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ftwdb · 5 months

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Don't Say Go.

Chapter 11.

Summary: Soulmates find each other through what is known as The Pull. A sense within a persons body that their soulmate is within reach that guides them to find them. You find yourself following this Pull, guided by vague dreams of a man you can't quite see, until you collapse in the wild and are found by Troy, your soulmate, who has been following the same feeling toward you for days.

Once connected soulmates are able to share emotions through their bond, as well as being able to sense where the other is. But how this force works is very much a mystery still, it can vary from soulmate to soulmate, and just sometimes a connection too deep can lead twist a bond from something beautiful to, well...

Warnings: Dark themes, sexual content, violence, non-graphic description/implications of SA, child abuse and domestic violence. References to addiction. Unhealthy love/obsession/relationships. Soulmate AU. Eventual smut.

You were still waiting in the bunkhouse after the sun had set. You knew dinner would have been served by now, peering through your window you could see the shapes of the ranchers moving about and getting ready to wind down for the day.

You paced. Unlocked the door and then locked it again. Gave it one more moment of thought then slid the bolt open and stepped outside.

The night air was cool, refreshingly so, but you wished you'd thought to pull on an extra layer. For a moment you looked around, expecting to see Troy coming toward you at any moment. You were left disappointed.

As your stomach began to growl your patience wore thin. Closing your eyes you reached for the feeling in your chest that seemed to know just where Troy was. With a tug it pulled you toward the direction of the main house. You frowned. Troy had said he would collect you from the bunkhouse but it wouldn't be long until there would be nothing but scraps left. With a huff you set your feet toward the canteen, trying not to overthink his lateness. He'd been on patrol all day, had saved a man's life from what you had gathered by the sorry looking figure they'd pulled from the truck. You couldn't really be angry at him for needing time to rest.

Trying to brighten your thoughts you decided to collect two trays of food and take dinner to him instead. You ignored the looks you received as you approached the remaining ranchers who were finishing their meals at the tables outside the canopy. You pretended you could't hear the whispers. Instead you caught the eye of Gretchen Trimbol, and even though you'd been overwhelmed by her non-stop chatter the first time you'd met, she'd seemed nice enough. She certainly didn't treat you with resentment or suspicion, or like a zoo animal to be ogled, like some of the others. She beamed as you approached, trying to return her enthusiasm with a polite smile.

"Well look who it is!" she declared, loud enough to draw the attention of anyone who had so far not noticed your presence.

You smiled through your teeth, "Just me..."

Gretchen shook off your faux shyness and started to pile food onto a plate. "Don't be silly, I was wondering where'd you'd gotten to! I've been meaning to stop by for a visit but Troy's forbidden anyone to bother you so... oh, that reminds me, is it true?"

You looked at her blankly.

"About you. And Troy?" she leaned toward you as if sharing in a conspiracy. "That you're soulmates?"

For some reason you blushed. Why was it such a topic of interest to the ranchers? Soulmates were hardly a something that usually became the subject of fascination, unless some scandal were involved.

Wait. Was there scandal?

"Why do you ask?" you tried to say nonchalantly, your mind racing with possibilities.

Gretchen's eyes widened as she took your reply as confirmation.

"Oh no reason. It's just so wild that anyone could still hope to find their perfect match in all of... this." She gestured randomly around her, her serving spoon flicking some remaining mashed potato to the grass.

"Oops," she grimaced.

You picked up your plate and were about to ask for a second to take to said soulmate as you caught Gretchen's next words muttered quietly.

"...and that it's Troy..."

You froze, confused. Why would it be so unusual for a particular person to find their soulmate? It could happen to anyone, at anytime.

You were unable to ask exactly what she meant by her words when you sensed a figure behind you. Or rather, smelled them. You turned to see Jeremiah Otto peering down his nose at you, wobbling slightly on his feet as the scent of alcohol filled your nostrils. Gretchen muttered some excuse about needing to tend the kitchen as she retreated, leaving you stuck between Otto and the serving table. You grasped your plate of food defensively as his eyes roamed from your face to the quickly cooling plate of vegetables and meat.

"Got your fill?" he said unkindly.

You regarded him with a wary eye. From your short meeting and the clues you'd picked up on when speaking to Jake and Troy you knew Jeremiah was someone who would not tolerate a bad attitude.

It was so hard to keep a courteous tongue in your mouth.

"I was taking a serving to Troy," you said plainly, leaving out the fact that his son had stood you up for your first date.

Jeremiah snorted, "Troy is asleep, snoring like a boar in his room."

You felt your cheeks warming.

"Then he will be hungry when he wakes up."

You tried to move past him, but Otto moved with surprsing swiftness considering the intoxication that had made his eyes glaze over.

"He tells me you're ready to be put to work. Are you?"

You clenched your jaw and tried not to spit out your reply, resenting the fact that he made you sound like a working dog or one of his horses.

"I am."

Jeremiah nodded.

"Then we have a guest in the medical tent whom Jake has volunteered you to take care of."

You frowned. That didn't seem like something Jake would do.

"You can start by taking him something to eat for when he wakes."

You tried to keep your expression under control. He was messing with you, perhaps just trying to keep you from spending time with his son. Maybe even sending you on an errand simply to waste your time. Who knew what motivated bitter old men.

Your smile was empty as you nodded, finally being allowed to sidestep the old man you tried not to make it look like you were running from the eyes that had been watching you as you made your way toward the medical tent.

You caught the sympathetic look Gretchen threw you but chose to ignore her.

You grumbled to yourself as you made your way, deciding to help yourself to a spoonful of potatoes as you walked. It was unlikely the newcomer was fit to eat much, he wouldn't miss one mouthful of the buttery delight that was Gretchen's mother's famous mashed potatoes.

You nodded at one of the uniformed men standing guard as he frowned at you in confusion.

"Otto's orders," you shrugged as you gestured at the plate in your hands. He nodded his consent for you to enter and you pushed aside the flap of the tent and made your way inside. It was empty except for the man lying unnervingly still.

You set down the food on a side table and carefully approached, staring at his chest as you confirmed that he was indeed still breathing. You sighed your own breath of relief. You'd put down the dead before, when running had been no option, but the feel and sound of a knife sliding through the flesh of an ear or eyeball still revolted you. You were glad there would be no need tonight.

There was an IV hooked into his arm. Fresh bandages obscured most of his face as you took in the mess he was in. You took a step closer as you wondered if this was how you had looked, lying half-dead and unrecognisable under the dirt and blood of the wilderness.

A voice behind you made you start.

The man who had been on guard was peering at you through the flap in the tent, "You mind sticking around while I grab something to eat myself? I'm starved and Mike's late for watch."

You blinked before finding yourself nodding on reflex. If you wanted to be welcomed here, to belong, you would need to be helpful. The man was unconscious, tied to the bed, and hardly a threat.

The guard disappeared from view and you wondered briefly were Mike was. Troy had told you a little about him, as had Gretchen upon your first meeting. He was her older brother and Troy's oldest friend from school. He was also the man who had frightened you in the showers at the bunkhouse on your first day and you'd had the fortune to not have to speak to him directly since. There was something about him that left you uneasy, even from a distance.

You started again when a cough caught your attention. The man was gasping, trying to turn on his side as he coughed and gagged some more. You moved quickly, realising if he was sick he would choke on his own vomit. You tried to ease him onto his side as best you could but with both his hands bound to the bed's sides he couldn't hold himself up enough to stop himself falling back against the pillows.

You looked around for something sharp. He was tied with plastic zip ties and freeing him of one so he could roll into his side and vomit onto the floor was your only option.

You grabbed up a pair of scissors that had been left beside a roll of bandages and cut him free, pushing him onto his side as bile began to pour from his mouth. You dropped the scissors and tried to reassure him as he writhed, trying to throw up on an empty stomach was painful. His skin was hot and clammy even beneath his clothes.

Eventually he stopped, rolling onto his back again as he panted for breath and tried to cough out what sounded like a thank you.

You offered to find him some water as his uncovered eye focused on your face and began to widen in recognition.

You realised now that the wounds to his face appeared to be burns, and not from sun exposure.

You both froze. Time seemed to stop as your chest pounded with fear. An icy cold swept over you as your mind saw past the bandages, past the sore pink skin that was exposed and into the eye of a face you'd thought you would never see again.

"You..." the man began to utter.

You stumbled back but he moved his loose hand to grab hold of the front of your shirt.

"You!"

You tried to pull free, panic overtaking your senses as the pounding of your heart became a beacon in your chest. You felt it pulsing, could almost feel the waves it sent out as if searching... calling for help.

You finally screamed.

The man sneered, finding the strength in your fear to pull you against him so your face was against his. He hissed into your ear.

"You... did this. You killed him... tried to... kill me."

You squeezed your eyes tight as memory overtook you.

