And if it's a small, stupid thing, it had never really been a turkey club that he missed. It was a singular stand-in for everything else that got lost along the way, and he think that much is still true.

There's another point made underneath it that has a small sigh escaping him, aware that they're both still on the clock, as it were. A search finishing up and people he's supposed to be taking care of. Still, he can't help stealing one last piece of affection, head tipping close and lips pressing against her temple before he pulls away all together. "Consider it a date."

 Perhaps after Jimmy left, what little was left of her heart was too broken to even think about moving on and just left it at that. Beyond that, there was simply a large part of Kris that just didn’t want anyone else. And even though they’re holding onto each other now, who's to say that there was someone else in Jimmy’s life now. That slow realization has her loosening the grip she has on him and turning her gaze towards the convoy before her. 

On some level, Kris feels that Jimmy is lucky that at least he had Lydia with him telling him that the others were alive. Even if it was a lie, Kris would’ve clung to the lie because it would make the journey just a little bit easier. Lord knows how much she struggled without any sort of answers until she settled into the silence acceptance that they were all probably dead. 

“I mean… kind of hard not to believe her now. You’re here. I’m here. Some of the others are here.” Kris says, "It's gotta mean something and she's telling the truth..."

He just can't help but relate to the words, can't help but think there's not enough left of him to offer to anyone, even if he'd wanted to. And he hadn't wanted to, two different women over the last six years who'd tried to kindle something there, but even as time crawled closer to that decade mark, he'd still been holding on too tightly to the past. Sometimes he thought that was stupid of him, most of the time he thought it was better for everyone involved when he felt like a man just marching slowly towards his own grave.

He feels Kris pull away despite her answer, and reluctantly he does the same. Feet shifting, hands pulling away and sliding them into his pockets instead as he lets his gaze wander back over his small convoy.

"Yeah. Guess that's true." He offers up a faint smile, but he keeps his mouth shut on anything else that might come out of it. Because the happiness of this moment is something he'd like to hold onto, when despair has been a closer companion than anyone else in years. The truth is that he'll believe it when he sees it, when the woman he followed across the country can tell him just where he has to go to find his brother and his best friend, but seeing Kris now, that feels like a less certain future.

Did Lydia lead them here to stay? Does he have it in him to follow her any farther if she didn't? There's a cold, ugly fear settling in, that she only guided them here because something bad was on it's way, but it's a terror he keeps to himself.

"Gotta ask sweetheart, and this is important." He tilts his head to catch her eye, like it'll convey the sincerity of it. "With everything ya folks got here... think I could get a sandwich?"

“And yeah, diaper phase is over and done now. Noah can go to the bathroom all on his own and has actually been going to school. Or what counts as school around here,” she explains as her eyes return to the convoy and the welcoming committee, searching for any more familiar faces amongst the crowd. 

At the mention of Samson and Bobby, Kris’s smile fades. “Yeah, we got split up pretty early on,” Kris explains, unable to fight the bitterness in her voice because there was still a large part of her that blamed herself for the group’s accidental violent split. “There was a big attack and a horde. It all happened to so fast and before I know it I have one half of the group, Samson’s got the other and Bobby’s with him. We tried to double back and find them, but…. we haven’t seen them since.” 

It’s not fair that somewhere down the line, Kris had written a large lot of the original group under “probably dead”, but now that Jimmy standing here in front of her, alive and breathing; maybe there’s hope for them yet. 

"School? Damn. What else ya got here? Got a place? Dog? Husband?" The last one he says as much like a joke as the others, but it doesn't do much to ease the hold he's got around her waist. He doesn't know if he can let go until she tells him to, despite the hustle still happening in front of them. Watching strangers root through his truck, watching Kai doing his very best to keep his arms crossed across his chest instead of dragging people away from his car.

It's objectively the better answer when she responds, one that leaves room for hope when there's no bodies to bury. Jim just hasn't been in the habit of hoping for anything for a long time, and it's hard not to wonder if Kris isn't the same. Even if they hadn't shared enough quite moments, wishing it would just stop raining for a little while, he can't picture the kind of person that can still cling to that kind of faith without proof. It's why he never could buy into the idea of god either.

"Lydia keeps promising they're still alive. Sometimes I wonder if she ain't just tellin' me what I need to hear." And it is a need, not just a want, something he's sure the blonde woman is fully aware of, because that has nothing to do with foresight. Just the last seven years spent in each other's company, and he can't imagine she doesn't know that sometimes the only thing he hopes for is for all of this to just be over.

"But hey, she promised me you were alive too. So maybe there's somethin' to it."

Even with her own fading memories of the woman she met at the beginning of all of this, Lydia still looks like a ghost of her former self, more so than anyone that’s managed to live at the end of the world this long. If she looked distant before, she looks like she’s worlds away now and she wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t remember Kris. There were other things occupying that mind of hers and Kris knew that.  Lydia knew things far beyond Kris’s comprehension, of where she and others needed to be, at what time, or when disaster would strike. But despite that understanding, Kris can’t fight the bitter taste in her mouth that forms when she sees her because…. She’s the reason why Jimmy left in the first place.

She’d never outright admit it, but there was always a part of her that was resentful. A part of her that wondered why of all people in the group to be taken away, why it had to be Jimmy? Kris barely had a thing to call her own at the end of the world and already lost so much, and just when she thought she had something, he was taken away in an instant. 

“Yeah, oh my god. It’s so good to see you too,” she says, relief coloring every word that leaves her mouth. “We just… kept on with the original plan of California. Eventually, down the line we started hearing rumors about some sort of safe haven near the coast. The first couple were duds. We fought a lot of crazy cults but the last one….It stuck. Me, Jack, Rose, Noah, that Mike kid and a couple handful of others are here and we’re coming up on being here for about… one year now? We got really fucking lucky.” 

