the only way out is through.

location: memorial wall tag: @xrooneyx​

Quincy had the memorial wall on his mind after he was reminded of its existence that morning. It hadn’t occurred to him before, his mind preoccupied with other dealings, but he now wondered if he would recognize any of the names. He had grown up in Colorado, close to where Sanctuary had been cordoned off. Years away from the place did not lend its hand in keeping in touch with anyone he knew but he supposed he’d still recognize or be reminded if names popped up. He was surprised to see Rooney there, pausing a few feet away from her.  

“Anyone you know up there?”

Rooney visited the the wall almost every day. Back when she’d first arrived, she’d put Beanie’s name on it. Beanie hadn’t actually been apart of the Sanctuary, but she’d come so close. It killed Rooney to think about how close Beanie had been to living. If she’d just made it to the Sanctuary. If Rooney had just made them keep going. A few more days and she would probably still have her sister.

Six months since Quincy had come back into her life and ever since she’d struggled with their relationship. Her acceptance of him was slow, but sure. The years of her hating him had melted with each interaction, despite her telling herself she wouldn’t let that happen. Quincy had been so patient and understanding that it was difficult to go on hating him.

If he’d approached her at the wall six months ago, she would have walked away. Or yelled at him. And although there was still a bit of coldness on her part, the air between them was considerably less contentious. “Actually yeah.” She adjusted Maizie on her hip as she stepped forward and pointed to a name that read ‘Nikita Shaw’. “We were in a home together a few years before all of this happened.”

Niki had been a friend to her while they’d been in the same home. After going to different placements they fell out contact. It always seemed to happen that way. “How about you?”

“Sorry, Rooney.” Phaedra followed Sydney to the other woman, who seemed to be the most fascinating person for the threenager. She wasn’t fast enough to grab her before the little girl saddled up to the bench to try and peer at the book Rooney was reading, as if she’d actually be able to understand the words. “She say you from across the courtyard and moved faster than I thought she would.” There was a soft smile that accompanied her words, but it was more one to hide her sadness.

Some days were good, but others – like today – when Phaedra was forced to remember her newfound responsibility with two children and next to no idea what she was doing. She wanted to be angry at River, but what good would anger towards a dead missing man do? Reaching down to Syd, she wrapped her arms around the girl who still seemed so small for her age, but that’s what happened when you lived in a world that was barely surviving. “Gone Girl?” She arched a brow, finally noticing the cover of the book the other had been reading. “Where did you manage to find that one?”

Rooney had always harbored a soft spot for kids. Having raised them since she was incredibly young herself, it was almost second nature. “No sorry needed, Phaedra.” She shrugged her shoulders and looked up at the pair. It was difficult to gauge how people felt purely on looks alone, but Rooney reckoned that Phaedra was probably exhausted. Taking care of kids wasn’t easy. It was that special sort of draining that was equal parts physical and emotional. She tapped the open spot next to her, gesturing for them to take a seat. 

The time after Beanie’s death had been awful for Rooney. She had to get used to not having her sister around while also not having anyone to take care of. With Maizie now, she felt like she was stepping back into old shoes. She knew that Beanie would have wanted her to step up for Maizie, and that’s what she’d spent the past six months doing.

“Not if the zombies kill me first,” he informed Rooney, his smile brightening just a fraction. There was never a moment where he wasn’t genuinely happy to see her. In other words, he liked having her around. 

“Your hair… yeah.” Words couldn’t quite describe. The way the sun’s rays hit her, the way the beams filtered through her hair with an orange glow- she looked angelic. But Faust just cleared his throat awkwardly and gestured for her to sit down next to him.  He huffed out a short laugh at her question, “Up to no good, apparently.” 

As he spoke, he ground the cigarette into the dirt and snuffed it out. He didn’t want to keep smoking around her if she didn’t like it. 

“I’m just… I don’t know. Thinking, I guess.”

Rooney put her hands behind her, legs stretched out in front of her. She let her head fall back, smiling as she soaked up the sun. Her eyes closed as Faust spoke, but she was still very much listening. "Thinking? That’s pretty dangerous.” Eyes still closed, she smiled. “What kind of thoughts are you thinking?”

