antihero.

"HIPAA,  right.  because  they  are  definitely  still  around  to  enforce  those  laws."  he  commented  back  with  a  bitter  tone  that  masked  the  playfulness  of  his  response.  "tch,"  making  the  sound,  pushing  his  tongue  against  his  teeth  with  a  sarcastic  scoff,  the  veteran  crossed  his  arms  over  his  chest  and  shook  his  head  in  disbelief.  "why,  just  'cause  i  can't  remember  the  last  time  a  man  had  me  on  my  back  with  my  legs  bent  back  like  that?"  there  was  no  real  reason  for  him  to  give  it  such  a  sexual  undertone  but,  well,  he  couldn't  help  himself.  maybe  he  was  jealous  after  all. 

"nah."  he  lied  with  pursed  lips.  "not  jealous.  should  i  be?  is  he  getting  some  kind  of  special  treatment?"

he  stayed  there  in  the  doorway,  lingering  like  a  haunted  vampire  waiting  for  an  invitation  to  cross  that  threshold  and  come  inside.

--and  it  was  obvious  he  was  haunted;  with  the  heavy  bags  under  his  eyes  and  the  lines  of  exhaustion  in  his  face.  none  of  them  were  doing  well  but  aj  seemed  to  be  taking  things  worse  than  the  rest;  at  least  he  felt  he  was.  he  had  been  in  a  better  place,  he  had  been  sleeping,  but  losing  his  arm  and  putting  this  new  team  of  his  in  danger  just  to  get  him  a  prosthetic  brought  back  memories--  nightmares--  he  thought  he  had  long  forgotten;  he  thought  he  had  moved  on  from.

"so,"  he  questioned,  his  voice  mirroring  the  tiredness  in  his  face  as  he  kicked  his  foot  at  the  ground  and  looked  at  everything  in  the  space  except  for  ethan.  "are  you  free  or  am  i  interrupting  your  long  line  of  people  waiting  for  you  to  feel  them  up?"

Unbelievable.

He'd barely stumbled through the door before AJ started in on him, the man's grating voice drilling into his skull.

"Look at this." Leo cut him off, his fingers finding the hem of his shirt. He yanked the fabric up, exposing the angry wound on his bicep.

The hole was small, the edges surprisingly clean for a bullet. Blood still oozed from it, trailing in rivulets down his arm.

Leo scoffed, rolling his eyes. "No, you pillock. I got shot." He let the shirt drop, ignoring the fresh bloom of pain as the movement pulled at his wound.

"Clean through. Hardly more than a graze." A lie, but AJ didn't need to know that. The bullet had torn straight through the meat of his arm, and it hurt like a bitch. But damned if he'd let AJ see him wince.

"Some arsehole got the jump on me. Didn't stick around long enough for a chat."

He shifted his weight, the throb in his arm settling into a deep ache. Christ, he was tired. The walk back had taken twice as long as it should have, every step jarring the wound. All he wanted was to clean it, slap on a bandage, and sleep for a week.

Leo shrugged, then immediately regretted it as pain lanced through his shoulder. "I handled it. It's done. The supplies are stashed downstairs, and that's all anyone needs to know." He reached for the medkit, his fingers clumsy as he fumbled with the latch. "Probably some scavenger, just like us. Except with shittier aim."

"You're angry, they grounded you to your room; what else is new?" Leo muttered, finally getting the medkit open. He rummaged through its contents, looking for anything to stem the bleeding. "I'm still alive, aren't I? That's more than most can say these days."

"that's  rich  coming  from  the  asshole  that  went  out  on  his  own  rather  than  taking  someone  with  you.  we  have  procedures  for  a  reason  leo."  not  that  he  needed  to  remind  the  other,  he  had  managed  to  get  himself  shot  and  that  should  have  been  punishment  enough,  but  aj  just  couldn't  help  himself. 

maybe  he  did  like  the  sound  of  his  own  voice.

taking  a  look  at  the  other's  wound--  taking  note  of  the  clean  entry  point,  the  blood  trailing  down  his  arm,  and  even  the  way  leo  tried  to  stifle  and  hide  the  pain  he  was  clearly  feeling--  there  was  not  an  ounce  of  compassion  in  the  ex  marine's  features  as  he  lifted  his  gaze  and  narrowed  his  eyes  at  the  younger  man  in  another  glare.

