Lark
or
And silently loom the shadows of my past
Summary: Tracy loves to cause mischief - but this time she may have just gone too far
“Tracy!?”
Troy shouted his daughters name in the way all parents did when they suspected – more than that, were most certainly convinced, at least Troy was, that their kid had done something stupid. And as all kids that most certainly had done something stupid, Tracy did not answer her father's call. "God damn it," Troy muttered. Normally, he'd be charmed by Tracy's antics − but not when it put others in danger. And she most certainly had – put someone in danger.
She knew better than that. He had taught her better than that, god damn it. What the fuck had she been thinking?! Ok, no, that wasn’t any use, getting angry at her, he thought, as he ran restless fingers through his hair. First he needed to know exactly what had happened – though he could guess. Could guess that Tracy had dared Tom (Deborah’s son. Deborah, who was still standing right next to him, equal parts annoyed and worried) to do something dangerous. Because Tom hadn’t been seen for hours. By anyone, if Deborah was to be believed.
It wasn’t the first time those two had done stupid things – to everyone’s sorrow they seemed to have deemed this the most interesting game among themselves; daring one another to do dangerous, forbidden things. Troy had a feeling that Tracy had started it. Their whole dynamic reminded him uncomfortably of himself and Mike—
“Russell?!”
Russell, unlike Tracy, was quick to follow Troy’s call. Good man. He still wasn’t sure how he’d been lucky enough to find someone like him, but he was glad to. Russell was Troy’s second in command, his most trusted fighter. And he’d earned that title over and over again. Their friendship ran deep – as it tended to do when you’d saved their life and they’d saved yours, over and over again.
Russell came over, his expression telling Troy he was expecting to receive orders. There was a certain tone Troy used when he went into leader mode.
“Any chance you seen Tom?” Troy asked without much hope and Russell shook slowly his head, his eyes sweeping the area. “No,” he said slowly and then, as Troy expected of him, his mind went where Troy’s was, “Tracy…?”
The question didn’t even need asking in its entirety. Troy nodded swiftly.
“We think so. She’s also nowhere to be found.”
Russell didn’t hesitate, radio-ing the rest of their men, urgently.
“We’ll find him,” Troy assured Deborah. She nodded, though didn’t go without a muttered,
“When that boy gets home…”
Troy took this as a good sign. If she could threaten her son, she wasn’t as worried as he’d feared. He, himself, on the other hand, had a very bad feeling about this. Tracy making herself scarce like this meant she knew this one was bad. Or – she was with Tom. On whatever ill-advised adventure they’d cooked up.
And he didn’t know which one to hope for.
They did end up finding Tracy pretty quickly. And it turned out all his instincts had been right and she had done something very stupid. Troy breathed through the urge to grab and shake her, shout at her until she understood what it was their childish games had ended up.
But by the way she looked at him, head tilted towards the ground, her eyes flicking up just for moments at time, looking pointedly away when he caught her gaze, he knew she knew she’d fucked up.
“Where could he have gone?” he pressed out instead, focused on finding Tom, who she’d dared to go outside the fence.
Alone.
He’d made sure all kids were well-trained – but even so, they were not used to being out on their own. No way to tell they wouldn’t panic or freeze in the face of danger. And though for Troy it was second nature to be outside, he knew it wasn’t for the kids. Even if they’d seen walkers up close, he’d also made sure they knew them, knew how they moved, how to incapacitate them, it was still different when they weren’t chained up. When there weren’t adults around.
“Fucking hell, Trace,” he growled – the only way he allowed himself to show his anger – and she shrank back. “Where do I find him?!”
“I… I don’t know…” she finally whispered her response.
God damn it.
God fucking damn it.
These childish fucking games. He’d known where they led to, he’d fucking known. Why hadn’t he put a stop to it sooner?!
He grimaced, wishing he could hit something. Tracy still looked at him with wide, guilty eyes. If they wouldn’t find Tom in time, it’d be on her conscience. He couldn’t let it.
“Let’s go!” he ground out, turning on his heels and stalking away, expecting both Russell and Tracy to follow.
He went for the dirt bikes. Tom probably didn’t get far, but they still had a lot of area to cover, and most of it wasn’t easily accessible by car – that had been by design. So their camp was well-hid.
“Is… Tom going to die?” his daughter asked, voice timid and almost inaudible. He grit his teeth.
“Not if I’ve got anything to say about it.”
And that was that.
Minutes later they were past the front gates, and they wouldn’t be the only ones, Russell had stayed back to organize a larger search party. But he couldn’t wait around for it, not with such a thing hanging over the conscience of his daughter. They needed to find Tom before something else did.
“Any idea where he could’ve gone?” he shouted over the engine noise over his shoulder. He felt her shake her head against his back. “Think, Trace! Anything you two talked about? Anything he said he was curious about?” He tried to jog her memory – if there even was one – while the world flew past them, his sharp eye sweeping the area, again and again – he wouldn’t want to miss anything.
Then, Tracy’s arms around his middle tightened, and he turned his focus back to her, just before she whispered a hesitant,
“Dad… the stream. I think he went to the stream…”
Troy had already turned the bike around, not waiting for her to finish the question, then relayed the information to Russell. Tracy’s grip on him was still tight, tight.
He started at the closest point to their camp, driving upstream. Tracy was leaning to the side, probably so she could watch their surroundings, too. Could catch sight of Tom, if there was any. Hopefully Tracy was right with her guess. Hopefully Tom hadn’t strayed too far.