“ Emma is a wonderful story- but Pride and Prejudice was one of my favorites growing up. ” She’d admired Elizabeth’s strong will- and her relationship with Mr. Darcy. “ I don’t have Pride and Prejudice yet- but I’m sure if I asked, Faust would find it for me. ” Her old student truly was one of the kindest people she had ever met, and she could not have been prouder of him. “ If you’d like, you’re more than welcome to read Emma at any time. Or any of my books, really. “

It was hard to not want to just walk around Sanctuary and enjoy the sunlight. The spring had been wet, the ground soaked from the massive amount of snow left over from the Winter, and it was nice to walk around and not feel wet socks sloshing around wet shoes.

It was also nice enough that Bobbi felt she needed to take a day off to read in the sun for a while- and it seemed as though she wasn’t the only one to have that idea.

“ Rooney! ” Bobbi set herself on the bench next to the younger girl. “ I’m not here on business- just… doing the same. ” She lifted her book, Emma by Jane Austen.

Rooney smiled quickly at Bobbi as she sat down next to her on the bench. It was days like these, when the air was warm and the birds were chirping, where if you tried hard enough you could forget the circumstances under which they were living. Of course, it wasn’t a sustainable thought process. More like a few seconds where you zoned out from everything entirely. Rooney noted the title and then lifted her own book, giving it a gentle wag in Bobbi’s direction. “Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn.” 

She closed the book, marking the page with her finger. “I’ve not read ‘Emma’. We were supposed to read ‘Pride and Prejudice’ in school but I skipped class so I missed out.”

an imperfect actor

Starter: open

Location: a grassy patch near the burned down house of 103

Summer. The perfect time for…well, not much, really- in Faust’s opinion. The only thing Summer was good for was wearing ugly button-up shirts. Unfortunately he only had one of those left; he suspected that every bisexual, enby, and middle-aged father had snatched up all the available Hawaiian shirts the minute the apocalypse hit. 

Well, he’d wear the hell out of his shirt anyway. It already had a few holes in it, but it was nothing Bobbi wouldn’t be able to patch up. Probably.

Speaking of, Bobbi was the only reason he was currently sitting outside “soaking up the sun”. She’d told him he was looking a little too pale. He’d made some snarky comment in response that had earned him a thwap to the side of the head- he couldn’t quite remember what he’d said. But it’d been enough to get him off his ass and get him outdoors. 

He was sitting on a patch of green grass that had sprung up from the ashes (literally), just next to 103. The grass was a bright patch of green amidst the ashy, grey, desolate reminder of what had happened several months prior.  Hey, where else were you gonna kick back and relax?  Faust cracked an eye open when a shadow fell over him, squinting up to try and see who was blocking his sun. He took the cigarette out of his mouth (one of the last he had stashed) and said on an exhale of smoke and a forced smile:  “Hey.” 

“You know cigarettes will kill you.” She joked, staring down at him. It was warm outside, and as Rooney stood over Faust she could feel the hot sun beating down on her back. “Does it look like my hair is on fire from the angle you’re at?” Rooney lingered a few seconds to make sure Faust had adequate time to answer her question, and then she plopped down on the open patch of grass next to him.

She knew that things hadn’t been so bright for Faust the past few months. Rooney understood and wouldn’t push him on it. Time had passed since the horde had passed through and Rooney still felt like she should have done more for the people in her group. “What’cha up to?”

Rooney’s last run had been, for the most part, absolutely useless. She’d stumbled upon the ruins of an old house. one that had most certainly started it’s journey towards desecration. Rooney could tell that kids had probably used it as some sort of hangout before the world went to shit. Inside she found three books and a wallet made out of electrical tape. Whoever had made it had put googly eyes on the front and a dick sticker on the back. There was no real need for it, but Rooney took it anyhow. You never knew when a googly-eyed electrical tape wallet with a dick sticker would come in handy.

She hadn’t even really paused to get a look at which books she picked up. Instead she shoved them all into her bag and kept on moving. The only real substantial find of the day was a solar charger.  Coming by new books was pretty easy at the start of things, but as time passed it just got harder and harder. Until finding a good one was almost like finding a unicorn. Which was why Rooney felt like she’d hit the jackpot when she realized how great of a find she’d actually managed to get her hands on. ‘Gone Girl’ by Gillian Flynn had been one of her most favorite books and definitely was at the top of her list of books she wanted to find. 

In the chaos of rebuilding the Sanctuary and taking care of a new baby, the book had remained on her bedside table for a bit. Today, however, just so happened to be the perfect day for her to crack it back open and rediscover the story of Amy Dunne. When she saw the shadow of a person approach her, she pulled the book down from her face and looked upwards. “What ya need?”

