Big Bang Part 1 -- tv_universe challenge drabbles
This is the first of a three part challenge for tv_universe Big Bang Part One. The challenge was to complete a bingo card using graphics or fiction for one TV show. I chose fiction and my TV show is The Walking Dead. There are 9 prompts.
01. Prompt: Opening Monologue
Rick Grimes awakens in a deserted hospital ward to find a world devastated by a plague unlike anything he could have imagined. He and a motley group of survivors attempt to navigate a startling, shocking new landscape filled with untold horror - where shambling corpses overrun the earth and no one is safe.
The dead walk - and they are hungry.
***
02. Prompt: Word -- One word that describes the series. I chose "Family" because ultimately it is about these disparate people coming together as just that.
Post Season Four.
Maggie/Glenn. Daryl/Beth, if you squint.
Maggie shifted to let Glenn sit beside her on the porch. "She sleeping?"
"Finally," Glenn sighed. His head rested against hers for a moment before he quirked a brow. "How'd we get roped into babysitting duty again?"
"Can't always be the supply run superstar, Glenn." She hugged her legs. "Gotta let others have the glory sometimes."
She knew her light tone didn't fool him when his arm tucked against her waist, drawing her closer. "She's gonna be fine."
"I know," Maggie said.
"Daryl won't let anything happen-"
"I know," Maggie repeats.
Her little sister is all grown up now.
***
03. Prompt: Drabble
Post "Still".
Daryl/Beth
"This is gonna hurt," Beth said.
Daryl shook the hair out of his eyes, studied the gash on his right arm critically. "I ain't no pussy. Just go on and-" He hissed, bit down on a strangled cry when Beth upended the jar, the fingers of his left hand clenching. "Shit."
"Good thing we saved some of that moonshine, right?"
Her smile was watery, so he jutted his chin and ignored the stinging pain in his arm. "Wasn't so bad," he said.
And if Beth noticed he didn't let go of her other hand, she didn't say a word.
***
04. Prompt: over-all trope ("the apocalypse brings out the best in people")
Post Season One.
Daryl/Glenn, if you squint.
"Ready?" Glenn calls.
"We take out the cop, the rest of 'em'll fold like a bad hand," Merle rasps. "Load up the Caravan with everythin' we need, and leave 'em to rot."
Daryl shakes his head, banishes the persistent voice to the past where it belongs. He bends to make an adjustment, then stands and nods to Glenn. "Try it now."
Glenn lets out a whoop when the engine turns over easily, and the kid's smile lightens something in Daryl's chest. Merle made his choice, now he's made his. Ain't nothing going to happen to these people while he's around.
***
05. Prompt: Over-all theme (survival)
Post-"Still"
"Beth!"
She looked up in time to catch the thrown crowbar, whirled toward the walker. He towered over her, and his long reach meant that his questing fingers almost snagged her shirt as she scampered back, her boots skittering on the gravel. She took her attention away from the walker long enough to clamber up onto the hood of the car, the added height giving her the advantage she needed. She swung quickly, winced at the crunch of the crowbar burying itself into the walker's putrid skull.
Someone's husband, once. Someone's father.
At least now he would be at peace.
***
06. Prompt: characters
Post Season Four
Daryl checks the last post, tests the fence with a vigorous shake before nodding to Rick. It will hold. He looks up when Sasha claps a hand on his shoulder; falls into step with her on the way back to camp.
"Not gonna last," Sasha says.
"Nope," Daryl agrees.
He pauses when they top the rise to survey the landscape. Watches Tyreese and Michonne playing with Judith, Bob bent over the cooking pot, Beth studiously cleaning her rifle.
It might be the calm before the storm, but his family is together and will survive another night. It's enough for now.
***
07. Prompt: setting
Season Two
Bucolic. Pastoral.
Before the turn, they were just words in a book. Nothing pastoral about the double-wide set in the dirt in the middle of nowhere or the potholed road that led to it; the towering pile of beer cans against the rotted fence or the car parts that lay strewn in the yard.
But the words come back to Daryl now as he leans against the fence, listening to Hershel's cows low in the field and the wind murmuring through the trees. The farm is the kind of place a person could settle. Breathe.
Too bad it won't last.
***
08. Prompt: free square
Season One
All it takes is one wrong step.
Jim swings the bat, and the walker crumbles. He takes a half-step back to avoid the thing's flailing limbs, and his foot catches on something. A root, a rock, a body. He only knows one moment he's standing, he's fighting, he's winning, and the next he is prone on the dirt and his shirt is rucked up and the thing is on him, rotting teeth nuzzling at his stomach. He grunts, punches out with the bat and it's brains leak over the fallen leaves and it's already too late.
He's a dead man.
