fic: The Walking Dead
Title: And breath by breath subsiding
Author: jezebel_rising aka dragongirl16
Fandom: The Walking Dead
Disclaimer: not mine
Warnings: foul language
Summary: 2x12 fix it - aka how I'm starting my AU version of this show in my head.
The shack smelled like piss and blood. The damn kid just sat there, whimpering, blind and mute in the dark, like a broken animal, waiting for the kill. Shane dug his fingers into his cheeks, frozen, aching. This kid - this stupid, fucking punk kid - god. If this had been Before...
Shane closed his eyes. Listened. The sounds of the kid whimpering, the click of the handcuffs rattling behind him as he struggled. Shane could hear himself breathing, ragged, as broken inside as that kid was outside. He sounded...god. He sounded like one of those walkers, like he was already the walking dead.
The memory of Carl's face snatched at his already unsteady breath, the way the kid had come to him, so scared and shameful, but he'd still - Carl had still come to him. The tone of Lori's voice, her anguish, the sadness in her eyes. Rick's brittle edge as he talked about Dale. Shane hadn't seen Rick look like that since...since...
Since right after Carl's birth. Lori had hemorrhaged so much blood. Too much. And Shane - god. Shane had fucked off on a four day bender, leaving Rick to his new daddy bliss, coming back only after listening to the desperate voicemails Rick had left on his phone, each one more frantic than the last. By the time Shane had made it to the hospital, Rick had had that brittle edge, like he was halfway to breaking and knowing there was no one there to catch him should he fall. And the look on Rick's face when Shane stepped into that lobby...the look on Rick's face...
The door creaked. Shane felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. Boot heels made the floorboards thump, each step deliberate, stopping right behind Shane.
The silence stretched between them. Shane couldn't hear Rick breathing. All he could hear was the rush and thump of the blood in his heart, the ragged sound of agony in his throat. He was so damn tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of watching Rick make the wrong choice again and again. Tired of watching - tired of watching...
"I can't force you to come back," Rick sounded ragged, too, like he was close to broken, but how could he be, when everything he had was still whole? "I can't force you to come on home to us. You were right, you know. I needed to be a father to Carl. I was too wrapped up in everything else to see it. But you did."
Shane curled forward, eyes still pressed shut, fingers digging into his face. He felt like his skin was on fire, two sizes too small and still shrinking.
A single step. Shane could feel Rick's heat all along his back, even though they didn't touch.
"You think I don't listen, but I do. I've always listened, Shane. I know I failed you, getting hurt like I did, leaving you on your own. I'm sorry, Shane. I'm sorry."
Shane rocked, throat tight and aching. His skin crawled, prickling, like he had a fever, even though he felt so damn cold. Cold, all the time.
Alone.
"I ain't been good to you," Rick's voice broke. "I shoulda seen through your mask sooner. I mighta been hurt, trapped in that hospital like I was, but it was you who's been hurting all this time, ever since. You once told me that me an' Lori an' Carl were all that kept you on this earth. An' I been real blind, a real bastard, trying to take that away from you. It was wrong. I was wrong. An' I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for doing that to you, Shane."
Shane clawed at his face, slapping at his head, anything to make it hurt, hurt on the outside, instead of in. He heard Rick make a sound of pain, choked off, like a whimper.
"I need you here, Shane," it was said on a whisper. The words filled his ears like the sound of thunder. Everything else faded away, his ragged breath, his thundering heart. All went still.
"It's real goddamn selfish of me to ask this of you, but I need you, Shane. And," came a shaky breath that sounded like a sob. "I never did thank you. You saved my life, saved Lori an' Carl and kept them safe. Whatever happens," his voice broke again. "I should have said that to you long ago. Thank you, Shane. Thank you."
Shane curled forward until he couldn't anymore. Tiny, as small as he could, like he was five again and hiding in his closet until his daddy passed out and he could slip out the window and find Rick. Find Rick and be safe.
"I can't keep you here. I don't got the right to force you to stay, either. All I got is that we love you. I love you. I always have. An' if you leave us, if you go, I don't know if I'll ever heal from that. I'll get passed it. You know I'll have to. But that hole you'll leave, Shane, no one, nothin', will ever be able to fill it. Ever."
A breath. The sound of boots shifting on the boards.