"Jack's gotta be a whole ass adult now, yea?" In his memories he's still so much shorter, too young and too scared, and he can't imagine what he looks like now. "And Noah? Shit, guess Rose won't be needin' my help with diapers anymore."

His hold on her tightens a little, because he's glad to hear they're alive and thriving, happier still to know that Kris hadn't been alone out there. But he can't help the regret that follows, two names conspicuously absent. His gaze still moves across the armed folks going through his convoy, but none of them look familiar. It isn't surprising, but it still forces him to ask the question.

"Sam and Bobby, they're not..." He can't get himself to finish it either way, can't get himself to suggest the words. Dead. Despite Lydia's promises, because as much as she's always been a prophet, even she's said she doesn't know everything. He's just done his best to believe in it, and if there should be hope offered by Kris standing next to him, there's a growing fear that she's about to tell him differently.

So he volunteers the better option first, even if it still means he might never get to see his brother again. "You get separated?"

Kris should be doing her part and inspecting the cars and their passengers, but she can’t be bothered right now. And surely everyone would understand if she sat this one out after everything they just witnessed? Right? If not they can fight her about it later. Kris gave up way too much to get to this point. The least the world could do right now is let her be selfish, just this once. 

“Right now? In front of all these people? Didn’t realize you were into that sort of thing.” she grins back at him smacking his chest with one hand while her other hand still clutches him for dear life. Despite the happiness, despite the smiles (the most she’s smiled in years), there’s already a countdown happening in the back of her mind. 

Nothing good ever stays. That’s just the way the universe worked for Kris. Today could be the best day of her life, but that only meant a storm was looming in the distance ready to rip it away from her desperate hands. But she does her best to ignore it and focus on what's miraculously in front of her

“Jesus, fuck, Jimmy! What are you doing here?” Kris asks turning back to him with with a grin, her cheeks already hurting from it. “How??” she asks, hand settling on the side of his face while her gaze combed over every inch of his face. 

His smile dims at the question, and if there's plenty to fill the space between the last time he saw her and the moment they're standing in, he thinks there's still a simple answer. "Same thing I've been doin' for seven years. Following Lydia."

His gaze shifts momentarily to the blonde prophet climbing out of his truck, and if he thinks she looks haunted and distant half the time, he wonders if he doesn't look the same. No shoes on her feet, too pale and too thin, but she barely remembers to eat if he doesn't tell her to. And he doesn't know now if it was worth it, he doesn't know if he's played some part in a cosmic game of fate only she can see, or if he lost years of his life for nothing, only at a certain point it had become too late to turn back.

So he kept following her, kept offering out a hand to every survivor she led him to, kept shooting his gun at every monster she either couldn't or forgot to guide them away from. He has the scars to prove it, but he's sure he's not the only one, and he watches for another moment as Lydia steps up to one of the men searching his truck. Palm on his face, intensity in her gaze, and he doesn't have it in him now to wonder what she might be telling him.

Instead he focuses back on Kris, and this time there's just quiet, harsh sincerity in the words. "It's really fuckin' good to see you, Kris."

He's beyond grateful just to see her, even if it still feels slightly surreal. He just can't help but ask the next question, because there's a piece of his family that's been missing for just as long. "How'd you end up here? Any other faces I know around?"

It’s taking everything in her power to not tackle him to the ground and kiss him. The thought that maybe he moved on or that there’s someone else in the picture doesn’t even cross her mind. Instead, her mind and heart are a storm of thoughts, emotions, and feelings that she hasn’t felt in an eternity and thought she would never feel again that immediately overwhelm her. Tears flow down her cheeks, hidden away as she presses her face into Jimmy’s neck, and  her body trembles with each sob.

“Sooo… gonna take a stab in the dark and say that you two know each other?” Kris can’t see him, but she can practically hear the shit eating grin plastering August’s face right now. Suddenly, Kris is painfully aware that she and Jimmy are not alone. And just like that elation is replaced with embarrassment. 

“Gus, I swear to GOD!” Kris spins to snap at Gus, tears still in her eyes. Even though she looks like she’s about to pounce, she has the wherewithal to still keep one possessive hand on Jimmy, not daring to let him go. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Gus says, holding his palms up in friendly surrender gesture with a chuckle. August is laughing, however the rest of the group isn’t and a few noticeably take a step back at Kris’s sudden outburst. 

“You’re a fucking ass,” Kris sniffles, trying to rub away the red that slowly creeping up on her face. “Yes, we know each other and I’ll vouch for them. Do you searches, but please you gotta let them in. Please....” 

The moment's shattered abruptly, and if Kris is quick to turn around, he's less eager to let her go. Fingers curling instinctively in the back of her shirt, as if allowing any added distance between them now can only add to the years and miles apart.

The most he can manage is one hand up at the words, turning to the side so that they can get past him to the door of the truck. Jim can't say there's complete trust handed over now, because everyone but Kris is a stranger, but it's hard to maintain the same cautious approach when he doesn't want to move his hand off the small of her back. And despite the dampness on his cheeks, he can't stop smiling either. "Knock yaself out. Ain't hidin' nothin."

"Jim?" His name comes from the next car back, a note of concern from the man driving it. An old police interceptor with a push bar on the front, but the kid behind the wheel looks like he should've been thrown in the back of it instead of at the helm.

If there's understandable concern, plenty of weapons he knows are stashed in the trunk, he just shakes his head. "It's fine son. Just let 'em look."

His attention shifts back to Kris then, and if he thinks there's a thousand things they need to talk about, a thousand questions he wants to ask, for the moment he just smiles brightly at her, finding some remnants of the man he used to be still remain. "Ya gonna need to frisk me, Officer Shepard?"