***
09. Prompt: 500 words
Post Season One.
Daryl/Glenn.
Daryl has to scavenge through half a dozen stores in the strip mall before he finds the battered box of graham crackers. He takes out the lone walker that spots him with a quick jab of his knife to the eye socket, scuttles back into the shadows before the rest of the herd can spot him. It a small one, as herds go these days - only about fifty head - but he can't take any chances. Not when he's got someone relying on hm.
"Ain't much," he says when he gets back.
Glenn takes the box gratefully, eyes the tiny teeth marks at the corners. "You have to fight the mice for them?"
"Nearly lost an arm."
Glenn grins, but Daryl sees that he sobers quickly when he notices the fresh spatters of blood on Daryl's vest, matted on the tips of his long hair. He stills when Glenn's hand reaches out to clutch at his arm.
"I'm sorry you had to go out there alone," Glenn says quietly.
"Been doin' shit like this on my own since I was five," Daryl grunts out. "Why's this time any different?"
"You know why," Glenn says.
Daryl makes sure not to jerk his arm away, but he pulls back enough that Glenn lets him go; busies himself with pulling the poncho away from Glenn's legs and checking Glenn's ankle critically. He tries to concentrate on the swelling, to decipher whether the bruising is less intense. But the muted light from the single cracked window high in the storeroom wall doesn't do him any favours. And besides, he can feel Glenn staring at him - and if there's one thing he knows, it's the damn kid's patience.
He squints up, finally. Gives in. Nods quickly and gives the kid a tentative smile and pretends that his chest doesn't squeeze painfully when Glenn's eyes warm and he gives him that fond, ridiculous smile right back. He doesn't even bitch when Glenn's fingers come down to lightly stroke through his hair when he again bends his head to his inspection of the ankle.
"Think the swelling might be goin' down," he says finally.
"It feels better," Glenn answers.
It's only when Glenn pulls his hand away that Daryl straightens, sits up to lean beside him against the cracked plaster wall. He digs his own hand into the box of crackers, and he's sure Glenn deliberately waits until he has his mouth full before the kid slides closer to him and drapes the poncho over their bodies before leaning in to rest his head against his shoulder.
"I'm breaking the no cuddling rule," Glenn says firmly.
The tone of voice brooks no argument. But Daryl only has to think back to the mad dash to safety, the snapping of decaying jaws and the heart-stopping panic that went through him when Glenn briefly went down to realize that everything has changed now.
"Fine with that," he says shortly.
He doesn't have to look to know that Glenn is grinning.
.
01. Prompt: Opening Monologue
Rick Grimes awakens in a deserted hospital ward to find a world devastated by a plague unlike anything he could have imagined. He and a motley group of survivors attempt to navigate a startling, shocking new landscape filled with untold horror - where shambling corpses overrun the earth and no one is safe.
The dead walk - and they are hungry.
***
02. Prompt: Word -- One word that describes the series. I chose "Family" because ultimately it is about these disparate people coming together as just that.
Post Season Four.
Maggie/Glenn. Daryl/Beth, if you squint.
Maggie shifted to let Glenn sit beside her on the porch. "She sleeping?"
"Finally," Glenn sighed. His head rested against hers for a moment before he quirked a brow. "How'd we get roped into babysitting duty again?"
"Can't always be the supply run superstar, Glenn." She hugged her legs. "Gotta let others have the glory sometimes."
She knew her light tone didn't fool him when his arm tucked against her waist, drawing her closer. "She's gonna be fine."
"I know," Maggie said.
"Daryl won't let anything happen-"
"I know," Maggie repeats.
Her little sister is all grown up now.
***
03. Prompt: Drabble
Post "Still".
Daryl/Beth
"This is gonna hurt," Beth said.
Daryl shook the hair out of his eyes, studied the gash on his right arm critically. "I ain't no pussy. Just go on and-" He hissed, bit down on a strangled cry when Beth upended the jar, the fingers of his left hand clenching. "Shit."
"Good thing we saved some of that moonshine, right?"
Her smile was watery, so he jutted his chin and ignored the stinging pain in his arm. "Wasn't so bad," he said.
And if Beth noticed he didn't let go of her other hand, she didn't say a word.
***
04. Prompt: over-all trope ("the apocalypse brings out the best in people")
Post Season One.
Daryl/Glenn, if you squint.
"Ready?" Glenn calls.
"We take out the cop, the rest of 'em'll fold like a bad hand," Merle rasps. "Load up the Caravan with everythin' we need, and leave 'em to rot."
Daryl shakes his head, banishes the persistent voice to the past where it belongs. He bends to make an adjustment, then stands and nods to Glenn. "Try it now."