The group that Rooney was with during the horde event was pretty much entirely killed off. Rooney did her best to keep them safe, but panicking amongst the chaos got the best of some during everything. The last few people she was with ended up being a single mother with her quite newborn infant. She also had a few younger children as well. The horde started to overtake them and the mother, knowing Rooney had a better chance of getting away with the baby, handed the baby over and told her to keep going.

The mother and the kids didn’t make it, but Rooney was able to make it with the baby. My thought back during the event was that Rooney (and Quincy by extension because at this point they’d met up with each other, though they were separated during the horde event) would take care of the baby, being that the mother had no other relatives and Rooney has a history in relation to raising kids.

By far the most surprising moment was the hug. He almost didn’t know what to do with himself; he hadn’t thought Rooney the type to show any affection. It took him a moment to return the gesture, arms raising almost awkwardly before wrapping around her small form.

He felt like they were having a moment- he didn’t know how to describe it beyond that. They’d barely known each other before, yet they’d been inexplicably linked. And now they knew, and it changed things.

Faust couldn’t say he minded.

He stayed quiet for a moment as Rooney got lost in the world of the photo. It happened to him, too, sometimes; when he took the time to look at family photos, it was as if your mind dwelled in that captured moment. A better time. A better place. Frozen forever on paper.

“You should tell me more about them,” Faust said, “Your family. I…understand what it’s like to miss them.”

“And, hey,” he added, “maybe you have some embarrassing stories about my sister that I haven’t heard yet.” 

 Rooney looked at Faust again, smiling softly. A sad sort of smile. Immediately she looked back down to the picture, still clutched onto it like it was a blanket.  “I only knew them until I was eight.” It was an odd statement, but true. Her relationship to her older siblings had ended at eight years old, but she’d clung to their memory for years. She’d wished constantly that they would somehow pop back into her life. They never had, and now they never would. The odds of them being alive were so slim that you probably couldn’t even put a number to it. “We went into foster care after that, and then I never saw them again. But I wrote all of my memories of them down in a bunch of journals so I wouldn’t forget.”

“I remember Riley bringing home a birthday cake for my seventh birthday which I didn’t think would happen because they cost money we definitely didn’t have.” Riley had probably taken it from a grocery store freezer. Rooney had done that for Beanie a number of times. “We were sitting at the kitchen table and Wes went to carry it from the counter to the table and he tripped. So the cake went flying across the kitchen and smacked against the wall. It was like out of a movie.” Rooney had felt a sliver of disappointment at the time, but only for a second. Then she burst into a fit of laughter so hard that she was crying. 

The thing she’d missed most after being taken away with Beanie was the feeling of togetherness. Kids are pretty good at reading situations, and Rooney has always been acutely aware that she’d been unwanted at her foster homes. Home was shit, but they’d all been together. They’d protected one another. “I think it was the fact that I knew they were out there that made me such an angry kid. I mean- that, but also the fact that I knew no one gave a shit about me. Which made it even more difficult to understand why Beanie and I couldn’t be with them.” It was difficult to understand as a young child, though she came to learn as she got older. It was money, of course.

“potentially.” phoebe sighed, breath forming a small cloud in the cold morning air. “it’s worked on beings much smarter than them before.” they would need supplies. chemicals. a whole cocktail of them to make an explosion that could draw them out of the town.

“know anyone who might have alcohol in their room?” preferably someone in the house of the roof they were on, but phoebe was sure she could stealth her way to another house… somehow.

rooney had to think about it for a moment. she knew a particular person in her building had alcohol. some of them were souvenir bottles that he kept, but others were just things he must have collected along the way since everything went to shit. as far as the building they were on...well she had no idea about that. “there’s a guy from my building...mr. demchak. he has a stash of alcohol,” she told her. “some of them are really expensive, but if it’s to get the horde to move on...”

“good.” any number less of the horde was a good thing- even if it was just one or two. that could potentially be enough to tip the balance in their favor. “they’ve thinned out some- i’m sure that a few of those who survived have been picking them off or leading them away.” phoebe looked pensively towards the horizon, watching as the clouds moved ever peacefully.

“we need to get them out.” god this was going to be a bad idea. “we need something that gets their attention- and gets them far far way.” basically they needed a distraction, and these weren’t trained guards for a diplomat, they wouldn’t be distracted by things suspiciously out of place. she needed to think… bigger. “you ever make a molotov?”

the horde not moving on was about the worst case scenario. it’d mean that whoever down in the bunker would be trapped there. or maybe worse, they’d come out and most would die to the horde. so getting them away from the sanctuary was an an absolute must. and the second phoebe mentioned molotov, a picture of a molotov cocktail being thrown to divert the horde came to mind.