Your parents were gone. A man and his son, barely more than a teenager really, offered to take you back to a safe place they'd found for his wife and daughter.

You weren't stupid but when he'd shown you a photograph of them together as a family you'd foolishly believed them to be no threat.

You could still hear the sound of the lock turning on the door. Your clothes being torn from your body as hands pinned you down.

Days passed. They only left you unbound because they'd believed you too weak to try and escape or fight back after being starved and brutalised over and over. They were right. You were too weak to fight, but not too weak to take the bottle of whisky they'd fallen asleep sharing and sprinkle over rags you surrounded them with. You stole what little supplies they had whilst they snored, including a set of matches.

One left. It was like a sign.

It was as you'd struck the match and stared at the flickering flame that you heard a sound. The son had woken and was looking at you in confusion, too slow in his drunken stupor to realise what was about to happen. You dropped the match on the wet rags and fled as the fire licked its way up their legs.

Their screams followed you as you ran, forcing your legs to carry you even as your body screamed to stop. From a distance you saw the smoke rising into the sky, disappearing amongst the clouds.

You set your sights east, some feeling within you whispering that that was the way to go...

"You deserved it," you snarled, anger suddenly bursting from you like the very flames that had left him scarred.

Your hand felt around for the scissors you had dropped, had stupidly used to cut him free.

You plunged them into his neck as he was about to speak again. His words came out as a wet gasp as his fingers loosened on your shirt and you stumbled back. He gazed at you in shock as his free hand clasped at the gaping wound on his neck and you realised how the only other man who'd dared try to hurt you had shared that same expression when you'd cut his throat too.

You dropped the scissors, wet and sticky with blood, as your blood thundered in your ears. You didn't wait to see the life leave the man's eyes. You turned on your heel and fled, knocking the tray of food to the floor as you burst from the tent and ran into the night.

#troy otto #fear the walking dead #ftwd #fanfiction #ftwd fanfic #fear the walking dead fanfic #ftwdfanfic #fanfic #troy otto x reader #soulmate #au #season 3 #don't say go fic

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favcritecriime · 11 months

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IT'S KILLING ME TO LOVE YOU | Mike Trimbol

Firm strides across mismatched grass brought him to the Trimbol’s family camper van. Hand grabbed a hold of the door handle, opening it with a little too much force before more or less stumbling up the few stairs. Door fell shut behind him, engulfing him in complete silence and yet, his own name which had been repeatedly called by the best friend he once had, the stranger he now was, the head of the militia, echoing in his ears. Luckily neither his parents nor his sister were inside, most likely busy somewhere else on the ranch. Gretchen probably attended bible study like most times and in all honesty, Mike was definitely relieved about it as he slumped into the nearest seat. Elbows propped upon his knees, resting his head within his hands while pressing his eyes tightly shut.

The drumming of his heart noticeably within his chest, knowing it wasn’t caused by one thing alone.Piercing blue eyes kept haunting him, eyes too familiar, eyes which used to light up whenever in his presence, eyes which were reflecting disappointment and looked so much dimmer. Despite the years which had gone by and the rift which was bigger than ever between the youngest Otto and the oldest Trimbol, Mike wished he could change something about it. Much like he used to when they were kids. When the world didn’t weigh so much upon their shoulders. Before their line of friendship blurred and they were forced apart.

It shouldn’t be like this. He was supposed to put his head back on track. Certainly it shouldn’t unsettle him much whenever he ends up alone with Troy. Something that kept happening, because he could see how the other was seeking a long overdue conversation. Yet his heart was betraying him. It wanted something it couldn’t have. Mike’s fear was too big, even though he wasn't fifteen anymore. A grown man who hadn’t the guts to admit he still very much seeked something that was frowned upon by his father, by Jeremiah.

A truth Mike kept denying, despite the wooden pendant which was dangling from the black leather strap around his neck. Safely tucked beneath any shirt he wore. Kept out of sight while still considered a lucky charm, something that continues giving him comfort, although it was made by the man he so desperately tried to stay away from. Despite the old tin box sitting within a slightly worn backpack in his closet. Still containing money he had saved up for them to get off the ranch. Money which was very much worthless now much like the idea to ever leave this place behind.

He was a goddamn coward, a liar.

#drabble / mike trimbol #//please don't reblog! mutuals may interact #//it's a long drabble okay don't judge the feels xD

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skadee17 · 4 months

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III- My shadow

Pat Daley addressed the gathered community of the ranch and recounted seeing an angel land in her garden while she was preparing preserves in her kitchen. She was referring to her recently deceased daughter, who was full of courage. At 12 years old, her daughter had jumped off the roof of their house with an umbrella, thinking she would land softly. The mother explained that the child ended up with a double arm fracture but never cried once.

While she was speaking, I felt as if I were being watched, as if someone was observing my every movement or expression. I dared to glance at the stage where the Ottos were, and my eyes met Troy's: this sociopath was staring at me with a mocking, even disturbing, expression. What was his problem?

Charlene's mother continued her speech and added that her daughter had risked her life for the unprepared: that is, us. The others gave us dark looks in reaction to the grieving mother's words. We didn't seem to be welcome here, yet my mother wanted us to stay, at least for a while. I felt like bursting into laughter at these words; they considered us unprepared, but they probably never set foot outside this ranch of conspiracy theorists. And the only ones who had done so were busy killing humans for science and were part of a group of deranged military personnel. What more could I ask for, I sarcastically thought to myself.

But I knew it wouldn't be easy; the community members didn't trust us, and we didn't trust them: a 50-50 split.

My mother suddenly stood up and spoke: "My name is Madison Clarke, and these are my children, Nick, Alicia, and Bella. We are deeply sorry for Charlene and for all those you have lost. We have lost loved ones too." She paused and continued, "Travis," she repeated his name with emotion, "Travis was our compass. We wanted to thank you for welcoming us into your home and for your generosity. You won't regret it."

Jack took the floor next and said, "We've all been through that; it's what brings us together, and mourning is hard, but it's important that we get through it."

Before he could finish, a man interrupted him and asked about finding out who shot at the helicopter.

"I'm sorry, I know it takes time to move on, and Pat has the right to grieve, but I want to know who shot at the helicopter."

Jack replied to the man named Vernon, "Vernon, we'll find out," he said.

"When?" the man impatiently asked.

"Believe me, we'll take care of it."

"How long will it take?" The man pointed at Jeremiah.

"Jeremiah, please..."

The old man replied, "Nothing has changed, Vernon, don't worry. We still intend to fight. We asked Station Alpha to inspect the crash site. Once we know who we're dealing with, we'll act. If it's a madman, we'll act, and if it's an even greater challenge, we'll act," he concluded.

Then a new voice spoke, and Troy took the floor: "He talks about revenge. We'll find him, and we'll make him pay, whether the threat is big or small, we'll set things right."

The voices of the people around us echoed; they agreed with Troy, they wanted revenge, and I must say, so did I. Travis had been killed by these lunatics, and they would pay for it.

"Wait, we'll get justice when we know exactly what we're dealing with. We can't afford to scatter; we must represent the hope of a new world..."

I never thought I'd agree with Troy, but on this one, he was right. Whoever had killed Travis and nearly killed my sister would pay, that was certain. Troy looked at me, I didn't break the exchange, I should have, but I didn't. I didn't know why, but this time, I didn't look at him with disdain but more with understanding. He wanted to protect these people, and I wanted to protect my family.

After this meeting, my mother and Alicia headed towards the cafeteria for lunch. I joined them a few minutes later after checking on Luciana and seeing if her wounds were healing well.

The three of us ate together. Alicia told me about her encounter with Gretchen Trimbol, Vernon's daughter, and her invitation to a group called "Resurrected Christ." My mother had forced her to participate to integrate into the ranch. I couldn't help but laugh and mock her; I knew my sister inside out, and that was everything she hated.

Unfortunately, karma seemed to have it in for me, and I spilled my coffee on myself.

"Damn!" I exclaimed.

"Guess you should have kept your mouth shut instead of mocking me," teased Alicia.

"Shut up," I interrupted. I stood up, sighing, and heard my sister laughing behind my back. What a lovely day ahead.

I headed towards our cabin, and once there, I closed the door to avoid the whole ranch seeing my breasts and took off my top.

My bra was soaked, as was my sweater. Damn it, I took it off too and felt the breeze on my bare back. As I put on a clean shirt, I noticed someone in the bed. I hadn't seen them when I came in; it must have been Nick taking a nap. Privacy wasn't much of a thing here.

I asked, "How's Luciana?"

"She's still alive," came a familiar voice.

I immediately turned around and saw Troy coming out of the bunk. What a freaking psychopath. I hoped he had enjoyed his peeping because that was reason enough for me to gouge out his other eye.

"You crazy jerk! What the hell!"

"I really liked your mother's speech," he taunted me. "Especially when she said his name, Travis. It gives him importance, makes him real."

"He was real," I countered.