"barely  just  a  graze?  the  fucker  shot  you  clean  through  and  you're  trying  to  tell  me  it  was  barely  just  a  graze?  i'm  starting  to  think  you  really  are  an  idiot."

what  he  meant  to  say  was  i  don't  care  about  the  supplies.  you  could  have  gotten  yourself  killed.  what  the  hell  were  you  thinking.  just  because  we  don't  know  each  other  well  and  we're  all  stuck  here,  do  you  really  think  none  of  us  care  about  you;  that  none  of  us  care  about  what  happens  to  you?  instead  he  just  fussed  more. 

"i'm  not  grounded  to  my  room,  asshole.  next  time  you  feel  like  doing  something  stupid  at  least  take  me  with  you.  you  clearly  need  the  help."

"you got  yourself  fucking  shot,"  he  repeated,  as  if  he  needed  to  remind  the  other  of  the  pain  he  was  in,  as  he  placed  his  hands  on  his  hips  and  shook  his  head.

"you're  lucky  to  be  alive.  what  if  they  weren't  alone?  what  if  they  were  a  better  shot?  what  if  they  got  you  in  the  leg  and  the  sound  drew  out  some  of  those  other  fuckers  to  your  location?  you  shouldn't  have  been  out  there  alone  leo."

underneath  the  obvious  annoyance  and  disappointment  he  was  glad  the  other  made  it  back  relatively  okay.

"give  me  that,"  he  finally  spoke  in  a  soft  tone  as  he  reached  out  for  the  other's  med  kit.  "it  won't  be  pretty,  but  i  can  get  you  patched  up  enough  to  get  you  upstairs  so  grant  can  take  a  proper  look  at  you."

it  was  the  only  way  he  knew  how  to  show  he  cared.

"I  was  trying  to  inventory  what  I  have  left  of  supplies.  You  know  medical  procedures  don't  just  happen.  A  lot  of  preparedness  and  time  go  into  making  sure  I  don't  screw  up  and  kill  someone  by  accident."  Grant  ran  his  fingers  over  AJ's  metal  fingers  and  palm  studying  them  for  a  minute  before  letting  go  and  looking  back  at  the  other.

Grant  smiled  and  shrugged.  "So  what  has  you  stomping  extra  loud?  Just  a  bad  PTSD  day?  We  can  try  and  get  some  drugs  for  that  you  know.  No  need  for  you  to  suffer  silently  you  know.  As  unlikely  of  allies  we  have  all  become,  we  are  stuck  with  each  other.  I've  already  saved  you  once."  he  said  with  a  hum  as  he  nodded  toward  the  door  he  came  out  of.  "Why  don't  you  come  keep  me  company  huh?  Get  your  mind  off  of...whatever  it  is  you  dwell  on  in  here."

"the  safety  was  on  doc,"  he  mumbled  in  stale  argument  with  a  loose,  almost  nonexistent  shrug  of  his  shoulders.  "couldn't  have  pulled  the  trigger  even  if  i  had  wanted  too."  when  the  other  mentioned  that  they  were  safe  for  once  his  deadpanned  expression  was  purposeful.  "come  on,  i  know  you  can't  be  serious.  we're  safe  here?  you're  smarter  than  that."

"it  might  feel  that  way  but  don't  let  yourself  get  too  comfortable.  safe."  he  repeated  the  word  against  with  a  scoff.  "we  are  in  a  massive  commercial  office  building  and  yet  instead  of  having  the  entire  run  of  the  place  we  are  confining  ourselves  to  only  a  few  floors  because  we  don't  know  what's  hiding  out  on  the  rest  of  them.  we  have  to  mind  our  noise  because  even  if  we  are  safe  here,  even  if  the  streets  around  us  do  seem  empty,  anything  too  loud  could  draw  more  of  those  fuckers  our  way  or  worse;  other  people.  we  aren't  safe  doc,  we  are  barely  even  getting  by."

now  wasn't  the  time  to  fuss  at  the  man,  though,  or  question  his  sanity  for  really  thinking  they  were  safe.  though  his  own  annoyance  was  a  decent  source  of  distraction  because  while  he  prattled  off  his  judgement  on  the  man  he  didn't  even  realize  grant  was  inspecting  his  prosthetic.  he  was  completely  oblivious,  even  after  the  man  dropped  his  hand,  to  the  fact  that  he  was  holding  it  at  all.

