#kidsquad

Imagine Chris never having to deal with Madison’s second-hand, “I’m only doing this because Travis is watching” affection. Imagine Alicia and Nick not feeling trapped by Madison. Imagine Chris not having to look his own dad in the eye while Travis basically damns him. Imagine Alicia and Nick not having to suffer through Travis and Madison constantly at odds.

And better!

Imagine kidsquad taking care of each other. Alicia and Nick look after Chris and make sure he doesn’t go too close to the edge. Alicia looks after Nick, Nick looks after Alicia, Chris will throw a punch or put himself in danger for both of them just like he always does. And they go around and around in circles of saving each other’s asses, asking if the other is hurt, and saying “thank you” and that’s it. No “I care about X more than you,” no “you’re psychotic” no “I’m the leader here” bullshit - just the kidsquad caring for each other and making sure they all stay alive.

sometimes chris sits and looks at his hands and thinks about how easy killing is. he doesn’t have callouses and his skin, while rougher than it was, is still smooth, soft with youth. there are things he does now, almost every day. he wakes up when the sun rises. he knows how to dig in the woods for a place to shit. he can start a fire and count the seconds to know when the water’s boiled long enough to drink. he knows how to swing a weapon so it hits between the vertebrae in the back of the neck and doesn’t get stuck. 

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alicia gets real quiet sometimes, curled up and staring into their tiny fire. sometimes she won’t eat unless he hand feeds her, coaxes little slivers of whenever she caught her her knots and her fishing line or him and his slingshot, nudging them between her lips and how she chews, automatic. he talks to her continuously when she stops blinking and cups his hand over her face to shield her from the dust.

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it’s like everyone finally caught up, nick says one day, while they’re standing ankle deep in a stream. everyone’s finally caught up with me. the water is cold and bracing and numbing, and it feels good trickling past in a sluggish current. alicia is up a tree just behind them, mapping out a route. nick says it again, finally finally. he doesn't seem to care chris doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

++

nick wanders. the first time they’d woke and he wasn’t there alicia had lain down in the scrabbly crabgrass and refused to move for a day. on the second day he carried her, staggering faintly. on the third nick appeared from a shadow and grinned at them and shrugged when alicia slapped him across the face. 

now he comes and he goes and alicia’s face doesn’t flicker much, anymore. sometimes chris likes it, because she leans her head on his shoulder and says his name more gently and sighs and pets his hair while he sleeps in her lap. sometimes chris wishes fiercely nick won’t ever come back.

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alicia kills a little girl with pink ribbons in her pigtails and stops talking altogether. chris knows its bad when nick stops wandering, but there’s nothing else to do except give her back her knife from where he picked it up from the dirt and wiped the blood off on the leg of his jeans. 

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nick slings an arm around chris’s shoulder when they walk next to each other. when food is hard to find he gives chris extra from his portion--they both give alicia extra when she’s not looking. he calls chris baby brother and then laughs like they’re both in on the joke.

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chris isn’t paying attention when the walker corners him, half naked and without a weapon, piss in his shoe from when he jerked and whipped around at the noise. he’s vaguely annoyed he’s going to die with his dick out, but he thinks it might make nick smile. 

alicia beats the walkers head in with a handheld rock. theres viscera across her face, on her lips. she wipes the back of her hand across her face and spits by the side of the road. chris cleans himself up and they hold hands back to camp. 

they sleep all three of them spooned together and chris’s thoughts churn only sluggishly with thoughts of what her throat would feel like under his fingers and how much more of her attention he’d get if he slit nick’s throat while she sleeps. nick pats his hip and tells him to give it a rest for once, knowing little snicker under his voice. alicia hums from within the circle of his arms and sets her teeth above the pulsepoint in his wrist.