"But that's not why she talked about him. It wasn't heartfelt; it was calculated. She wanted to remind us that you were also victims."

"What are you insinuating? That you're a victim? Let me laugh; you're a freaking monster. You kill people and call it science. So, keep your remarks to yourself and get the hell out of here."

There was a pause, then he asked me, with a calmer voice, without mockery, "What were you doing in the old world? He hesitated, I mean, my father said you studied medicine. What was it like?"

I took a moment to think, should I answer him? "It was tough, but I loved it."

"I never went to high school. 'Troy has some socialization difficulties that prevent him from integrating into a normal school curriculum.'"

"And look at you, years later, killing innocents. I doubt they were wrong," I sarcastically retorted.

"I did it for everyone; I thought you'd understand."

"But that's not the case, you condemned them to death."

"They were already doomed, I spared them suffering."

"You're not a savior, Troy; you're a murderer."

He moved closer to the window and looked at the people outside, then continued, "Everything I've done is for them; they deserve to live and feel protected. Everything I do, I do solely for this place."

"Does your father believe you when you say that?" I asked.

"Yes, he understands. Complicated problems require complicated solutions."

"Killing people isn't complicated; it's very simple."

"You see, you also understand me and understand this world."

Those words sent a chill down my spine, but despite everything, I had killed people too, to protect myself and my family. At first, I felt guilty for taking lives, but as time passed, it became more natural, as if I had always done it. So, if he was a murderer, I was just as much of one.

How could he always get into my head and make me question myself? He was like a shadow behind me, like the demon on my shoulder. Every time we talked or looked at each other, something happened. I had to vanquish the monster because he was my shadow, the dark part of my being.

#fear the walking dead #ftwd #fanfiction #troy otto x oc #ennemies to lovers #troy otto

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helloalycia · 6 months

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒 [𝐓𝐖𝐎] // 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐤

summary: after moving onto the ranch, you're met with the challenges of settling in and making a new friend of Alicia herself.

warning/s: mentions of death, bereavement and discrimination.

author's note: here’s part 2! bit on the long side but hope you enjoy it :)

one / three / four / masterlist / wattpad

Moving in with the ranchers wasn't smooth sailing, not that anyone expected it to be. There was a huge growing pain, with dirty looks being thrown our way and a heavy reluctance to obey the shared command between my father and Jake, or should I say my father and Madison.

I hadn't spoken to Alicia's mother much, only one quick informal introduction and the impression I received from when she burst onto the reservation to steal back Alicia and break the parley. I was trying not to hold a grudge from that, I knew she was only being an overprotective mother. But I wasn't sure if I could say I trusted her, despite my father seeming to respect her, much more than Jake anyway.

Working with Alicia as we all adjusted to living together wasn't going so bad. She was starting to grow on me, and I her, I think. Our goal was to show a unity between our people, and though many rolled their eyes when they saw us working together or chatting to one another, it kind of seemed to work. Some were encouraged to do the same, the ranchers following in Alicia's footsteps and giving my people a chance, which was all we wanted.

One day, we were searching the shed near the field for some gardening equipment when a rancher walked past, glancing at us and mumbling something under his breath.

"Pardon?" I said, pausing and looking to him with a quirked brow.

"You heard me," he retorted defensively, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes as I looked back down, continuing my search. I didn't know what he'd said, but maybe it was for the best.

"You're just a damn murderer," he muttered again, about to leave, but this time I heard and grew offended.

"Excuse you?" I asked with surprise, straightening up to glare at him. "I didn't murder anyone."

The rancher chuckled dryly. "Whatever you say, Indian."

Trying to contain my irritation, I said, "You can't just come over here and act like an ass. If you've got a problem, say it."

He scoffed, rolling his eyes, but before he could speak, Alicia walked out the shed from behind me and looked between us.

"What's going on?" she asked calmly, though judging from the disapproving stare she was sending the rancher, she already knew. "Do you have something to share, Andy?"

"A few of us are just wondering why you're spending your time with a murderer, Alicia," he snapped bitterly.

I raised my eyebrows, trying so hard not to punch him. "Fuck you!"

"Listen, you bitch–"

"Andy!" Alicia shouted, startling us both. "You can't just–"

"She killed the Trimbols!" Andy yelled. "Her and her people! How do you think Gretchen would feel to see you breaking bread with the enemy? Huh?!"

I scrunched my face together, confused. Alicia said the same thing, back when we were negotiating the parley. Why did everyone here believe it was us who killed the Trimbols?

"It wasn't her, now leave it," Alicia warned with narrowed eyes.

Andy scoffed, shaking his head. "Whatever."

Deciding this wasn't worth half the effort I was giving it, I was going to let Andy walk away and leave it at that – in my experience, people like him couldn't be reasoned with. But Alicia didn't seem to agree, as she spoke up before he could leave.

"Hey," she called to him.

Andy rolled his eyes. "What?"

She crossed her arms sternly. "We all work together now. The past is the past, and this sort of behaviour isn't acceptable anymore. Now apologise."

I sighed inwardly, not liking where this was going.

Andy pointed a finger at me with disgust. "To her?"

Alicia clenched her jaw. "Yes, to Y/N."

Licking my lips awkwardly, I leaned towards Alicia slightly, mumbling, "Alicia, just leave it–"

"No," she said firmly, before nodding to Andy. "Now apologise." When he stayed flabbergasted, like the thought of apologising to me was absurd, Alicia continued, "Without Y/N, we wouldn't have vegetables. We wouldn't have ingredients to cook food with. It all comes full circle, buddy, we work together, now apologise. I'm not asking again."

I pressed my lips together, standing uncomfortably as Andy exchanged looks with Alicia before looking to me, barely.

"Sorry," he forced out, and I didn't know what to do other than stare at the ground.

Once he left, I released a breath and the discomfort dispersed.

"Alicia, you didn't need to do that," I told her as nicely as I could.

She looked to me with assurance. "Yeah, I did. They shouldn't treat you like that."

Sighing, I tried to lighten the mood. "That was pretty polite compared to most encounters I've had."

She frowned, not taking much from my attempt at a joke, and her eyes grew serious. "We're one. There's no them or us. It's all of us now."

Seeing how passionate she was about this all working, admittedly, warmed my heart. I guess I hadn't really noticed how much she wanted this to work until now, especially because she defended me when she didn't need to. I knew she was different to the others from the way she spoke, but sometimes actions spoke louder than words. It was sweet of her.

"Thank you," I said softly.

She offered me a small smile, squeezing my shoulder before returning inside the shed to find the tools.

I was just about to pick up my sandwich and take a bite when I saw my father approaching the bench I was sat at, a smile on his face.

"You alright?" I asked, before digging into my lunch and noticing the absence of his own. "Not hungry?"

He took a seat opposite me, hands resting atop the wood. "I already ate. Just came to check in. See how you were. We haven't talked in a while."

I hummed in agreement, setting down my sandwich. "Yeah, it's been a busy one lately, hasn't it? With the move and settling in. I'm good though."

"Nobody's been giving you any trouble, right?" he asked casually, but I could see the hint of fatherly concern in his eyes. "I know some of the tribe have been struggling."

I shrugged, offering a small smile. "Nothing I can't handle, dad. Besides, I think working alongside Alicia has made it easier for the ranchers to see that we don't have to be enemies, y'know?"

He nodded. "Yes, I saw you've been making an effort with the Clark girl... I appreciate it."

"It wasn't intentional, but she wants the same things as us," I commented, before taking a sip of my juice.

"You're friends," he noticed, eyeing me curiously.

I hesitated, never really giving it much thought. Alicia and I had been spending a lot of time together over the past few weeks, but I'd never put a label on it. Though, I suppose getting to know her more and actually getting along has brought us closer together, a friendship of sorts forming.

"I suppose we are, yeah," I agreed, a little surprised myself.

"That's good," he said with a smile, "just... be careful, yeah? Don't get too close to her."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

Lowering his voice slightly, he answered, "Just don't get too attached to her. Don't forget who she is. Who they all are. What we have here is great, but I'll still worry for you. I don't want you getting hurt."

"Dad, I...," I started, but struggled to find the words. I understood his concern, but it seemed futile given the circumstances. "You're right. What we have is great, and that's because of this partnership we have with them. We kind of have to trust them for this to work."

He sighed quietly, as if I still didn't get it, but nodded. "I know. You know I'll always worry though."

I rested my hand on his, squeezing it gently. "Look, I'll be careful. I promise. But I don't think anything is concerning right now. She's good."

He put his other hand on mine, nodding in agreement, and then we both let go when we noticed Alicia approaching the table, smiling awkwardly.

"Sorry, am I interrupting something?" she asked, hovering with her lunch tray. "I can come back and–"

"No, it's fine, we were just talking," my dad interrupted with a small smile, before standing up. "I'll leave you ladies to it."

