blinded by light

His eyes widen. Pregnant? For a moment he wondered if it was his. But the look in her eyes already answered that question. Nathan rubbed a hand over his face in disbelief; he was a father. That’s not something he ever imagined he’d say about himself. He loved children, he was just always too busy to have a flourishing relationship with anyone because of work. When the outbreak hit, he knew having a family was not something that would ever happen. Nathan was conflicted. He didn’t know whether to be selfishly happy, or sad because his child will have to live in a world where they were constantly hunted by the undead.

He kept looking between the baby items that remained in the aisle and Claire’s eyes in disbelief. “I’m….a.. father?” he finally spat out the words disbelief tainting them. This had to be a drunken dream. Tears began burning at the corner of his eyes. Whether he felt sad or happy… he didn’t get to choose whether that’s something he wanted or not. It had already happened and he just didn’t know about it until now.

“How old..is he?” he assumed it was a boy because subconsciously that’s what he had hoped for.

she watched his reaction, carefully ; fearfully. “i couldn’t tell you because...” she didn’t really have a reason. only an excuse. “well because we’d agreed on ‘no strings attached.’” it was a poor excuse, she always knew that. but having it around to save her from guilt eating her alive was better than nothing. “it’s a girl, actually. her name is rena...only a few months old still. three, i think. i’m awful with keeping track of the days.”

she tried to think of other things to say that would ease his mind somehow. “she’s safe. we have a group a few blocks away. they’re all good people, and the walls keep us relatively protected... i can... take you there. if you want. if you want her in your life.” she only mentioned it because he had every right to be a father to rena, but if he declined, it would make little difference in the child’s life. it would certainly make raising her easier, but the two of them had managed thus far.

“W-with a group. Now they’re gone.” She said simply, hoping she wouldn’t have to elaborate. She wouldn’t have left those people - her friends - willingly. The truth was, there had been nothing of them left to leave. She might have hunted down their shells, their greyed eyes, but for what purpose? Rose closed her eyes for a few seconds, and then opened them, fiddling with the wrapper in her hands.

Rose hesitated, unsure how to respond. Part of her thought it was a trap, was ‘too good to be true.’ The other part was still hungry, thirsty, and exhausted. She was quiet, gaze flickering up at intervals. “I think … that’s too generous. You don’t owe m-me anything. I’m n-not good for - anything.”

“oh. i’m sorry for asking.” she didn’t want to pry any further. she didn’t know what the girl’s relationship with them might have been, how treasured they were to her, or if they simply up and left or died. whatever the case, the vague response made it clear that it was not something she wanted to discuss. “sweetheart, don’t say that. i know we just met and all, but i want to help you. i wouldn’t be able to live with myself if i just left you to your own to struggle.”

Mitchell caught a glimpse of the tears that began forming in her eyes. He was never able to resist her eyes, blue like the ocean and filled with hope and love. His heart ached at the sight of Claire trying to conceal herself from him. His initial reaction was to feel for the flask he had put in his back jean pocket in the hopes more alcohol could numb his pain like it had for the last months. But Mitchell stopped himself. She was right. He was being an asshole.

Mitchell sighed and shook his head. She couldn’t see him but he knew she hadn’t left yet. He stood up leaving everything behind and began looking between the aisle for her. Once he spotted her, he stood at the edge of the aisle eyeing her. But this time not with anger, but with understanding. His features had softened and although he probably looked tired, he was one step closer to himself.

“Claire..” he began his voice soft with sorrow and concern for the woman he had once loved. “I’m sorry. I had no right…” his voice felt rough coming out of his throat. this was the first human interaction he had in months since escaping the Rogue Group and he was a little rusty. “I never realized, how much you meant to me until you were gone. I blamed everyone I could for your disappearance.” He was afraid to move closer, so he remained still. “I blamed the undead, the rogue leader and even myself.” His lip quivered but he bit back the tears. “I spent every day wondering how things would have been if I had told you, how I felt for you.” Mitchell began closing the distance between them. His hand reaching for her arm until he noticed which aisle they were standing in.

she hesitated, but she was unsure of why. just leave, she kept telling herself. but before she could take a step towards the door, he appeared again. his confession only filled her with more pain — only made her feel more guilty. she almost didn’t believe him until he stepped closer. her head had always been a mess when she thought about him; she knew she shouldn’t have been falling in love with him, she knew he’d never feel the same way. it turns out, she knew nothing, and now she was full of regret. but she shook that out of her mind for now. she went to great lengths to fall out of love with him when she’d left. 