"i  don't  need  the  drugs,  i'm  just--"  he  now  realized  he  hadn't  really  told  any  of  them  much  about  his  past.  just  that  he  was  a  marine,  was  honorably  discharged,  and  started  picking  up  work  as  a  private  investigator  because  he  hated  sitting  around  idly  at  home.  he  hadn't  given  any  of  them  details.  he  hadn't  told  them  about  the  nightmares,  old  and  new,  that  plagued  his  sleep.  "i'm  fine."  he  offered  through  clenched  teeth.

because  that  made  it  sound  more  believable.

"--and  you  don't  need  to  worry,  i'm  not  going  to  let  that  myself  get  sloppy  and  need  saving  again."  in  a  weird  way,  he  was  trying  to  say  thank  you  for  what  grant  did  for  him  originally.

"i  don't  need  a  distraction  doc,  i  was  just  walking  around..."  he  lied  and  argued,  as  stubborn  as  ever,  only  to  make  it  clear  he  did  as  he  subtly  leaned  closer  to  the  other  man;  another  one  of  the  few  he  might  have  considered  a  friend,  "but  if  you  want  me  to  keep  you  company  while  you  work  i  can  probably  manage  that... this time."

sleep  didn't  come  easy  to  him,  so  he  let  it  wash  over  him  when  it  came  so  that  he  could  get  at  least  some  shut-eye  every  now  &  then.  he'd  struggled  with  sleep  even  before  the  world  turned  to  shit,  jolted  awake  with  a  mind  still  trapped  in  memories  of  the  past.  he  still  did.  so  when  he  woke,  it  was  always  with  a  gasp  -  some  smaller,  some  ...  more  audible.  this  time,  eyes  snapped  open  &  fingers  tightened  around  the  rifle  in  his  grip,  eyes  darting  around  &  assessing  where  he  was,  why  he  was...  until  they  fall  on  the  source  of  noise  close-by.

what?

brain  still  fuzzy  from  sleep,  he  stifled  a  yawn  with  a  fist  again  his  mouth  &  let  his  gaze  linger  on  aj  for  a  short  moment.  was  he...  joking?  didn't  feel  like  he  was,  per  se.  elijah  had  been  training  the  group,  hopeful  to  teach  everybody  the  basics  at  least,  but  that  didn't  mean  anything  for  his  group  of  raiders.  he  didn't  expect  them  to  worry  -  or  aj  precisely,  or  maybe  he  had  reason  to  worry  more  than  others.  then  again,  nah.

"just  curious.  seems  like  a  lot  of  training  and  a  waste  of  ammunition  just  for  nothing."  he  was  joking.  obviously.  elijah  should  have  known  that  too  because--  wait,  no,  it  wasn't  obvious  because  instead  of  laughing,  instead  of  smiling,  or  shaking  his  head  with  a  smirk  to  clue  the  man  into  the  fact  he  was  just  teasing...  aj  was  sitting  there,  stone  face,  with  heavy  and  tired  eyes  that  bore  into  the  other  man  as  if  he  had  just  given  him  the  worst  news  of  his  life.

his  insecurities  and  worries  aside,  he  was  joking.

sitting  up  a  bit  straighter,  letting  out  a  heavy  exhale  of  breath,  the  hard  lines  of  aj's  face  softened  a  touch  as  he  started  talking  again.  he  was,  after  all,  here  for  a  reason.  he  hadn't  kept  watch  beside  elijah  while  he  slept  just  because  he  wanted  to  joke  around  with  him.

"you  actually  had  me  thinking,"  he  began  to  explain  with  a  loose  nod  of  his  head,  "that  it  might  be  good  to  give  some  of  the  other's  a  bit  of  experience.  not  that  we're  going  to  throw  them  out  the  front  door  and  hope  for  the  best  but,  you're  right,  they  are  going  to  need  to  be  ready  for  anything.  i  was  actually  thinking  that  i,"  he  paused  to  clear  his  throat,  "--that  we,"  as  in  the  other  raiders, though he did want to be running point for one of the groups so he could prove to everyone that hadn't lost his touch,  "could  take  a  small  group  of  some  of  them,  the  one's  that  seemed  the  most  comfortable  holding  a  gun  and  capable  of  shooting  them  and  not  us,  and  check  out  some  of  the  other  floors  in  this  building.  i  don't  think  any  of  them  would  be  ready  to  join  us  on  a  run  but  getting  them  out,  getting  them  to  help  us  clear  the  floors  and  check  for  any  left  over  supplies,  could  help  them  get  more  comfortable  and  it  gives  us  a  controlled  environment  to  give  them  a  bit  more  hands  on  training  in  case  any  of  those  things  are  stuck  in  here  with  us..."

see.  he  had  a  reason  for  being  here.  he  wasn't  just  camping  out  beside  elijah  because  he  was  one  of  the  few  aj  considered  a  friend.