Alicia nodded at him as I gave him a reassuring glance when he walked away.

"Everything okay?" she asked as she sat before me, the two of us having planned to eat lunch together.

"All good," I reassured her, before nodding to her tray. "So, what d'you get?"

She began to smile as she used her fork to point. "Trying out this beef lasagne which looked good. How about you?" Before I could answer, she pulled a face when she saw my plate. "Oh, c'mon, a sandwich again? Don't you ever get sick of eating the same thing for lunch?"

I chuckled at her look of disgust. "You can't beat a classic, what can I say?"

"Oh," she scoffed, and I tried not to laugh.

Okay, so yeah, maybe we were friends. But that came out of a well-placed mutual agreement to keep the peace, so it was a friendship well earned.

My friendship with Alicia only continued to grow as time went on, so much, in fact, that I didn't see it coming when I started to like her as much more than a friend.

A few of us were setting up a bonfire one evening, burning the rubbish we'd collated over the past few weeks. Crazy Dog – a member of our tribe – Ofelia and I were managing it as everyone came to dispose of their things and, without meaning to, it became a little getaway from the ranch as people hung around for a change of scenery. As I sat on the sidelines on a foldable chair, I spotted Alicia approaching me, taking a seat next to me.

"So, this is where you've been all evening," she commented lightheartedly. "Some of the others said, but I was like 'no, Y/N wouldn't have a bonfire and not invite me'.”

"Alicia, it's not like that," I started, but stopped when she was smiling with amusement. "God, you're annoying."

She laughed. "I'm kidding. How's it going anyway?"

I sighed, leaning back in my chair. "Not so bad. We've got rid of all that old packaging from the pantry. Also been able to get rid of some rubbish lying around. Plus I think it's making everyone relax a little."

She nodded, leaning back too. A silence fell upon us as we merely watched the bonfire crackle in the dusk-lit sky. It was peaceful, a nice change of association with fire compared to the horrible fires we'd both experienced in the past, with all the ranch-reservation threats.

"The last time I saw a bonfire like this was when I was a kid," she suddenly spoke, earning my attention. "I went camping with my family and my dad made something just like this."

"Sounds fun," I said, eyes fixed on her profile.

She had a distant look in her eyes, the firelight brightening up her face. "Yeah, it was. I had Nick and my parents all to myself. It was actually terrible considering none of us knew how to camp. But my dad really wanted it to work, so despite the fact that our tent fell on us in the middle of the night, or that he almost set his eyebrows on fire trying to keep the bonfire alight, it was really fun."

I chuckled as she reminisced, a soft smile tugging at her lips. That was when I noticed how pretty she was when she wasn't so work-focused all the time. Relaxed, no concerns, just a good old childhood memory to distract her. The curve of her jaw, the laugh lines around her lips, the vibrancy of her green eyes... how hadn't I noticed sooner?

"Have you ever been camping?" she asked, turning to look at me and pulling me from my state of admiration.

I cleared my throat, hoping she didn't feel my betraying eyes. "I– yeah. All the time. My dad loves nature and so do I. We're pretty skilled that way and he taught me all I know about surviving out here."

She smiled, looking back to the fire.

"It's funny, since the thought of camping for fun seems pointless now," I realised. "Having a home is a luxury now."

"True," she agreed, before grabbing her backpack from beside her. "Though, if you think that, then maybe now is a bad time to tell you that I saw the fire and thought roasting hot dogs for fun would be a good call."

I blinked, looking to her. "You what?"

Smiling sheepishly, she pulled out a small plastic baggy filled with hot dogs and wooden skewers. I couldn't help but laugh when I saw it, wondering how long it had taken her to put that together considering we'd only had the fire going for about half an hour.

"We definitely have to roast these," I gave in instantly, unable to stop smiling from how cute she was.

In no time, we had our skewers set up, hot dogs fixed on the end and the two of us attempting to cook them in the fire. Hers finished cooking first and she pulled it out, taking a bite off the end.

"Mmm, that's good," she said contently, before holding it towards me. "Here, try it."

Carefully, I blew on the hot dog before taking a bite, though it still burnt my mouth a little and I tried to cool it down quickly by taking deep breaths.

"You made it look less hot!" I told her as she began to laugh at my expression.

"Shit, your hot dog!" she suddenly exclaimed, before grabbing my hand and pulling my own skewer from the fire. We both blew on it repeatedly, but it was a goner, burnt to a crisp and smoking nonstop.

"This is your fault," I told her jokingly. "If you hadn't distracted me, I wouldn't have burnt it."

She was grinning as she apologised. "I'm sorry. C'mon, I've got plenty more."

As she helped me get rid of the burnt hot dog and make up a new skewer, a suppressed smile was on her face and I couldn't tear my gaze from how happy she looked right now. We hadn't had many reasons to let go lately, but this was refreshing. And for the first time, I realised that, shit, I might have actually liked her. Like that.

I had hoped it was a fluke and I was just caught up in the moment, but the more time I spent with Alicia after that evening, the more butterflies I got around her and the more I couldn't stop checking her out in a way that friends shouldn't. And that's what terrified me.

I was in denial, definitely, because liking her wasn't possible. I just couldn't. It wasn't right, not with so much at stake, not with our friendship on the line. I enjoyed having her in my life – gaining her when I'd already lost so much. But liking her and losing her when she meant so much to me would surely kill me. No, I couldn't put my feelings at risk like that. It was just easier to not get attached.

Though, it didn't help that my father was starting to warm up to her and the idea of us being friends. He brought it up one evening, as we were preparing to go to sleep.

"Things are really starting to get better around here, don't you think?" he was saying casually.

"Yeah, it's good to see," I agreed as I puffed up my pillows.

"Y'know, that's partially down to you," he said with a smile. "Well, you and Alicia. The ranchers and our people, seeing you both together... you really proved that we can work together."

I breathed out, feeling that fuzzy feeling I always did whenever Alicia was mentioned. "Yeah, I suppose it helped."

"Between me and you," he continued as he pulled back his duvet, "I think the Clarks are the best thing to happen to this place since Otto took over."

I raised my brows with surprise, pausing. "You said not to trust them."

He shrugged. "I know, but now that we've been working together these past few months, I've noticed that they're different. They're fair, something the Ottos weren't. Madison and her family only want peace. Maybe it's not a bad thing."

I hummed quietly, glad that he was finally seeing that they weren't bad people, but also conflicted because of my feelings for Alicia. His trust in them wasn't helping with my feelings.

"What's wrong?" he noticed, meeting my eyes. "You and Alicia fall out or something? You seemed pretty close."

I forced a smile, shaking my head. "No, nothing like that. Sorry, I was just thinking."

He wrapped an arm around my shoulder comfortingly. "Well, I've told you many times that you think too much."

I rolled my eyes playfully as he chuckled and kissed my hairline.

"Goodnight, Y/N."

"Goodnight, dad."

Things were going too good at the ranch, so good in fact that it almost felt comical when I realised how time had flown by and what day it was exactly. It was the anniversary of my mother's death, exactly nine years since she'd died.

It was never a good day for me, for obvious reasons, but especially because of how my father never seemed to grieve with me, but alone. I understood it could be a hard time for him too, but he made it even harder when he wouldn't talk about it.

That morning after breakfast, I caught him before he could shoot off to talk strategy with Madison and Jake.

"What is it, dear?" he asked, pausing.

"I was planning to go back to the reservation today," I told him calmly. "Get some belongings, mainly photos of mum. I wanted to ask if you wanted to come with me."

At the mention of mum, his expression fell. "I don't think I'll have time today. But you can go on ahead."

I tried not to feel hurt at his response, instead reminding him, "You know today is her–"

"I know," he cut me off instantly, avoiding my eyes.

I frowned, studying his face and how he couldn't even look at me. "So, that's it? That's all you have to say?"

Sighing quietly, he glanced at me. "You go back and do what you need to do today. I'm doing what I need, okay?"

And that was it. He wouldn't hear any more as he turned on his heel and left, leaving me hollow and deflated. I shouldn't have expected any different, not since he never wanted to talk about her all these years. But I thought it might be different, considering this was the first anniversary in the middle of a literal zombie apocalypse.

Never mind though. If he didn't want to remember her today with me, then he didn't need to. I was still planning to go back to the reservation for the day.

So, with all the determination I could muster, I went back to my cabin and began to pack my rucksack with enough things to get me by on the hike back. It would have been easier to take a truck, but I wanted the time outside to think, plus a change of scenery would be nice. As I was finishing up packing the last few things, a knock on my cabin door made me look up. I hoped it was my dad, maybe changing his mind, but then Alicia walked in and my hope dwindled.

"Just where Walker said you'd be," she said lightheartedly, smile on her face. "And I see you're packing a bag. Planning to take a little trip?"