“nathan...” she said his first name again in the softest way possible, knowing that nothing she could say or do would prepare him for her own confession. “i didn’t leave because i was looking out for my own. if i had a choice, honestly... i would have stayed.” hesitation again. “nathan, i left because i was pregnant.”

so c u r i o u s, this one. she had something in her EYES. something he hadn’t s e e n since his mom died. unfortunately, that felt like YEARS ago — and alix seemed to have lost the ability to decode whether it was COMPASSION or t r i c k e r y now. though that might’ve been thanks to his own PARANOIA. ❛ is your camp back at cheyenne? …just because… mine is, too. ❜ he’d had that happen a couple times to him before cheyenne… people a s k i n g where his camp was because they’d WANTED to join. it was always so HARD for alix to answer and he didn’t want to put her through something like that.

hearing that the boy was already part of a camp gave claire some sense of relief - he was safe, and more than likely well off. “yes, it is! we’re more towards the outskirts of the city, though - i’m in the retirement home.” claire offered a genuine smile. “which one do you come from?” she asked only out of curiosity; she theorized that he was part of the camps that she didn’t visit often, as this is her first time meeting him. “if you don’t mind me asking.” 

His face remained calm but a storm brewed within his chest. “you don’t have to explain yourself.” he shook his head, lifting his eyebrows to mimic an attitude of carelessness. He was being a little bitch. But his whole life had changed the moment she had left. Now he was nothing but a drunken fool and perhaps he wasn’t just angry with Claire, but ashamed of who he had become.

The mention of his first name took him by surprise. People rarely called him that, and aside from his parents, she was the first in a long time. “They weren’t good people” he spoke trying to get himself to understand her situation. “You were just looking out for yourself”. He lowered his weapon and leaned it against the shelf. Bending down he began picking up the food that had dropped to the ground and slipping it into the backpack. “This is what the world has come to. We all look out for our own in the end.” there was bitterness in his voice. Even though he tried to cover it up, his words almost came out harshly. “You don’t owe me anything”

his every word hurt. she had to keep telling herself that he had every right to be angry at her right now. yet at the same time, she couldn’t understand it. this wasn’t mitchell. this wasn’t the man she spent sleepless nights with. this wasn’t the man she fell in love with. this was not the father of her child. that man was kind, understanding; the one in front of her had gone cold. “why are you being such an asshole? i was nothing more than a quick fuck to you.” her temper had gotten the better of her. it was certainly rare, perhaps because there were so many more emotions she felt than just anger. “i was not just looking out for myself. it is so much more than that, and if you would just fucking listen to me...” 

she trailed off and there were tears in her eyes now, as she watched him turn away from her to pick up the food that he’d dropped. not wanting him to see her cry, she abruptly left him there, making way to the baby section. she cried, but silently - maybe he would just leave. maybe it was better if he wasn’t in rena’s life. she hastily stuffed everything on the shelves into her backpack: diapers, formula. there wasn’t much, but it was something. when she cleared the shelf, she eyed the door. maybe it was better if she left first. he made it clear that he didn’t want to listen to anything that she had to say.

The food he had greedily stocked up in his hands dropped to the floor. In an instant he had his shotgun back in his hands pointed towards the door, a habit he had picked up over the years; never be too careful. A small figure came into view, his vision adjusting to her silhouette. 

What he first noticed was the gun pointed right at him. His gaze slowly slid down the weapon and onto the woman’s face. He wondered if the alcohol he had on his way here was playing tricks on him. He wasn’t drunk, tipsy maybe but definitely not in the hallucination phase. 

Mitchell’s grip instinctively tightened around his weapon his jaw clenching and unclenching as if he was holding on to too many repressed emotions. Her voice was the confirmation he needed. This was Claire.

Claire the woman he had spent months believing had been fed to the undead or tortured to death even. Claire… the one who had given him hope and then taken it away. There was so much he wanted to say, but his words tangled up in his throat and for a while, he just stared. His mind adapting memories to what had actually happened.

Claire hadn’t been forced to leave. She wasn’t dead… roaming the streets as an undead somewhere… she hadn’t been tortured. No. Claire had left. She had willingly left him behind. 