Truth be told, Mallory didn't give two fucks if he got credit for any of the shit he did. At the end of the day, he knew he was useful. Which was why he was so damn annoyingly arrogant about it. "Hey now," he mused, mock placing a hand over his heart. "If you wanted praise for our little group project so bad, all you had to do was ask."

Landrum wasn't lying, however. Mallory couldn't have gotten those things by himself. As much as he hated to admit it, if he was going to go outside and risk his neck, he preferred Landrum be the one watching his back. For all his sour expressions, the man knew what he what the fuck he was doing. Mallory could appreciate someone who knew his skillset and used it to his advantage.

Mallory chuckled. "Is that your sly way of asking if my dick is massive?" he asked, purposefully misreading Landrum's words to piss him off.

He cocked a brow, however, when Landrum reached out to grip his thigh -- just the right side of painful, too, getting his point across eloquently. He then proceeded to jam his dulled fork into Mallory's thigh and yeah, he'll admit it, he winced.

"Easy there, Tiger."

Did Mallory want to end up in the infirmary with a fork stuck in his thigh? No, not really. Did his mouth have a different idea? Unfortunately.

"Alright, I'll play ball," he drawled in reply. "You're wound so tight a good fucking would probably do you good." Mallory was all smiles now. "Unless you're scared of how easily I'd have you begging?" Mallory lifted the fruit cup to his lips then, knocking it back and swallowing the contents before wiping the back of his hand across his mouth, revealing a smirk.

it  was  moments  like  this  that  proved  aj  wasn't  emotionless.  he  was  almost  always  angry,  or  annoyed,  and  if  he  wasn't  it  was  easy  to  make  him.  therefore  he  wasn't  emotionless  he  just  lacked  nuance;  or,  rather,  he  swallowed  down  any  semblence  of  compassion  and  positivity  so  he  could  make  more  room  for  the  selfishness  and  negativity  that  already  made  a  home  for  itself  on  the  surface;  in  the  lines  of  his  face.

maybe  that  was  why  he  hated  mallory  so  much.  the  plan  could  play  him  like  a  violin  with  ease.  it's  as  if  someone  gave  him  an  instruction  manual  on  what  made  aj  tick,  and  he  memorized  it  within  minutes  just  for  the  spite  of  it.  but  even  as  much  as  the  man  annoyed  him,  even  as  much  as  he  wanted  to  knock  that  smirk  off  his  face  with  his  fist,  he  wasn't  going  to  let  anyone  else  hurt  him;  or  anything  else.

if  they  lost  mallory  on  a  supply  run  then  who  was  going  to  make  his  blood  boil  just  by  looking  at  him?

"asking  you  for  praise  would  be  a  waste  of  breath.  i'm  pretty  sure  your  head  is  stuck  so  far  up  your  ass  you  don't  even  realize  you  have  a  whole  team  with  you  when  we  go  searching  for  the  shit  you  need."  he  grumbled.

"you  know  that's  not  what  i  meant  you  little  shit."  this  time  he  almost  hissed  as  he  cut  his  eyes  over  at  mallory;  his  glance  starting  at  the  man's  groin,  barely  lingering  there  for  a  second,  before  flicking  up  so  he  could  glare  at  the  other.  he  hadn't  been  asking  that  but  now,  in  the  back  of  his  mind,  he  was  definitely  wondering  about  it.

easy  there  tiger.  unfortunately  for  aj,  in  that  moment  he  was  naive  and  thought  that  meant  mallory  was  going  to  cave  and  give  him  the  fruit  cup  back.  again.  all  of  this  for  a  fruit  cup.  instead,  that  damned  mouth  on  the  other  man  started  running  again;  making  him  groan  and  roll  his  eyes  as  he  was  taunted  and  teased.