She helped herself to a seat beside me on the bed, eyeing the contents of my bag that she could see. Usually I would feel nervous and elated to be around her – the terrible symptoms of a crush an' all – but today wasn't a regular day, and the last thing I wanted was to bring her mood down with mine.

"Just heading to the reservation to pick up a few things," I told her, tightening the top of my bag close.

"Were you planning to leave without saying goodbye or...?"

I looked up at her, seeing the amusement in her eyes as she awaited my answer.

"It was gonna be one day," I tried to defend, but she rolled her eyes playfully.

"Wow. Nice to know you care."

"Alicia–"

"It's okay anyway, because I'm coming with you," she said decisively.

I paused, raising an eyebrow. "You're what?"

Her twinkling eyes met mine. "I'm coming with you." When I didn't react, she continued, "D'you really think I'm letting you go alone? There may be no more war with the ranch, but infected still exist. You can't just go alone."

"I'm fine to go alone, I know the route," I assured her, standing up. "I appreciate your offer, but really, it's okay."

She stood up too, not seeming to get the hint. "Partners, remember? I'm coming."

I sighed, not in the mindset to deal with her stubbornness right now. And when I looked over at her, somewhat ready to tell her no, she was watching me with a focused stare and slight hopeful expression, and I just couldn't seem to deny her, even in my solemn state.

"Fuck," I muttered. "Fine. But hurry up. I'm leaving in ten."

Her smile widened as she nodded in agreement. "Ten minutes. See you by the gate."

And just like that, I found myself roped into a hike back to the reservation with Alicia by my side.

It was hot out, the sun beating down on us both, but that didn't knock Alicia's high spirits in the slightest. She was too cheerful for my liking, though maybe she was always like that and I was just too stuck in thought to deal with it today.

"So, what's so important that we're heading back?" she asked curiously.

"Just some belongings," I half-lied. "Some stuff I didn't bring when we first moved into the ranch because I wasn't sure if we would stay long enough. But we have now and I'd like to have them with me."

She hummed in acknowledgement. "Right."

Thankfully, she didn't question it any further and I was glad because it meant I wouldn't have to explain about the real reason I was here. It wasn't that I didn't trust her enough to share, but having being forced to keep it to myself all these years because of my dad's reluctance to talk about it meant sharing wasn't so easy for me. It was just easier to keep quiet.

Aside from the few ramblings Alicia went on about the latest in the ranch, from the new ways everyone was bonding to how annoying her brother was being, it was a pretty quiet walk and I was glad. Because of all her talking, it meant I could just listen and give the bare minimum in effort. By the time we reached the reservation, it was lunch time.

"How about you go find us some food and I'll drop our bags off upstairs," I told Alicia when we entered the diner. "I can pack my things too."

She nodded, giving me her bag, before trailing off to the kitchen to see what she could find. Some of our people still remained living here, so there'd be someone to help her out, giving me the perfect chance to pack some of my things.

I dropped Alicia's bag in my old room and mine in my dad's, knowing we'd be sleeping over tonight, and then grabbed some extra clothing, books and, most importantly, family photos. There was one particular photo of my mum and I that I had always adored. She was smiling down at me, the two of us kneeling down in the garden and me attempting to plant with her when really I was just making a mess. It always brought a smile to my lips because I remembered exactly when it was taken, and she looked so young, so beautiful, just how I remembered her.

Today of all days was my heart aching for her, but I refused to let myself get so emotional right now. There was no time, not with so much going on, and not with Alicia waiting for me downstairs. So, I dropped my things in my dad's room and returned to Alicia to have some lunch.

The rest of our day there was spent checking in on the others to see how they were doing and also helping out where we could, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't just wanna sulk in my room. It was harder than I thought, especially given the circumstances, and I was glad when evening fell and Alicia finally said her goodnight to me, leaving me alone.

I stayed in my dad's room with the intention of going to sleep, but then I found myself going through the family photos I'd collected. Ones of all three of us, just my parents, my mum and I... I looked so young in them and I hated that I wanted to know what my mum would have looked like if she'd aged with me. What would she be doing now if she were here? Perhaps staying with us at the ranch? Gardening with me during the day? Putting my dad at ease?

She was taken too soon. And though nine years had passed, it still felt like yesterday when I'd lost her. All I wanted was to talk about it, to spill out my feelings to my father and have him do the same, to fucking acknowledge my mother's existence. But he refused. And I'd never felt so alone because of it.

Suddenly, the room was getting too stuffy for my liking, though I suppose that was down to my teary eyes and wet cheeks. Pulling my shoes and jacket on, I grabbed the picture of my mum and I before sneaking out, settling behind the diner in the quiet of the night, where I could bask in the cool breeze and get my shit together.

Of course, the longer I stayed sat there, staring down at the smiling face of my mother, the harder everything got. My heart was bursting with pain and I just wanted her back. Even for a second, a simple hug. Why couldn't I have that? Why did I have to lose her for good?

I'd learnt to keep my feelings to myself, courtesy of my father's emotional unavailability, which meant I could cry without even making a sound. It was too quiet, but the hot tears were reminding me of the pain I felt, and I didn't know what to do. One day a year could I truly allow myself to feel this way – but this year was the worst one yet for some reason.

I wasn't sure how long I sat on the bench outside, sobbing quietly to myself, but I couldn't forget the panic and embarrassment that washed over me when I heard the back door of the diner opening. My cries ceased and I wiped my face subtly as a voice spoke up.

"Y/N?"

It was Alicia.

Clearing my throat, I avoided looking her way and was grateful for the shield of the dark. "Yeah? What are you doing up? Did I wake you?"

I heard her footsteps approaching and then she sat beside me, looking over at me.

"I knew you left, but you took a while to come back so I thought I'd come check on you," she admitted. "Look, you've been acting distant today and I knew something was up. So, I asked around and they told me that..." She paused, and I was holding my breath. "I know it's the anniversary of your mum's death. I don't want to leave you out here. I'm worried."

I exhaled shakily, trying not to let my emotions get the better of me. "Sorry, I didn't mean to worry you. Honestly, I'm fine. You can go back in."

"Y/N–"

"Please, Alicia, go back in," I pleaded, because I wasn't sure how long I could sit there and hold everything together.

"I'm sorry, but I can't in good faith just leave you out here alone," she said stubbornly. "It's okay not to be okay."

I frowned, hot tears pooling at my eyelids. "Alicia, please, I..."

I swallowed hard, but the tears were starting to roll down my cheeks, and then all she had to do was put her arm around my shoulders and I found I couldn't quite hold it together anymore. In an embarrassing, soggy mess, I broke down in her shoulder, hating that she had to console me and see me in such a vulnerable state. This was the opposite of what I wanted, but at the same time, being able to let it out on someone that wasn't myself felt so damn good.

She didn't rush me as she held me close, rubbing circles on my back and letting me soak her shirt with my tears. I wasn't so sure I deserved this, but it was hard to say no when she felt so warm, so comforting.

It didn't take long for my embarrassingly quiet sobs to stop, and then the realisation of how close I was and how many boundaries I'd crossed came to mind and I immediately moved back, startling her.

"I am so sorry," I blurted out, voice hoarse and eyes looking anywhere but at her. "I didn't mean to–"

"You don't need to apologise," she interrupted, stopping my hands from furiously wiping at my face. "Hey, don't be sorry."

I swallowed hard when she used her thumb to wipe my tears away, skin burning where she made contact. Her eyes found mine, concerned and patient. Why did she have to be here?

"I know it's a lot to deal with, but I just– it's hard to deal with it alone," she said considerately, pushing my hair behind my ear before dropping her hands to hold mine. "Do you want to talk about it?"

I let go of her hands, despite enjoying the warmth, and covered my mouth as I looked away.

"Y/N?" she tried again, making me close my eyes, as if that would make it all better. "Why isn't your dad here?"

I shook my head slowly. "He doesn't want to talk about it. He never does. The past nine years and he says nothing. I'm just– I'm so fucking tired of it. But it is what it is."

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "You can talk to me if you want."

I bent down, putting my head in my hands and letting out a sigh. It was starting to get cold and I involuntarily shivered, tugging my jacket closer around me, and then I felt a hand on my back, rubbing circles.

"Let's go inside," she suggested. "You don't have to talk to me if you don't want to, but you can't stay out here."

"Alicia–" I started, about to protest, but she stood up and held out her hand.

"Let me help you," she said, and I was touched that she cared this much. It would have been so easy for her to pretend she hadn't known a thing. I hadn't had someone like that in my life in a long time.

I nodded, accepting her hand and letting her lead me back inside and up to my bedroom. It was instantly much warmer, and once I lost my jacket and shoes, she made me get in bed, jumping in beside me and pulling the duvet around us both. We sat there in the dark, the only light coming from a spotlight outside and shining through the curtains.

"I didn't think this would happen," I said after being unable to sit in the silence for so long. "If I did, I wouldn't have let you come."