"I'll be here, Shane. We'll be here, waiting, if you want to come home. But it has to be your choice. Not mine. So," another harsh breath, almost a sob. "We'll be waiting. For whatever you decide." Then he was gone, heat fading, door creaking shut.
They were waiting, he'd said. Waiting. For him. All he had to do...
All he had to do...
Shane opened his eyes. The kid was still frozen in front of him, cheeks wet, like he'd been crying, head bowed. If this had been Before, the thought returned to him. If this had been Before, Rick woulda been the one screaming and cussin' at the kid to get his head outta his ass for whatever dumbass thing they'd picked him up for. An' Shane. Shane would have...he would have been the one to find the kid, after, to listen to him talk it all through. Shane would have been the one telling the kid to keep his chin up.
That there was always hope. Even for people like him.
Like there had been for Shane.
His hands dropped, face and skull stinging. His skin felt strange, still, like he was shedding things piece by piece. He stood, watching the kid whimper and curl away. His knees popped, shoulders inching down inch by stuttering inch. It felt like weights were falling off him, the longer he stood.
The door was still open, His gun was still tucked into the small of his back. He could still kill the kid. He could frame it like he'd escaped, jumped Shane and the threat to them all would be eliminated. He could still lead Rick out into the woods. Rick's leadership would still be thrown into the question. Shane could...Shane could....
The door was open, creaking in the wind. There was nothing keeping him in the shed, nothing but himself and the dying whispers in his head.
Shane let out a breath, things settling in his gut, in his heart, falling together like the tumblers in a lock click, click, click.
He walked out into the sunlight, breath steady, rushing in his chest, freer than it had been in weeks. Rick and Lori were under the big tree, Carl between them, all of them looking up as one as he stepped clear of the shed, stepped clear of the shadows, the whispers, the blood and piss and the pain. He put on foot in front of the other, feeling fragile, feeling like his cracks were healing step by steady step.
Heading for home.
fin
"So hath it been, so be it;
For who shall live and flee it?
But look that no man see it
Or hear it unaware;
Lest all who love and choose him
See Love, and so refuse him;
For all who find him lose him,
But all have found him fair."
-Swinburne, last stanza from Before Dawn. For Shane.
Author: jezebel_rising aka dragongirl16
Fandom: The Walking Dead
Disclaimer: not mine
Warnings: foul language
Summary: 2x12 fix it - aka how I'm starting my AU version of this show in my head.
The shack smelled like piss and blood. The damn kid just sat there, whimpering, blind and mute in the dark, like a broken animal, waiting for the kill. Shane dug his fingers into his cheeks, frozen, aching. This kid - this stupid, fucking punk kid - god. If this had been Before...
Shane closed his eyes. Listened. The sounds of the kid whimpering, the click of the handcuffs rattling behind him as he struggled. Shane could hear himself breathing, ragged, as broken inside as that kid was outside. He sounded...god. He sounded like one of those walkers, like he was already the walking dead.
The memory of Carl's face snatched at his already unsteady breath, the way the kid had come to him, so scared and shameful, but he'd still - Carl had still come to him. The tone of Lori's voice, her anguish, the sadness in her eyes. Rick's brittle edge as he talked about Dale. Shane hadn't seen Rick look like that since...since...
Since right after Carl's birth. Lori had hemorrhaged so much blood. Too much. And Shane - god. Shane had fucked off on a four day bender, leaving Rick to his new daddy bliss, coming back only after listening to the desperate voicemails Rick had left on his phone, each one more frantic than the last. By the time Shane had made it to the hospital, Rick had had that brittle edge, like he was halfway to breaking and knowing there was no one there to catch him should he fall. And the look on Rick's face when Shane stepped into that lobby...the look on Rick's face...
The door creaked. Shane felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. Boot heels made the floorboards thump, each step deliberate, stopping right behind Shane.
The silence stretched between them. Shane couldn't hear Rick breathing. All he could hear was the rush and thump of the blood in his heart, the ragged sound of agony in his throat. He was so damn tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of watching Rick make the wrong choice again and again. Tired of watching - tired of watching...
"I can't force you to come back," Rick sounded ragged, too, like he was close to broken, but how could he be, when everything he had was still whole? "I can't force you to come on home to us. You were right, you know. I needed to be a father to Carl. I was too wrapped up in everything else to see it. But you did."