"you...  fucker..."  the  words  were  muffled  as  he  spoke  through  clenched  teeth;  as  he  watched  mallory  tilt  his  head  back  and  swallow  every  bit  of  fruit  and  every  last  drop  of  the  juice  it  was  sitting  in.  tightening  his  grip  on  the  fork,  he  applied  more  pressure  as  he  pressed  it  harder  against  the  other's  thigh.  "even  if  you  were  being  serious,  even  if  letting  you  fuck  me  is  something  i  would  consider,  you  seem  to  have  forgotten  where  the  hell  we  are."

leaning  back,  he  gestured  around  them  with  his  right  hand  as  he  looked  back  at  mallory  as  if  he  were  crazy.  "this  isn't  an  apartment  complex,  this  isn't  some  luxury  resort,  we  are  in  a  fucking  abandoned  office  building.  we  don't  have  the  luxury  of  privacy  here.  you  are  such  a  fucking  dick."  he  was  ready  to  just  finish  it  right  then  and  there,  to  just  stab  the  fork  into  the  other's  thigh  and  call  it  even,  but  something  kept  him  from  following  through;  something  had  him  asking  more  questions.

"actually,  no,  please,  tell  me  what  you  were  thinking.  what?  that  i  would  just  throw  myself  over  this  table  and  let  you  go  to  town  while  everyone  watched?  that  we  could,  i  don't  know,  make  the  most  of  the  stairwells  that  if  i'm  walking  too  loudly  in  i  get  fussed  at  for?  or,  better  yet,  maybe  we  should  just  go  down  to  the  bathroom--  it  would  be  our  best  chance  at  privacy--  and  if  we're  lucky  and  don't  get  interrupted  we  could  even  pretend  it's  a  bar  bathroom  and  i'm  just  some  desperate  slut  that  needed  to  be  dicked  so  badly  i  couldn't  even  wait  for  us  to  get  back  to  my  place."

"please  tell  me  how  you  saw  this  playing  out?"

"you  wish  i  would  beg  for  you."

he  might  have  been  questioning  the  other's  idea  but  he  had  yet  to  actually  turn  it  down.

Blood seeped between Leo's fingers, sticky and warm, as he gripped his shoulder. The wound throbbed a dull ache that sharpened with each cautious step through the dark hallway. Dim light flickered from a broken lamp overhead, the bulb sputtering its last breaths. Dust motes danced in the feeble glow.

Careless, Leo chastised himself, jaw clenched. The scavenging run had started smoothly—in and out of the abandoned store, grabbing essential supplies—until that final moment. He'd got cocky, assuming the area was clear. The shambling figure had lunged from the shadows without warning. Rotten teeth snapped inches from Leo's neck as he grappled with the zombie, muscles burning, pulse roaring in his ears. The creature's bony fingers clawed at his jacket until he managed to jam his knife into its skull with a sickening crunch.

But not before the other one blindsided him, a bullet tearing into his shoulder as he dove for cover. By the time Leo whirled to return fire, the mystery shooter had vanished.

Sloppy. Stupid. He'd limped back to their base, a wounded animal desperate to lick its wounds. The old Dallas Morning News building stood like a crumbling gravestone, windows shattered, edges crumbling. Remnants of the lives once lived here lingered—overturned desks, scattered papers, broken picture frames. The musty smell of decay clung to everything.

Leo navigated the maze of debris, his breath shallow, boots crunching on broken glass. Pain lanced through his arm with every jostle, but he gritted his teeth, swallowing any sounds of distress. He couldn't let the others see him like this—weak, bleeding, barely escaping by the skin of his teeth. In this world, vulnerability was a death sentence. Any hint of frailty, and hungry eyes turned your way, eager to capitalize.

No, he had to handle this himself. Patch up the damage and bury any trace of fallibility. Lock it away, just like he'd done ever since the world went to hell. Trust no one. Rely on no one. Survival was a solo game.

Except... it wasn't quite that simple any more, was it? As much as Leo clung to his lone wolf ways, he couldn't deny he'd grown attached to this ragtag band of survivors.

Leo shrugged out of his jacket, biting back a hiss of pain as the fabric peeled away from his skin. The shirt beneath was soaked crimson, the color almost black. He fumbled for the medkit on his belt, fingers slippery and clumsy. Just as he managed to unclasp it, a sound froze him in place.

Footsteps. Steady, purposeful. Growing louder with each passing second.

Leo's heart stuttered, his grip tightening on the medkit. Shit. Someone was coming. He couldn't let them find him like this.