"I'm glad I did, otherwise you would've been alone tonight," she said like it wasn't a big deal. Shifting so she was sat slightly on her side, looking at me, she continued, "You don't talk about your mum. Is it because your dad doesn't?"

I held the edge of the duvet, fingers playing with it mindlessly. "Dad doesn't like to mention it. So, I guess I don't either. But her anniversary comes and I hope he'll change his mind. He doesn't."

I didn't know why I was oversharing so much, but it felt a relief as I did, and Alicia didn't seem to mind. I'd definitely regret it in the morning, but for now, under the guise of the late night, it was easy to open up.

"You can talk about her with me if you'd like," she offered generously.

I glanced over at her, warmed by her softened gaze, the light from outside making the green in her eyes look golden. "I don't even know what to say, Alicia. I just miss her."

She tilted her head thoughtfully. "Well... what was she like?"

I chewed on the inside of my cheek, looking away as I tried to find something to say. I was never at a loss for words about my mother, but actually vocalising them was a different story. All these years keeping her to myself made it difficult.

"She was a lovely woman," I started, though it didn't feel like enough. "Kind. Funny. She... she was my favourite person. She's the reason I love gardening so much."

I paused, hand reaching for the photograph I'd placed on the bedside table before getting in bed. Reluctantly, I held it out to Alicia, who smiled tenderly before taking and looking at it.

"She used to spend a lot of time in the garden like that," I explained, a sad smile appearing on my lips as I looked at the photo again. "She let me help her whenever I asked."

"That sounds fun," Alicia said, eyes flickering from the photo to me. "She's beautiful, Y/N. You look just like her."

I nodded, eyes glued to the photograph. "She was."

"Nine years ago," Alicia recalled what I'd said earlier. "What happened, if you don't mind me asking?"

My smile faded as I accepted the photo back from her. "A drunk driver got her. She was driving to pick me up from school. He died, too."

Alicia began to frown. "I'm so sorry. That couldn't have been easy for you."

I shrugged, pressing the photo to the duvet and sighing.

"He should talk about her with you," she said apologetically. "It's the only way to keep her alive."

"I know it hurts him to mention her," I tried to defend my dad, knowing he wasn't doing it out of spite. "Sometimes it's easier to keep quiet."

"Well, people deal with grief differently," she said. "He doesn't have to talk about her, but he shouldn't stop you from doing so."

I knew she was right, affirming what I already believed, but it wouldn't change anything.

"If you ever want to talk about her and feel like you can't, I'm here," she added, resting a hand on mine. "Seriously, any time."

I looked to her, immediately put at ease by the comforting expression she wore. "I'll try. Thank you, Alicia. For being here."

"Always," she promised, barely a whisper, before pulling me close to her side to hug me, and this time I melted into her.

#alycia debnam carey #alicia clark #fear the walking dead #alicia clark imagine #alicia clark x reader #ftwd #alicia clark x you #fear the walking dead imagine #feartwd

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thatsweetsexypsychotroyotto · 5 years

Text

I'm Not a Bad Person- Chapter 7

SUMMARY: Troy Otto does have feelings you know. Especially when it comes to his childhood friend, Jaymie. Whatever they are, they're rooted deep, and growing.

PAIRING: Troy Otto x OFC

TRIGGERS/ WARNINGS: Language and the typical FTWD stuff

WORD COUNT: Fuck if I know

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry I took so long getting this chapter together. I changed my mind on how I wanted to present an upcoming thing. On to the usual note: my plan is to follow along with season 3, but with Jaymie involved. I'll veer off and switch shit up a lot. It'll be in different characters' perspectives throughout the series. I'm not great at writing but I try my best. Hope you like it enough. All characters except OFC don't belong to me.

*******

Chapter 7

(Alicia's POV)

A moment ago I was dreading the thought of attending Gretchen's Bible study. However, as a freshly packed bong is passed my way, I am pleasantly surprised to find that my expectations were shattered. I asked about Geoff, whom Gretchen had mentioned at lunch. She exchanged guarded looks with the two boys and Jaymie, then got up and headed towards a barrel, in which she pulled out a smaller sized cage. In it was a living, decapitated head. She placed it on the table in front of me. Seeing the biggest threat to the human race vulnerable and behind thin bars had me feeling sovereign. The THC shrouded my mind and I laughed for the first time in what felt like ages.

"Geoff wants to know what it's like out there," Gretchen states on behalf of the snarling head, referring to life outside of the ranch; where the dead have taken over.

"Chaos, ruin, and it changes you; not like Geoff- something worse... Can I ask Geoff something?" Gretchen nods. "Who are the Ottos?"

Gretchen and the boys tell me all about the founding family, which leads to a comment about Geoff being indifferent about Troy. "Troy took Geoff's body," Gretchen whispers loudly.

"Troy's done a lot worse than that." They really have no clue. From the corner of my eye, I notice Jaymie shifting uncomfortably on the other end of the couch.

"Troy and the militia do what we can't. They protect us." Gretchen defends him after giving Jaymie a sympathetic look.

Dare I say it? Yes. I dare. "If people here knew what he really did at the border, everyone would feel differently. You would feel differently."

"Alicia." I meet Jaymie's eyes to see a silent plea for me to stop.

I think of what he did to Luciana's people. I think of Travis being thrown in a pit to fight the dead on Troy's command. I think of what would have happened to Nick if- "No. I don't get it, Jaymie. I don't understand how you can defend him the way you do when you know what he's done."

The girl looked somewhere between heartbroken and pissed. "You have no idea what he's really like, Alicia. And you haven't got a clue as to what he's done for me." She seemed to stop herself too late from saying the second part; like she didn't mean to say it out loud.

Now I'm curious. "Well why don't you tell me what he's really like!" Angry sarcasm spews from my lips. "And what the hell has he done for you that nullifies the murdering of innocent people?!"

***

7 years ago

After yet another long night of hitting the bottle, a very inebriated Jackie stumbled down the hallway to her own bedroom, passing her daughter's on the way. She slurred boisterously, "Jaymie, I'm home! Love you, sweetie!" as she staggered by. Jaymie huffed a sigh of exasperation, but yelled an "I love you too, Mom," anyway.

About 5 or so minutes later, she heard her mother throwing up through the thin walls. Jaymie rolled her eyes in annoyance, put her earbuds in, and fell asleep to some music to drown out the nauseating sounds in the room next to hers.

When she awoke in the late morning, Jaymie made her way to the kitchen to fix her mother the usual mug of green tea, a slice of buttered wheat toast, and a bottle of water to help with the hangover she knew Jackie would have.

Jaymie kicked gently at her mom's bedroom door as to knock, since her hands were full, then skillfully raised her leg up and turned the knob with her foot and toes. "Wake up, Mom. It's almost noon." Jaymie sat the tea, toast, and water on Jackie's dresser and made her way to the windows to open the curtains and blinds. "I need a ride to the ranch. I told Troy I'd help him clean out the stables today." She turns away from the brightness, the sunlight bringing the room to life; everything except- "Mom?" Jaymie stands frozen, time itself stopping, as her gaze falls on her mother's pale, lifeless body; vomit dried to her face and sheets.

Jackie's eyes are open, but she can't see her daughter rushing to her side; can't feel her daughter's hands grab her arm to shake her, only to pull back in horror at both the rigermortis which had set in, and the feel of her cold skin; can't hear her daughter's heartwrenching screams and cries; can't recognize the pleads coming from her daughter's lips to come back, to not leave her, telling her she loves her, becoming that little girl again calling her 'Mommy,' instead of 'Mom.'

After a short while, Jaymie called the Otto residence. Jake had been the one to answer the phone. In between the sobs and panicked breathing, he pieced together what happened. After alerting Troy and their father, Jake stayed on the phone with Jaymie for a bit longer while the other two went to help her.

Troy rushed into Jaymie and Jackie's home and found his best friend back against the wall in her mother's room with her arms around her legs, pulling them to her chest. He was at her side in no time at all, and she threw her arms around him, burying her face in the crook of his neck, letting the rest of her tears soak into his flannel shirt. He wrapped her up in his firm embrace, keeping her body snug up against his own. That was the first time Troy held Jaymie in his arms.

Jeremiah had called 9-1-1 after taking a long, sad look at his friend that he and his late wife had spent many nights drinking and playing cards with.

Once the police, EMTs, and coroner had arrived and done their jobs, and Jackie was taken away in a body bag, Jeremiah and Troy took Jaymie back home to the ranch. The two teens rode in the back of the pickup, Troy once again holding his friend in the comfort of his arms. He didn't know how to empathize much, but he hated seeing Jaymie so heartbroken. He wished he could take that pain from her; though there was something about that moment that had him feeling warm and, happy? Then he realized: it was because he felt needed. He was needed.