When she said it out loud, in that heartbreakingly soft voice, it almost broke him. 

He’d hoped they’d have something in common to talk about, but he hadn’t expected it to be something like this. He could see how wrecked she felt over the loss of her siblings, and he could empathise. He could picture exactly what was running through her head right now.

“From what I remember,” he started, “Lena really loved him. She really loved his siblings too. Always wanted me to meet them.”

He gauged her reaction to this carefully, before continuing, “I guess it’s about time we did meet. Didn’t think it’d be like this though.”

Faust didn’t always know how best to deal with heavy emotional situations, so he hoped he was being tactful. He gave her a small smile, which he needed to convey a lot of things; that he understood how she must be feeling, and that he was there for her if she wanted to talk about it- that he’d lost his family too, and it was the hardest thing, but that it’s always okay to be vulnerable regarding this sort of thing.

He wanted to wipe her tears away. He hated to see her hurting. But he couldn’t overstep his boundaries.

Instead, he silently reached for Lena’s book and pressed it into Rooney’s hands.

“You can keep this,” he murmured, “I think there are more photos in there.”

Rooney looked up at him, tears spilling over, and nodded with a smile. “Yeah, it was about time.” She leaned in and hugged him, still holding onto the photo. Such a show of affection was rare for her, but she felt it was needed. When she pulled back she wiped the tears from her face and looked back at the photo. What were the odds of this happening? They had to be slim- beyond slim. Though the odds of the apocalypse happening had to be slim as well. She hadn’t been given the opportunity to really talk about her family in years. Not on her terms, at least. There were times when she had to go to court here and there, but no one had ever actually cared to ask her about them. It was always just her and Beanie. Beanie asking and Rooney telling. 

“That’s uh,” She sniffled and wiped her face again before pointing at Riley. “- that’s Riley.” Her finger drifted towards Wes. “And that’s Wesley. I called him Wes though. Or Wessy- which was stupid, I know.” Then she looked at herself, and at Quincy. All of them frozen in a happy embrace that wouldn’t last all that long beyond that picture. Finally she pointed Quincy, and herself who was balancing on his shoulders. “And that’s me and Quincy.” It was almost as though she’d momentarily disappeared into the picture, reveling in the image of her siblings. “I’d forgotten what they looked like,” She looked up at him. “That’s fucked up isn’t it? I’d forgotten what Riley and Wes looked like. They’re all probably dead by now.”

“This was taken before Beanie came along.” Beanie marked the fifth of their group. Of their siblings, Rooney had been the only one who’d spent her years growing up with Beanie. It dawned on her that he’d have no clue as to who Beanie was she clarified. “Beanie was our youngest sibling. She had this mop of red hair and freckles.” Rooney, realizing that she’d been rambling about her siblings, stopped. “You probably don’t care, sorry. It’s just- wow. I wasn’t expecting this.”

immediately seeing the girl, phoebe let her rifle point downwards as she carefully crept closer to hoist the girl into a better position. one hand lingered on the girl’s shoulder, ensuring that she wouldn’t topple off of the slope of the roof.

“are you bitten.” dark eyes roamed her figure, searching for any sign of blood, any possible sign of infection. “are you hurt?” they would smell blood- like sharks, and phoebe didn’t want to see what they would do in order to reach the two.

“no,” she confirmed in a voice a bit stronger than before. “the blood is theirs. i killed a few after i got out of the air vent that i’ve been holed up in.” rooney took a second to right herself before saying anything else. she stared wide-eyed up at the sky, sucking in as much fresh air as possible. it wasn’t until now that she’d realized how stagnant the air in the dead vent must have been. as soon as she took a few deep breaths, the stench kicked in. 

she wanted to stand up and look over the edge to size up the size of the horde, but she wasn’t sure if that was wise. phoebe, who’d already been there, was probably best to ask first. “any of them moved on?”

     Dorian was well aware of the coming horde, he had been there, watching from the wall as Faust and Perry- well, Perry’s body, had arrived. The familiar rush of adrenaline he always got from life or death situations coursed through his veins. He knew full well that they didn’t have much time to prepare, the hoard was coming, whether they were ready or not. Dorian skirted along the outside walls of the Sanctuary, patrolling for anyone who may not have gotten in the bunker and was in need of protection. 