Shane curled forward, eyes still pressed shut, fingers digging into his face. He felt like his skin was on fire, two sizes too small and still shrinking.
A single step. Shane could feel Rick's heat all along his back, even though they didn't touch.
"You think I don't listen, but I do. I've always listened, Shane. I know I failed you, getting hurt like I did, leaving you on your own. I'm sorry, Shane. I'm sorry."
Shane rocked, throat tight and aching. His skin crawled, prickling, like he had a fever, even though he felt so damn cold. Cold, all the time.
Alone.
"I ain't been good to you," Rick's voice broke. "I shoulda seen through your mask sooner. I mighta been hurt, trapped in that hospital like I was, but it was you who's been hurting all this time, ever since. You once told me that me an' Lori an' Carl were all that kept you on this earth. An' I been real blind, a real bastard, trying to take that away from you. It was wrong. I was wrong. An' I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for doing that to you, Shane."
Shane clawed at his face, slapping at his head, anything to make it hurt, hurt on the outside, instead of in. He heard Rick make a sound of pain, choked off, like a whimper.
"I need you here, Shane," it was said on a whisper. The words filled his ears like the sound of thunder. Everything else faded away, his ragged breath, his thundering heart. All went still.
"It's real goddamn selfish of me to ask this of you, but I need you, Shane. And," came a shaky breath that sounded like a sob. "I never did thank you. You saved my life, saved Lori an' Carl and kept them safe. Whatever happens," his voice broke again. "I should have said that to you long ago. Thank you, Shane. Thank you."
Shane curled forward until he couldn't anymore. Tiny, as small as he could, like he was five again and hiding in his closet until his daddy passed out and he could slip out the window and find Rick. Find Rick and be safe.
"I can't keep you here. I don't got the right to force you to stay, either. All I got is that we love you. I love you. I always have. An' if you leave us, if you go, I don't know if I'll ever heal from that. I'll get passed it. You know I'll have to. But that hole you'll leave, Shane, no one, nothin', will ever be able to fill it. Ever."
A breath. The sound of boots shifting on the boards.
"I'll be here, Shane. We'll be here, waiting, if you want to come home. But it has to be your choice. Not mine. So," another harsh breath, almost a sob. "We'll be waiting. For whatever you decide." Then he was gone, heat fading, door creaking shut.
They were waiting, he'd said. Waiting. For him. All he had to do...
All he had to do...
Shane opened his eyes. The kid was still frozen in front of him, cheeks wet, like he'd been crying, head bowed. If this had been Before, the thought returned to him. If this had been Before, Rick woulda been the one screaming and cussin' at the kid to get his head outta his ass for whatever dumbass thing they'd picked him up for. An' Shane. Shane would have...he would have been the one to find the kid, after, to listen to him talk it all through. Shane would have been the one telling the kid to keep his chin up.
That there was always hope. Even for people like him.
Like there had been for Shane.
His hands dropped, face and skull stinging. His skin felt strange, still, like he was shedding things piece by piece. He stood, watching the kid whimper and curl away. His knees popped, shoulders inching down inch by stuttering inch. It felt like weights were falling off him, the longer he stood.
The door was still open, His gun was still tucked into the small of his back. He could still kill the kid. He could frame it like he'd escaped, jumped Shane and the threat to them all would be eliminated. He could still lead Rick out into the woods. Rick's leadership would still be thrown into the question. Shane could...Shane could....
The door was open, creaking in the wind. There was nothing keeping him in the shed, nothing but himself and the dying whispers in his head.
Shane let out a breath, things settling in his gut, in his heart, falling together like the tumblers in a lock click, click, click.
He walked out into the sunlight, breath steady, rushing in his chest, freer than it had been in weeks. Rick and Lori were under the big tree, Carl between them, all of them looking up as one as he stepped clear of the shed, stepped clear of the shadows, the whispers, the blood and piss and the pain. He put on foot in front of the other, feeling fragile, feeling like his cracks were healing step by steady step.
Heading for home.
fin
"So hath it been, so be it;
For who shall live and flee it?
But look that no man see it
Or hear it unaware;
Lest all who love and choose him
See Love, and so refuse him;
For all who find him lose him,
But all have found him fair."
-Swinburne, last stanza from Before Dawn. For Shane.