The Ottos had intended for Jaymie to stay there with them, but several days after Jackie's funeral, a woman from social services showed up. Apparently Jaymie's father, John, requested custody of her. This was completely unexpected, as John had left his daughter and her mother 5 years prior, with no contact since. Jaymie was stressed out far worse than any 12 year old should be, but what made matters worse was that John lived 8 hours away from the ranch. Jaymie was devastated, and frightened. Troy was already coming apart at the seams at the mention of her having to leave; she was his anchor.

They both held it together well enough thanks to daily phone calls. Little by little though, Jaymie's spirits seemed to dampen, her voice became meeker, and in the middle of a sentence she would suddenly state that she had to go, and hung up. Troy knew something was wrong. He wanted to go to her, to check on her, to rescue her from whatever it was that had her on edge; but he didn't know her father's address.

Some time later, Troy received a letter with Jaymie's name above the return address. He opened it in a hurry. However, as he read her heartfelt words, his eyes began uncharacteristically flooding, his face heated up and turned an angry shade of red, and then everything in his mind went black.

*******

#i'm not a bad person #troy otto #troy otto fanfiction #fear the walking dead #fear the walking dead fanfiction #daniel sharman #alicia clark #alycia debnam carey #gretchen trimbol #rae gray #jake otto #sam underwood #jeremiah otto #dayton callie #troy x jaymie #the walking dead universe #zombie genre #geoff the walker

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ivebeenmade · 6 years

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FTWD HEADCANON MADISON/TRAVIS...&BABY

So the kids still get separated from mom after the dam. Nick having blown the dam BECAUSE of what she TRIES to do to Troy. Thinking she’s dead, they head away from CA.

A few years later, Alicia, Jake, Troy, Nick, Victor, Cooper, and Gretchen Trimbol run into Madison. Travis has miraculously survived, and he and Madison have managed to reunite (at the baseball diamond, which she SURVIVED) and have a baby.

The new little sister builds a bridge to forgiveness. Travis being alive helps of course.

By the way, the baby’s name is Sophia.

#I'm not sure how he survives yet #let's just suspend disbelief for the moment #Fuck the new show direction by the way #nick clark #headcanon #troy otto #alicia clark #jake otto #victor strand #cooper #ftwd #mine #gretchen trimbol #gretchen's survival will be in a fic soonish

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dailyfeartwdgifs · 7 years

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Fear The Walking Dead season 3, episode 6 “Red Dirt”

#ftwdedit #aliciaclarkedit #troyottoedit #madisonclarkedit #ftwd #fear the walking dead #alicia clark #jake otto #troy otto #madison clark #gretchen trimbol #jeremiah otto #season 3 #gifs #blood for ts #gun for ts #gore for ts #aheartfulloflexa #camila

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thetwelfthbunny · 7 years

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fear the walking dead - TEOTWAWKI (3x03)

#fear the walking dead #ftwdedit #alicia clark #madison clark #jake otto #troy otto #gretchen trimbol #ugh this isn't very good but I didn't want to do anymore to it #ftwd #my edit

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acabecca · 7 years

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Breakdown

Endless list of OCs // Maggie Daley - Fear the Walking Dead [2/??]

She had known the second Madison had pulled back the tarp in the bed of the truck and she had seen the bodies of Mike and his family. The way Troy had let go of her hand and shrank back into the crowd had given it away – not just to her, but to other people as well, she was sure of it. She hadn’t missed the look her mother had cast in her direction and she hadn’t been able to ignore the whispers from the few people who clearly didn’t believe Madison’s story about the murder of the Trimbol family.

She hadn’t been able to find Troy since.

That was how she found herself walking up the stairs of the main house, going to Jake’s room where she knew he would be.

Maggie knocked gently on the door and Jake turned his head slightly, a small smiled coming to his face when he saw her there.

��Hey,” he gestured for her to come in, closing his book and placing it down on the desk. Pushing herself away from the doorframe, Maggie walked inside his room and gently closed the door behind her as she chewed on the inside of her cheek, avoiding his gaze and not returning his smile. Jake frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“…The Trimbol’s.”

Jake’s face fell at her words and his eyes shifted to the floor as he nodded slowly, Maggie walking past him to perch herself on the edge of his bed. He had been expecting her ever since his father had returned to the ranch with Madison and Nick.

“I’m sorry,” he told her quietly. “I know how close you and Gretchen were.”

Maggie shrugged her shoulders weakly, picking at a thread on Jake’s bedspread and keeping her eyes on the ground as she tried to stop her bottom lip from trembling.

“He did it, didn’t he?” she whispered hoarsely as Jake turned to face her slowly. “Troy. He killed them.”

“I… I think so,” Jake told her slowly, and looked up at him. “Hey, come here,” Jake sighed, standing up from his seat and going to sit beside her, putting an arm around her shoulders.

“I’m not sad, it’s okay,” she shook her head, and Jake paused. “That’s messed up, right? That I’m not sad? That these people I’ve known since I was a kid are dead, and I’m not sad about it?”

“It’s the shock-”

“It’s not,” Maggie interrupted. “It’s not shock, Jake. It’s just the way the world is now. We lose people. We have to get on with it.”

“You- You can still take time… To grieve-”

“I don’t want to. I don’t need to and- God, doesn’t that make me sound awful? Am I a horrible person? Gretchen was my friend, Charlene was my sister and I just- I can’t cry for them. I don’t have any tears, Jake. I don’t feel anything, it’s like I’ve just grown… Numb to all of it. Like- like Troy.”

Jake tensed. “No,” he snapped, and Maggie turned to him in surprise. “No, Maggie. You’re nothing like Troy, you’re just… You’re adjusting to the new world. We all have to adjust, but you… You lost your sister, Maggie, and she was your best friend. I can understand you not grieving for the Trimbol’s because as much as you’ll deny it, you’re still grieving for Charlene.”

“But I’m not,” she paused, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. “Yeah, I- I miss her, but it isn’t grief that I’m feeling. Grief… I felt that when my dad died. This… This is different. It’s anger. I want someone to pay for Charlene’s death, I want Walker and his people held accountable for what they did and I- I want someone to pay for the Trimbol’s… But I don’t want it to be Troy. It’s just- we’ve all lost so much, y’know? My dad, Charlene, our friends… I don’t want to lose Troy as well.”

“…You wanna pretend he didn’t kill an entire family because they decided to leave the ranch, then that’s up to you,” Jake shrugged weakly. “I know my dad isn’t going to do anything about it. No one here will. He’ll get away with it, like he gets away with everything else.”

Maggie raised an eyebrow. “You sound a little bitter about your kid brother there, Jake.”

“Not bitter,” he shook his head. “Just… tired. Of having to clean up his messes all the time.

“Better than having to clean up dead bodies like nowadays.”

“Yeah…” Jake paused, a smirk coming to lips as he nudged her. “Hey, things I don’t miss about the old world – not having to clean up dead bodies.”

Maggie snorted, letting herself fall backwards so she was lying down on the bed as she tried of think of something to say. This was their favourite game, listing things they missed from before the outbreak. It had been Charlene who had started it, a mindless way to pass time and keep them occupied, to keep Maggie’s mind off what was going on outside of the ranch, and it had stuck.

“Things I miss about the old world…” Maggie paused, humming to herself as Jake lay beside her, propping himself up with his elbow and glancing down at her. “Butter popcorn.”

“Work.”

Maggie pulled a face. “Work? You miss work?”

Jake shrugged. “I liked work.”

“I don’t miss college at all,” she shuddered. “I miss getting drunk at college, I miss the dorm parties and the cute boys and-”

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” Jake laughed quietly. “I don’t really want to hear about your drunken hook-ups, Mags.”

“Yeah, sorry,” she chuckled quietly, pushing her hair off her face as she felt her cheeks flush. “I guess I miss being at college. Like, I miss the people there, my friends, even some of the tutors. I miss the experience. I do not miss the work.”

“I miss movies.”

“I also miss movies.”

“That’s cheating,” Jake reached forwards, poking her stomach and letting his hand stay there, lying gently on top of Maggie’s checked shirt. “No repeats.”

“Fine,” she muttered, rolling her eyes and trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach as the heat from Jake’s hand soaked through her shirt. “I miss TV,” she told him, turning to look at him with a grin. “I really miss TV. I miss mind-numbingly bad TV that you could never admit you even liked, but that you’d never miss an episode of. Me and Charlene, we used to get so much junk food and just crash in front of the TV in her room on a Saturday night. I miss that. I-I miss Charlene.”

“I know,” Jake whispered. “Me, too.”

“Mom wouldn’t want to leave if Charlene was here and even she did, she always knew how to talk Mom round. I don’t want to go out there, Jake,” Maggie admitted, her voice hoarse. “I don’t want to leave this place, I don’t want to leave you or- or Troy-”

“You don’t have to,” Jake interrupted, his arm inching across her stomach as he awkwardly hugged her closer to him. “You don’t have to go anywhere, Maggie. Even if they leave, you can stay. You can move your stuff in here, stay in the house with us.”