Glenn lets out a whoop when the engine turns over easily, and the kid's smile lightens something in Daryl's chest. Merle made his choice, now he's made his. Ain't nothing going to happen to these people while he's around.
***
05. Prompt: Over-all theme (survival)
Post-"Still"
"Beth!"
She looked up in time to catch the thrown crowbar, whirled toward the walker. He towered over her, and his long reach meant that his questing fingers almost snagged her shirt as she scampered back, her boots skittering on the gravel. She took her attention away from the walker long enough to clamber up onto the hood of the car, the added height giving her the advantage she needed. She swung quickly, winced at the crunch of the crowbar burying itself into the walker's putrid skull.
Someone's husband, once. Someone's father.
At least now he would be at peace.
***
06. Prompt: characters
Post Season Four
Daryl checks the last post, tests the fence with a vigorous shake before nodding to Rick. It will hold. He looks up when Sasha claps a hand on his shoulder; falls into step with her on the way back to camp.
"Not gonna last," Sasha says.
"Nope," Daryl agrees.
He pauses when they top the rise to survey the landscape. Watches Tyreese and Michonne playing with Judith, Bob bent over the cooking pot, Beth studiously cleaning her rifle.
It might be the calm before the storm, but his family is together and will survive another night. It's enough for now.
***
07. Prompt: setting
Season Two
Bucolic. Pastoral.
Before the turn, they were just words in a book. Nothing pastoral about the double-wide set in the dirt in the middle of nowhere or the potholed road that led to it; the towering pile of beer cans against the rotted fence or the car parts that lay strewn in the yard.
But the words come back to Daryl now as he leans against the fence, listening to Hershel's cows low in the field and the wind murmuring through the trees. The farm is the kind of place a person could settle. Breathe.
Too bad it won't last.
***
08. Prompt: free square
Season One
All it takes is one wrong step.
Jim swings the bat, and the walker crumbles. He takes a half-step back to avoid the thing's flailing limbs, and his foot catches on something. A root, a rock, a body. He only knows one moment he's standing, he's fighting, he's winning, and the next he is prone on the dirt and his shirt is rucked up and the thing is on him, rotting teeth nuzzling at his stomach. He grunts, punches out with the bat and it's brains leak over the fallen leaves and it's already too late.
He's a dead man.
***
09. Prompt: 500 words
Post Season One.
Daryl/Glenn.
Daryl has to scavenge through half a dozen stores in the strip mall before he finds the battered box of graham crackers. He takes out the lone walker that spots him with a quick jab of his knife to the eye socket, scuttles back into the shadows before the rest of the herd can spot him. It a small one, as herds go these days - only about fifty head - but he can't take any chances. Not when he's got someone relying on hm.
"Ain't much," he says when he gets back.
Glenn takes the box gratefully, eyes the tiny teeth marks at the corners. "You have to fight the mice for them?"
"Nearly lost an arm."
Glenn grins, but Daryl sees that he sobers quickly when he notices the fresh spatters of blood on Daryl's vest, matted on the tips of his long hair. He stills when Glenn's hand reaches out to clutch at his arm.
"I'm sorry you had to go out there alone," Glenn says quietly.
"Been doin' shit like this on my own since I was five," Daryl grunts out. "Why's this time any different?"
"You know why," Glenn says.
Daryl makes sure not to jerk his arm away, but he pulls back enough that Glenn lets him go; busies himself with pulling the poncho away from Glenn's legs and checking Glenn's ankle critically. He tries to concentrate on the swelling, to decipher whether the bruising is less intense. But the muted light from the single cracked window high in the storeroom wall doesn't do him any favours. And besides, he can feel Glenn staring at him - and if there's one thing he knows, it's the damn kid's patience.
He squints up, finally. Gives in. Nods quickly and gives the kid a tentative smile and pretends that his chest doesn't squeeze painfully when Glenn's eyes warm and he gives him that fond, ridiculous smile right back. He doesn't even bitch when Glenn's fingers come down to lightly stroke through his hair when he again bends his head to his inspection of the ankle.
"Think the swelling might be goin' down," he says finally.
"It feels better," Glenn answers.
It's only when Glenn pulls his hand away that Daryl straightens, sits up to lean beside him against the cracked plaster wall. He digs his own hand into the box of crackers, and he's sure Glenn deliberately waits until he has his mouth full before the kid slides closer to him and drapes the poncho over their bodies before leaning in to rest his head against his shoulder.
"I'm breaking the no cuddling rule," Glenn says firmly.
The tone of voice brooks no argument. But Daryl only has to think back to the mad dash to safety, the snapping of decaying jaws and the heart-stopping panic that went through him when Glenn briefly went down to realize that everything has changed now.
"Fine with that," he says shortly.
He doesn't have to look to know that Glenn is grinning.
.