Micthell remained calm but every muscle in his body tensed at the sight of Claire. The only words coming out of his mouth being:

 “No.”

she lowered her gun, staring at the man in front of her for another few moments. something about him had changed - that much was obvious. she couldn’t quite put her finger on whatever it was though.

his response confused her. no? no what? “nathan...” she dared to call him by his first name as she took a step forward. a loss for words was an understatement for how she felt. does she drop the bomb on him now? does she try to make small talk as if they were once more acquaintances? “look, i...” a deep breath. she can feel her hands shaking so her grip on the pistol tightened. “i didn’t want to leave. i just... couldn’t stay there,” she wasn’t really sure why she was explaining herself. for all she knew, he probably didn’t even care that she was gone - she certainly didn’t expect him to either, given that they agreed that whatever it was that they had previously had no strings attached. no feelings involved.

The food he had greedily stocked up in his hands dropped to the floor. In an instant he had his shotgun back in his hands pointed towards the door, a habit he had picked up over the years; never be too careful. A small figure came into view, his vision adjusting to her silhouette. 

What he first noticed was the gun pointed right at him. His gaze slowly slid down the weapon and onto the woman’s face. He wondered if the alcohol he had on his way here was playing tricks on him. He wasn’t drunk, tipsy maybe but definitely not in the hallucination phase. 

Mitchell’s grip instinctively tightened around his weapon his jaw clenching and unclenching as if he was holding on to too many repressed emotions. Her voice was the confirmation he needed. This was Claire.

Claire the woman he had spent months believing had been fed to the undead or tortured to death even. Claire… the one who had given him hope and then taken it away. There was so much he wanted to say, but his words tangled up in his throat and for a while, he just stared. His mind adapting memories to what had actually happened.

Claire hadn’t been forced to leave. She wasn’t dead… roaming the streets as an undead somewhere… she hadn’t been tortured. No. Claire had left. She had willingly left him behind. 

Micthell remained calm but every muscle in his body tensed at the sight of Claire. The only words coming out of his mouth being:

 “No.”

she lowered her gun, staring at the man in front of her for another few moments. something about him had changed - that much was obvious. she couldn’t quite put her finger on whatever it was though.

his response confused her. no? no what? “nathan...” she dared to call him by his first name as she took a step forward. a loss for words was an understatement for how she felt. does she drop the bomb on him now? does she try to make small talk as if they were once more acquaintances? “look, i...” a deep breath. she can feel her hands shaking so her grip on the pistol tightened. “i didn’t want to leave. i just... couldn’t stay there,” she wasn’t really sure why she was explaining herself. for all she knew, he probably didn’t even care that she was gone - she certainly didn’t expect him to either, given that they agreed that whatever it was that they had previously had no strings attached. no feelings involved.

NOT A THREAT — alix was listening to his instincts and that’s e x a c t l y what they were telling him. curious eyes examined what simply looked to be a concerned woman. in return, he kept an open mind and a concerned expression of his own. ❛ alix. ❜ he replied, habitually glancing over to his telescope leaning against a tree nearby a beat after. the object seemed so RARE now… considering what he had to do to get it. to k e e p it. ❛ i’ve, uh… been okay so far. no walkers. ❜ he replied softly, trying to reassure her. ❛ what are you doin’ out here? ❜ 

“good,” she smiled. she didn’t want to think of what this child might have seen, might have done to keep alive. it was natural now - humans adapt to survive, and nowadays, to survive meant violence. yet the thought of children having to do so just didn’t sit right with her. “just on my way back to my camp,” she responded with a soft smile.

“boning anyone has been the last thing on my mind. look what it got me last time.” still, she can’t deny that there are very attractive survivors in the city. “on looks alone, i have to say skyler is someone i wouldn’t mind waking up next to after a drunken night of accidents. jack definitely seems like he’d know what the hell he’s doing, so i’ll say him too.” 

“i had actually originally wanted to name her irene, which means peace. she is where i find peace in this world now… but i ended up giving it a bit of a unique twist.” unknown to claire, the name rena alone means ‘melody’ in hebrew.

she’s definitely had her fair share of rodents. “when i was alone, before i found whispering chase, there was a few days i went only eating mice and rats… it definitely did not sit well, especially on top of the awful morning sickness i was having.”

“my good ol’ hunting knife, of course.” the reality was that claire is terrible with guns. her aim wasn’t the best, and she usually only carries it around for precaution. “they’re nice and quiet, so if there’s only a few around, i wouldn’t have to worry about attracting more when i get rid of them.”

“love… still exists. it always will. i think most people have just closed themselves off in this world, especially out of fear of losing someone. for me, i’ll always believe that there will be love in the world.”