The door creaked open, and a figure stepped into the room. Leo tensed, bracing for the inevitable fallout. For the questions, the pity, the disappointment.

he  was  pissed,  though  he  wasn't  sure  who  he  was  pissed  with.

by  pure  luck,  if  you  could  call  it  that,  he  managed  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  other  leaving  the  building  through  one  of  the  windows  and  it  immediately  triggered  his  anger.  as  far  as  he  had  been  told  they  weren't  planning  for  any  runs  at  the  moment,  and  they  sure  as  hell  shouldn't  have  been  sending  someone  out  on  their  own--  but  if  they  were,  why  did  they  choose  him  and  not  send  aj?  was  he  actually  getting  benched  because  he  had  gotten  hurt?  he  was  fine  now,  that  wasn't  fair--  and  if  they  needed  to  do  another  run,  why  the  hell  did  they  tell  him  they  weren't  sending  anyone  out  today?

yeah.  aj  was  definitely  pissed.

by  the  time  the  other  was  making  his  way  back,  aj  was  only  angrier.  instead  of  bothering  to  get  answers,  or  ask  questions,  he  kept  jumping  to  his  own  conclusions;  and  that  was  never  a  good  idea.

stomping  down  the  stairs  like,  each  slam  of  his  heels  against  the  ground  echoing  through  the  building  around  him,  he  swung  the  door  open  to  the  lower  levels  and  let  it  slam  against  the  wall  as  if  everything  was  fine  again;  as  if  they  didn't  need  to  watch  the  noises  they  made  because  there  were  shambling  corpses  hiding  in  the  street  that  might  be  drawn  in  by  the  sound.

"what  the  actual  fuck  were  you  thinking?  are  you  an  idiot?  going  out  by  yourself  on  an  unsanctioned  run?"

mind  you,  everything  aj  was  accusing  him  of  was  an  assumption.  he  wasn't  in  charge  of  runs,  he  wasn't  even  a  leader.  he  was  just  a  member  of  the  raider  team,  like  leo.  he  could  have  been  sent  out  on  his  own.  nobody  needed  aj's  permission  for,  well,  anything.

"you  have  some  fucking  nerve.  did  you  even  consider  what  could  have  happened  to  you,  or  what  you  could  have  lead  back  to  us?  i  hope  it  was  fucking  worth  it.  did  you  even--"

he  finally  stopped  his  yelling  as  he  looked  at  the  other  and  saw  the  blood;  as  he  saw  the  pain,  and  exhaustion,  in  his  eyes.

"did  you  get  bitten?"  he  questioned  his  tone  quieting  down,  though  still  stern,  as  he  took  a  step  closer  to  try  and  get  a  look  at  the  other's  injury.

He should find Landrum's words insulting, but he merely found them amusing. "Well," he drawled, smile slipping into a smirk. "I thought you had better critical thinking skills than that, dickhead." He understood what Landrum was saying. He didn't have any combat experience. He knew how to shoot a gun -- and shoot it well -- but he wasn't as fine tuned as the others in an emergency, as militantly minded.

And that was exactly why he was a good fit. Send a bunch of military jackasses out to get what they needed and they'd overlook the small, but important shit. Besides, Mallory had is own set of skills. He understood exactly what they were dealing with when it came to the power grid -- it was fucked -- and what kind of resources they could make use of. "The charging station I built from shit I knew to look for would suggest otherwise," he quipped, a touch of arrogance hemming the edge of his words.

He chuckled. "And strip you of your sense of duty by doing your job for you?" He cocked brow. "I'm an asshole, Landrum, not a monster."

even  before  the  world  went  to  hell  and  back,  there  were  certain  types  of  people  that  he  just  couldn't  stand.  mallory  was  one  of  them.  he  couldn't  quite  put  his  finger  on  it  and  explain  why--  maybe  it  was  the  man's  smugness,  the  fact  he  was  smarter  on  paper,  or  the  way  he  talked  down  to  aj  all  the  time,  or  maybe  it  was  because  they  were  so  similar,  or  maybe  it's  because  part  of  him  was  frustratingly  attracted  to  him  --  but  he  knew,  deep  down,  that  if  they  had  met  before  dallas--  before  the  virus--  he  would  have  punched  mallory  in  the  face  at  least  ten  times  by  now.

"the  charging  station  you  built  from  shit  we  had  to  help  you  find?  that  one?  okay,"  he  shot  back  with  a  roll  of  his  eyes.  taking  the  fork  in  his  hand,  he  wiped  any  remnants  of  food  and  spit  off  onto  his  jeans  before  he  began  to  slowly,  almost  absentmindedly  flip  it  over  and  over  again  in  his  grip.

