#henrypeletier

You were Alphas daughter, not long ago you were in her pack. You wanted to help, truly, you wished nothing more than to do so but of course, Daryl Dixon simply wouldn't allow it.

You remembered being shoved into a room, and a small one at that. He locked the door and told you to keep quiet, you wondered if he had told Connie and Henry before he did so, or it was just an irrational option. You remembered banging on the door as soon as he closed it, pleading with him to let you out. Ever since you were a child, you hated tight spaces, and now, you were locked in one alone with only a flashlight for he had shoved you in too soon, not even allowing you to pick up the stick in which Henry had sharpened for you.

You stopped banging on the door when you heard them. The groans were low, seemingly far away, You guessed they were at the bottom of the building. You knew not to attract any sound to where you were, it would only end in death so all you could so was stand worriedly, your teeth chomping on your already bitten nail as you worried for the three others and what your old pack would do to them, especially a certain blonde who became what you assumed a boyfriend was.

You couldn't remember how long you stood there for, and while trying to think of how long it may have been, your heart dropped. The sound, a whisperer. You knew the steps were much too heavy to be a walker and no groans were yet coming out of the being, they were in the very same room as you. You held your breath, you tried shuffling to the back of the room though you didn't wish to make noise.

The heavy steps got louder, you shoved a hand to your mouth to silence yourself. Your eyes glanced around the room, no weapon, no anything but a switched off flashlight, the last thing you needed was to be found out by an accidental flash of a light. Then your eyes flickered down, you could see the steps coming closer to the bottom of the door, the light slowly being consumed as the whisperer stepped closer and closer to the wood. And then came the small wrap of their fingers, tapping on the old wood, you swore the tears in your eyes would not leak, you were finding it hard to keep up with it. "Oh, Y/n?" The whisper so low, but you knew it didn't belong to your friend. It belonged to one of them. They knew you were here. You tried to stop the sob at the back of your throat. You were scared. Oh so desperately scared. "Can you open the door, y/n?" You remained silent. This didn't go well for you, unfortunately. "I said open the door!"

You couldn't remember if you screamed or not, as the door came to slam down on the ground, next to your feet. They had pushed it down. What you did remember was leaving out a slight whimper as they stepped into the room. You were already done for.

They didn't hesitate to raise their knife. You pushed the hand away but they stormed closer, placing a hand on your chest as they shoved you back. You felt a pang in your back as it was shoved against the desk behind you, whimpering once more as their knife came in contact with your neck, though not enough to draw blood. "Please..." You begged, tears in your eyes that you pushed down. "Please don't do this." You could see the familliar look in their eyes. It was nothing. Cold, empty, they had no emotion.

And so you took your chance, swinging. You had found a crowbar sitting behind you, you wondered how you hadn't seen it before. It came in contact with their head, their mask, just enough for them to stumble backwards. You ran. Your feet lifted before your thoughts could think, before you could even regain your composure your boots were slapping against the ground. And then they did the exact same thing you had before, they swung.

It was your turn to stumble as a slash came to your calf, you felt the blood begin to ooze out, coating your jeans. The whisperer took the opportunity to launch forward, taking you to the ground. You fell to your back, the whisperer on top of you, pinning your arms down, you had lost.

You felt a cold sticky and mrtalic blade on your neck, gently graseing it, you're own blood coating it. "Alpha told us to take you alive." The person on top of you whispered, head lowered to your ear. Another shaky whimper left you, you knew you fucked up, you were done for, this was he end. "But I think you'd make a great mask." It was when the blood slowly began to leak that you realised their knife was already cutting through your skin.

Suddenly, something was plunged right into their head, lifeless corpse instantly falling onto your body. You let out a soft and small cry as their blade slipped from their unmoving hand, scratching you across the shoulder. Your eyes instantly flickered up and there he stood, a sweaty Henry with his long stick in his hand as he pulled it from the whisperers head. You instantly shook the body off of you as you sat up.

Henry was already bent down beside you when your back emerged from the ground. You suddenly didn't care for the scratch on your neck or the not so serious wound on your shoulder, you threw your body forward. You didn't know why you were crying really, it was a zombie apocalypse for heaven's sake, you had experienced much worse things than this though this time, you really did think that it was the end. Maybe you were still crying of fear, that it hadn't left your body yet or maybe it was relief that the blonde boy in front of you had saved your life, that he was here and safe right next to you.

"Hey, hey it's okay." Just the sound of his voice wracked a whimper from your weak body. Your arms thrown around his neck while one of his hands was holding the back of your head which you had skinned off the ground in front of you, little blood leaving it while his other hand was holding your torso close to his. "You're okay, you're safe."

His words registered in your mind as you pulled him closer. Henry was always protective of you, whether you had known so or not, he always came back for you, he saved you in more ways than one. "Henry-" you simply couldn't get the words out but he knew by the way you squeezed his body further.

"I know, I know." The boy whispered back, his hand slightly moving to stroke your hair. He was still bent down by the ground, your body practically leaning completely on him, but he didn't mind. "It's over now, alright? We're safe, you're safe."

You sniffled as you backed away slightly, your body was still weak and feeble but your mind was screaming at you to keep it together. "Are you okay?" Your voice still shaky, the under of your eyes had gone red as the tears had visibly made their way down your cheeks. "Did you get hurt?" Your eyes scanning all over his face, glancing down to his arms in worry that someone had gotten to him before he had gotten to you although he didn't appear to be in much pain.

"No, no I'm fine." He assured you. Suddenly he stopped your eyes from roaming. His hands fell on either side of your head, not bothering to move your hair as his chocolate eyes found home in your own. See the thing about Henry was that his mother was a survivor of abuse so he did whatever it took to protect people, he did whatever it took to protect you. "I'm okay, I promise." His words settled in your head, squeezing it's way through your mind to make you understand that no, he wasn't in any physical type of pain, nothing to worry about, not yet at least. You nodded your head, hands on his wrists, gently holding him your touch was always so soft, it was something that Henry had grown to love about you. He pulled you in once more, his embrace warm, so unlike anything you had ever experienced your entire life. Your head was in the crook of his neck, your nose against his shoulder as you thanked whatever god there was for saving not only you but him, the sweet boy that always protected you, no matter the cost. "Come on, let's get you home."

You never did understand what Henry meant by getting you home for as far as you were concerned you already were home. Sure the abandoned building your in meant less than nothing to you but that didn't mean that your home was necessarily four walls and a roof, you had spent too long trying to understand that but now you did. You spent most your life without a home, actually, but now, as you held onto the blonde boy who had risked his life for you many times too many you knew you were finally, finally home.

For home was whenever you were with him. Henry peletier. Your protector.