     When he circled back around he came up to the wall, staying concealed by the trees as he observed the girl trying to help people over the wall. “Stupid” He muttered to himself, knowing somewhere deep down that those people weren’t going to make it whether she had helped or not. He had a decision to make. His eyes went to the top of the wall, seeing the children standing there, their eyes welling with tears as they watched their parents struggling to scale the wall. “God fucking dammit,” Dorian mumbled under his breath, jogging away from the tree-line and up to the wall. 

     He could tell that the people were panicked, and if he wasn’t careful, the situation would spiral out of control. “Ok, we’re going to do this fast, and we’re going to do it in an orderly fashion. Anything you don’t absolutely need, drop it, the extra weight is going to hold you down.” The male spoke with purpose, his voice in full military mode, where it sounded more like he was barking out orders than anything. 

     He looked to Rooney, making sure that she was ready before getting down on one knee and boosting the first person up. As the first adult was pulled over the wall, he watched as the shambling figures drew closer and closer to their doorstep, one by one, slowly moving through the trees. He began boosting a second person up, his eyes locking with Rooney’s, “We’re running out of time.” He said, the look on his face was grim, and a seed of dread seemed to sit in the pit of his stomach as the full reality of the situation became apparent to him. 

How could this be their life? A question she’d ask herself on many occasions, but especially now as she watched a gaggle of children cry as their parents struggled to get up on top of the wall. They were pointing towards them at the base of the wall, but their eyes were wandering to the oncoming horse. Even at their young age they knew that meant trouble. Rooney knew the odds of getting them all out of this safe weren’t favorable. At least they’d managed to get all of the kids up and most of the parents. 

But it was Dorian’s warning that confirmed what she’d already been thinking. “Come up,” She yelled down to him. “We can both try to pull him up from here.” There was really no time to spare, not if they wanted a shot at trying to outrun the horde. If it was already threatening to overtake the Sanctuary then they couldn’t wait anymore. But they could try this last ditch effort to get the man up. But as she looked over his shoulder, she could see them. “Shit, come on. We really have to get going.”

Her sudden anger surprised him, to say the least. Faust’s eyes went round as he watched Rooney leap up from the bed and grab the photo- her movements had been so fast, she was practically a blur. He opened and closed his mouth uselessly, his hand half-raised as if to reach out to her.

It was a lot to process. Why would the photo matter to her? How had she recognized it on sight? His gaze flicked between her and the picture in question; his confusion was apparent in his eyes.

“This was my sister’s book,” he explained slowly, “And that’s a photo of her old boyfriend and his family. I completely forgot it was in there.” 

Faust stood up and pointed to the boy in the middle of the photograph, “That’s him.”

His gaze went to the girl on the boy’s shoulders. He hadn’t known much about the boyfriend’s family, and he couldn’t remember any names, but…

“Do you know the people in this photo?” he asked. He felt like he already knew what the answer was going to be but- no, that would be too much of a coincidence. 

Right?

Her heart was thumping in her chest. What the actual fuck was going on? It didn’t make sense until he mentioned his sister, and her boyfriend. Rooney remembered her. Or, at least, remembered Quincy talking about her. She remembered the photo being taken, remembered how happy all of them had been. She remembered the autumn leaves falling and the chill in the air. All in all, it was one of her happier childhood memories. Definitely one she’d held onto throughout the years. It seemed that Quincy’s girlfriend had held onto it too. Which brought them to now, sitting in her brother’s room after the world had ended. That photo had traveled through a lot. “That’s my family,” She said in an uncharacteristically soft voice. 

She drunk in Riley and Wes’s appearance. A small sound escaped her as she tried to keep herself from crying. When they got taken into foster care, she’d lost everything that had to do with them. No photos, nothing. After a while she started to forget what they looked like. Up until this moment they’d been encased in her mind, but it was like a frosted plate of glass had separated her from them. But as she stared at them everything came flooding back. It was like color came back to her memories. She could hear Riley’s laugh. Feel Wesley’s arms embraced around her in a tight hug. “Those are my siblings. I haven’t seen them since-” The words got caught in her throat which had suddenly dried out. Her eyes were starting to fill up with tears which threatened to spill over. She wanted to ask how much his sister had told him about her family and the absolute fucking train wreck it was. If he knew about Quincy and his prison time. For whatever reason, Quincy had never faded from her mind. Perhaps it was the coldness and anger she felt towards him which had cemented his image in her mind.