"see,  i  was  going  to  say  you're  more  of  a  massive  dick  but,  yeah,  asshole  works.

oh  asshole  definitely  worked  to  define  mallory  as  he  not  only  made  and  held  eye  contact  with  aj,  but  as  he  went  a  step  further  and  peeled  back  the  protective  plastic  layer  on  the  fruit  cup.

it  was  a  fucking  fruit  cup.

it  wasn't  worth  fighting  over,  and  yet...

"how  about  this,"  turning  to  face  the  other,  aj  reached  out  with  his  metal  arm  to  grip  at  mallory's  thigh;  his  hold  on  him  tight  and  firm  as  he  used  his  grip  to  pull  the  man  even  closer  to  him.  "you  either  give  me  something  else,  we  can  pretend  your  civilized  and  make  it  a  trade,  or,"  speaking  low  as  he  pulled  his  hand  away  from  mallory's  thigh,  aj  passed  the  fork  from  his  left  hand  to  his  right  just  so  he  could  grip  it  tight  around  the  shaft  as  he  brought  his  hand  back  down;  digging  the  blunt  tips  of  the  metal  prongs  into  mallory's  thigh.  "i  can  take  my  fruit  cup  back  after  i  send  you  to  see  sammy,  or  grant  even,  with  a  fork  jutting  out  of  your  leg.  your  choice  mal."

Too  close  for  comfort.  Even  with  all  the  space  they  had  in  the  office  building  it  wasn't  enough  sometimes.  Like  now.  He  heard  the  thumping  of  feet  in  the  stairs  and  at  first  he  had  tried  to  ignore  it.  He  had  pressed  on  into  his  notes,  looking  over  details  to  see  if  anything  important  jumped  out  at  him.  It  kept  going.  Finally  in  exasperation  he  decided  to  ask  them  to  stop.  Nicely  of  course.

"Oh  how  nice.  You're  going  to  shoot  me  are  you  G.I.  Joe?  Can  you  try  and  stomp  a  little  quieter  normally  nobody  cares  you  pace  the  stairs  but  today  you  are  being  extra  heavy  footed  it  seems,  and  I  am  trying  to  concentrate."

"i'm  not  going  to  shoot  you,"  he  argued  with  a  heavy  sigh  of  his  breath  as  he  holstered  the  pistol  in  the  clip  on  his  hip.  "i  didn't  know  it  was  you,  i  just  heard  something  approaching  and--"  cutting  himself  off  with  a  huff  of  breath  and  a  dismissive  roll  of  his  eyes,  aj  took  a  step  back  and  placed  his  hands  on  his  hip;  his  right  hand  clenching  into  a  fist  and  opening  again  before  settling  against  his  hip  as  if  it  were  tight;  as  if  he  were  still  adjusting  to  it.  "i  wasn't  going  to  shoot  you."

ammo  was  hard  enough  to  find  for  him  to  be  wasting  it  on  other  survivors  because  he  was  restless  and  a  bit  jumpy;  that  and,  well,  grant  was  one  of  the  few  that  he  actually  considered  himself  to  be  on  a  team  with  rather  than  simply  being  here  with  him.  he  was,  after  all,  the  reason  aj  didn't  bleed  out  after  that  failed  supply  run  and  also  the  one  to  thank  for  the  shiny,  state-of-the-art  metal  prosthetic  right  arm.  he  owed  grant,  and  that  wasn't  something  he  was  just  going  to  forget.

"what,  uhm,"  he  questioned  with  a  nod  of  his  head  towards  the  strangely  well  dressed  doc.  did  he  not  know  the  world  was  ending?  he  didn't  need  to  wear  a  three  piece.  "what  are  you  trying  to  concentrate  on  doc?  i  thought  you  already  knew  everything."  there  was  a  bit  of  teasing  in  his  tone  but,  really,  aj  was  just  looking  for  something  else  to  distract  himself  with  since  he  was  allegedly  heavy  footed  today.

“... woah! hang on”.

Mallory was so God damn sick of peas. He didn't consider himself a particularly picky eater. Growing up, he ate what his Mama put on his plate and he finished it. But a man could only eat so many peas before he started to contemplate the merits of murder. Mallory wasn't ungrateful, either. He went on the raids, he understood what was out there and how important it was to stretch the food as far possible.