“There!” Tracy’s trembling voice rang out – firmer now. Troy had already seen it, too, a little dam made out of stray branches in the stream. Something a kid would do. And a bit further away he could see a fresh path trampled into the undergrowth. He tucked his lips under his teeth, a subconscious gesture of concentration, and sped along that path—only to come to an abrupt stop when he saw two figures – fighting. The smaller one had to be Tom, or at least some other kid, not big enough to be an adult. The other was, though, the one pulling and dragging at Tom, while he tried to kick and bite this unknown figure.
So it wasn’t a walker then. A walker would’ve chomped down already. The unknown figure turned their head, just a quick look backwards, before trying to hurry Tom along even more insistently. And for a second Troy thought he knew that figure. Maybe it was the hair, or the build, or maybe the semblance of her profile…whatever it was, for a second he thought he’d seen a vision of his past. Or a nightmare.
For a second he’d thought this was Madison.
He used to see her in every flash of blonde hair, in every slender figure, in every blue-eyed woman… back then, when he’d barely survived her at the dam. He used to see her everywhere for years. But not for a while now. Not in the last few. Not since… Tracy?
But that couldn’t be. It couldn’t be because she was dead, his mind playing tricks on him again. He must’ve been more apprehensive than he’d thought about Tom vanishing like he had, why else would his mind show him a ghost of his past.
All of that only lasted for a second, a slight hesitation, then the gun was in his hand and a shot rang out.
The figure keeled over and Tom ran. Good boy. Tracy started to run, too, no doubt trying to get to Tom, but Troy caught up with her in long strides, putting a hand on her shoulder.
“Stay,” he hissed, and she nodded with wide eyes, chastised. That was why he didn’t want kids out alone, they weren’t yet able to adhere to all the rules, all those things that would keep them alive. Too easily distracted. He pressed a gun into her hand – no way to know if this woman had been alone and he’d be damned if he left his daughter unprotected. Then he ran towards Tom, towards this woman. Whatever she had planned with Tom, he had to know. Had to know if she’d acted alone. If they were in danger.
Tom ran towards him, too, and seconds later was wrapped around Troy’s legs.
“Go to Tracy,” Troy whispered, tone tense. He had no time to soothe him, though Tom looked like he needed it.
Later. There was time for this, later.
The woman was half-crawling, half-dragging herself away from Troy, leaving a bloody trail behind. He was able to block her path only moments later. That stopped her pitiful attempts to get away and she raised her head. His breath caught in his throat and the blood in his veins turned to ice.
“…Madison?” he whispered in a voice that didn’t sound like his.
“You?!” Her voice very much sounded like her. Angry and ready to fight. Though there was a slight tremor in it, too. And when she’d spoken he’d seen her bloody teeth, the blood welling in her mouth. He’d at least damaged the lungs. It wasn’t likely that she’d make it.
He knelt down, to her eye level.
“What the fuck are you doing, stealing kids?” he asked. She glared at him.
“As if… you haven’t done worse.” Her breathing was labored, and she ended up coughing after that sentence. It wracked her body and it looked like she’d lose her balance, fall. He caught her.
“In fact, I haven’t,” he informed her while his arms steadied her. Kids were off limits. Especially when they weren’t doing anything threatening. He couldn’t imagine that Tom had threatened her.
God, this felt unreal. Of course it did. He’d thought her dead. The nightmare of his past. But here she was, alive.
Dying.
He almost felt like moving to stop the bleeding. It wouldn’t help, though. Not for long.
What was she doing, stealing kids?! Was this the same Madison that had whacked him for… for what, actually? Being a perceived danger to her kids? Out of morality?
“… I thought I killed you.”
Of course she didn’t answer his question. Still playing her games, still trying to have the upper hand. Not this time, though. This time she’d lose. Her shirt was already soaked through.
She knew it, too. It was in her tone, still angry but now, now there was surrender in it, as well.
“Next time you’d best stay to make sure, huh? My ability to survive is unparalleled.”
“I will,” she whispered. He almost didn’t understand her, with how much she was coughing up blood. It wouldn’t take long now.
“Why did you try to take Tom? What do you do with the kids?” That was a guess, that she’d taken more. She hadn’t contradicted him on it before. And she didn’t now, either. Instead some of her fight returned and she hissed,
“Why do you care?!”
Hissed it like she didn’t believe he did, and blamed him for it. His lack of caring. He had no intention of getting drawn into her bullshit.
“Does it matter?” he asked pointedly. She was dying after all. He cared or he didn’t, it would be irrelevant to her in a few short minutes. He couldn’t help himself though and added, “Tell yourself… I’ll save them.”
She laughed, short and ugly and he smirked in return. It didn’t last for long because then she was coughing again. Longer this time. He waited for it to ease.
“What happens to them, Madison?” he asked again, serious now. Commanding. She felt her life drain from her. What would it matter if she told him, indeed. So she did, all the while telling herself he’d save those kids.
He’d saved this one from her, after all, hadn’t he.
-The end-
Or more like, the beginning. Of course Troy now sets his eyes on P.A.D.R.E., mobilizing his entire force to save the kids and their parents. And he gets a neat little compound out of it, too. The people from his past he'd run into doing that (e.g. Luciana, Daniel, ..?) could still be assholes to him, but this time most would get around to seeing he has changed. And/or they operate on the principle of 'better the devil you know'.