Sometimes, he wondered if he made a mistake, staying here. They were in the city, surrounded by walking corpses and people with dubious intentions. He'd have likely done better in the woods on his own, his father's hunting rifle all he'd ever need to keep himself fed. That and the lakes. Plenty of fish to catch and gut.

Still, as much as he kept to himself and minded his own damn business, he at least showed his face and ate with the rest of their group every now and again.

Today's dinner looked a hell of a lot more promising. There was even fruit cups (the shitty, dole kind they fed to kids), but Mallory wasn't about to pass up something sweet.

After he acquired his plate (an assortment of canned black beans, green beans, and his fruit cup), he scanned the crowd lazily for at least one vaguely familiar face.

Ah. Landrum. He'd recognized the back of that bastard's head a mile away. He didn't really think about it as he headed towards him. They weren't friends. Mallory wasn't even sure he liked the dickhead, truly. What he was... was familiar. Mallory strode towards him, easily commandeering the vacant spot beside him without a word. He glanced at Landrum's tray. More specifically, his untouched fruit cup.

Mallory snatched it off Landrum's plate without asking. "What?" he asked, quirking a single eyebrow. "Didn't look to me like you were eating it."

the  world  was  fucking  ending.  all  those  mindless  hours  spent  doom  scrolling  on  social  media,  liking  recipes  and  cooking  hacks  he  was  never  going  to  try  in  the  first  place,  meant  absolutely  nothing  now--  food  tasting  good  had  become  a  luxury  none  of  them  could  really  afford.  you  see,  the  virus  spreading  not  only  filled  the  streets  with  those  ambling  rotting  corpses  but  it  also  brought  out  the  monster  in  people.  everything  was  worth  fighting  over;  there  were  no  shared  comraderies  or  unified  fronts--  when  shit  hit  the  fan  it  became  every  man  for  himself  and  good  fucking  luck  if  you  weren't  a  good  shot.

food  was  scarce  and  not  necessarily  because  people  had  eaten  it.  yes,  there  were  other  survivors  out  there  doing  what  they  could  to  get  by,  but  sometimes  it  was  worse  than  that;  sometimes  they  had  to  go  hungry  because  people  were  so  god-damned  messy  and  selfish  that  in  their  desperate  attempts  to  take  care  of  themselves  and  no  one  else,  they  left  food  open;  out  to  mold  and  rot.  buildings  lost  power,  so  anything  refrigerated  or  frozen  went  bad  and  became  unsafe  to  eat.  eventually  all  that  was  left  was  that  pre  packaged  shit  that  sat  on  shelves  for  years  without  ever  changing  in  taste  or  quality;  and  the  words  quality  was  being  used  loosely  here.

beggars  couldn't  be  choosers,  or  something  like  that.

they  needed  to  be  grateful  that  at  least  they  managed  to  find  enough  to  keep  everyone  in  their  group  fed.  not  full,  but  still  fed.  hell.  he  wasn't  going  to  complain.  as  he  pushed  at  the  food  on  his  tray  with  the  metal  fork  in  his  right  hand,  he  couldn't  help  but  remember  the  horrible  meals  they  served  him  during  his  time  in  the  marines.  the  slop,  as  they  called  it.  it  had  such  a  foul  taste  to  it  that  it  made  canned  peas,  beans,  and  even  twinkies  taste  like  a  five  star  meal  prepared  by  gordon  ramsey  himself.

this  time  they  were  all  lucky  enough  to  even  have  fruit  cups,  and  it  wasn't  even  christmas  yet.

"seats  taken."  he  mumbled,  almost  like  a  reflex,  as  he  heard  the  shuffling  of  feet  behind  him;  as  someone  approached  his  table.  normally  that  would  have  worked,  most  people  would  have  just  found  somewhere  else  to  sit  and  grumbled  under  their  breath  at  him,  but  of  course  mallory  wasn't  most  people.

"really?"  he  groaned,  years  of  exasperation  and  annoyance  hanging  on  his  breath  though  he'd  only  known  the  man  for  a  few  months,  as  mallory  took  his  fruit  cup  without  even  bothering  to  ask.  "the  more  time  i  spend  with  you,  the  more  i  wonder  what  the  hell  they  were  thinking  letting  you  be  on  the  raiding  team.  can't  even  find  your  own  damn  food,  mallory.  useful  as  fucking  ever."

"now  put  it  back."