“She’d never let me-”

“Your mom wouldn’t be here, Mags,” Jake told her. “She can’t make you leave, I- I won’t let her. No one here will. It’s safe here, and you can stay as long as you want.”

“Yeah…” she paused, biting down on her bottom lip and tearing her gaze away from his. “I miss my mom being cool with me going wherever I wanted to go.”

“Back to this?” Jake raised his eyebrows and Maggie nodded her head. She needed a distraction from everything – from the Trimbol’s, from her mother and Dax wanting to leave… from Troy. “Okay. I miss peanut butter.”

“Pop tarts.”

“Pancakes.”

“Justin Timberlake.”

Jake blinked. “What?”

“Justin Timberlake,” Maggie repeated with a dramatic sigh. “I miss him.”

“Sorry, I didn’t realise you knew Justin Timberlake on a personal level.”

Maggie reached up, hitting Jake’s chest. “You know what I mean.”

“I guess,” Jake paused. “I kind of miss Megan Fox.”

“Megan Fox was hot.”

“Yeah,” Jake paused. “I miss… order. Normalcy.”

“Really?” Maggie raised her eyebrow. “You don’t think it’s so much better now that we that just walk into any shop and take whatever we want? Providing we miss the walking corpses, of course.”

“No,” Jake scoffed.

“I guess I kind of miss it, too,” she mused. “Only a little, though. I do like getting free stuff.”

“…I miss being safe.”

“I miss not getting hit in the face by angry old men,” Maggie snorted, pointing to her eye which had started to bruise slightly and Jake frowned, removing his arm from around her waist and gently placing his hand on her cheek, turning her face to him. “That was a joke. I’m fine.”

“It’s starting to bruise.”

“I know. It’s like my first war-wound, it’s great.”

“Maggie…” Jake started carefully, his hand resting against her cheek. “You shouldn’t have done that. You should never put yourself between Troy and my father, alright? Don’t… Don’t do that again.”

“I won’t,” she whispered. “I’m… I’m sorry I never told you… About me and Troy. I just- I guess I didn’t want you to know? It’s not like- we’re not-”

“You don’t have to explain.”

“I do,” Maggie insisted. “I do have to explain, because you’ve been so good to me, Jake, and Troy is… I know how you feel about your brother, okay? I know you think he’s no good, but-”

“That’s not it,” Jake shook his head. “He can be good when he wants to be. I just don’t think he’s any good for you and I know I’m right. You got hurt because of him.”

Maggie frowned. “I got hurt because I threw myself in front of him to stop Jeremiah beating the crap out of him again. I got hurt because I didn’t want to see him hurt. It wasn’t Troy’s fault. Besides, your eye is way worse. That was Troy’s fault.”

“Even if you getting hurt was his fault, you wouldn’t admit it,” Jake pursed his lips. “It’s hard acknowledging the flaws of people we love.”

Maggie paused, her breath catching in her throat as Jake removed his hand from her face and she swallowed the lump in her throat, turning her head to stare at the ceiling. Love? No. Jake was wrong. She didn’t love Troy. Sure, she cared about him, but love? …No. That was too much.

“I don’t love Troy.”

“No?” Jake raised his eyebrows. “So you put yourself between him and my dad just because you’re sleeping together? Really?”

Maggie turned to face him again, a scowl on her face. “You’re making it sound much worse than it is.”

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt, Maggie.”

“I won’t-”

“People tend to get hurt around Troy.”

Pushing herself up on her elbows, Maggie stared at Jake curiously. She expected him to look away, but he didn’t. He stared right back at her, his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed slightly.

“…You think Troy is going to hurt me,” she said slowly, realisation dawning on her.

“I think Troy is going to get you killed, Maggie,” Jake murmured, running a hand through his short hair. “And I can’t let that happen. I can’t. I promised Charlene I’d look out for you and- and if I don’t-…”

“Hey, stop,” Maggie spoke softly, taking Jake’s face in her hands. “I can take care of myself, okay? You taught me how to take care of myself. I’ll be okay-”

“That’s not it,” Jake interrupted, lifting his hands up to cover hers. “The way he is… He wants a war with Walker, he’s not going to give up Maggie, and that’s going to get people killed. The people here… They aren’t soldiers. They’re just families who had nowhere else to go. They can kill the dead, but the living? That’s a whole other story.”

“They’ll fight if they have to-”

“Are you trying to tell me you’d have no problem picking up a weapon and killing a living person?”

Maggie paused, her jaw clenched and her face blank as she took her hands from Jake’s face and let them drop to her sides, her hands balling into fists.

“Would I have a problem killing the people who shot down the helicopter my sister was in? The people who stopped her from coming home? Would I have a problem shooting at the people who tried to kill you? Who tried to kill Troy?” Maggie raised her eyebrows. “No, Jake, I wouldn’t have a problem with it at all, and I don’t think a lot of people here would, either. They’re the reason Charlene is dead-”

“Charlene was attacked by-”

“I know what she was attacked by, Jake, and she never would have been out there in the first place if they hadn’t shot at the helicopter,” Maggie shook her head, taking a step backwards. “If they come here, if they come to attack us, I’ll be ready.”

“It’s not going to come to that,” Jake told her. “I’m going to talk to them, if I leave now I should be back in a day or two and-”

“Wait, what?” Maggie asked, her hand reaching out as she wrapped her fingers around Jake’s wrist to stop him from turning away from her. “No, you’re not going out there.”

Jake raised his eyebrows. “You hook up with Troy a couple times and suddenly you think you have a say in what I can and can’t do?”

Maggie’s nostrils flared in anger. “Enough of the digs, okay? You don’t know a thing about what’s going on between Troy and I, and I don’t particularly like whatever it is you’re insinuating. I care about him. That doesn’t change who I am, it doesn’t change who I am to you, does it?” she asked. “It doesn’t change the fact that you and I are friends, or at least it shouldn’t do. It definitely doesn’t change the fact that I am going to tell you when I think you’re being an idiot, Jake, and now is one of those times.”

Jake looked down, sighing softly. “I’m sorry,” he apologised. “Whatever I say about you and Troy… I’m just trying to come to terms with it. It was a surprise, finding out the way I did. I thought you would have told me something like that.”

“Oh, yeah,” Maggie scoffed with a roll of her eyes. “’Hey Jake, thanks for showing me how to load that rifle! By the way, did you know I’m sleeping with your brother?’. I’m sure that would have gone down swimmingly.”

“Maybe not,” Jake snorted, pausing before he turned serious again, refusing to meet her gaze. “I have to do this, Maggie. I have to talk to Walker. I can stop this, I can stop whatever kind of war he’s going to start.”

“You don’t have-”

“It’s the only way I can keep you safe,” he interrupted, lifting his head up to look at her. “I can make some kind of deal with him and even- even if he does come, I can… I can do something, offer him something so no harm comes to you.”

“Jake…” Maggie trailed off, taking a step towards him and lifting her hand to his cheek. “You don’t need to do this. I can take care of myself. I know you promised Charlene, but-”

“You think I’m doing this because of Charlene?” Jake asked with a frown as Maggie’s hand dropped from his face and she shrugged weakly. “…You really don’t know, do you?” he asked in disbelief, and Maggie stared up at him in confusion. “God, Maggie, I- I love you.”

“Wha- I-”

“No, don’t,” Jake put a finger against her lips. “Don’t, it’s okay. I know you don’t, that’s why I didn’t say anything, but… Maggie, I have for a while. Even before Charlene died, I’ve had these… these feelings and- I never said anything because you were her sister, y’know? And she wouldn’t have been okay with it and maybe a part of me even saw you and Troy getting closer, but… I love you, Maggie. And I have to do everything I can to protect you, to protect this ranch and keep us safe. That’s why I have to go. You understand that, right?”

Maggie blinked up at him, his words taking their time to register in her mind and before she even knew what was happening, Jake had pulled her towards him and lips were on hers.

It was different than kissing Troy.

Jake’s lips were softer, his touch was gentle and more hesitant than Troy’s, almost like he was afraid she would pull away from him. It made her feel… different. It made her feel.

Troy’s kisses lit a fire inside her and she knew whenever he kissed her that it would lead to something else. It always did. They never just made out, as childish as it sounded, and as first Maggie hadn’t cared. Whatever she and Troy were, it was just sex. She knew that. The whole thing between them had started because she simply wanted to feel something, something other than the dull ache in her chest whenever she thought of her father, something better than the numbness that had settled over her and made itself at home since she had found out her sister wasn’t coming home. Troy had made that go away, even if was just for an hour or two.

But Jake… Jake’s kisses were a whole lot different.

Warmth flooded through Maggie’s veins as his lips moved against his and he wrapped an arm around her waist as she clutched the front of his t-shirt. They had practically melted against one another, as though they were two halves of one whole, but she still wanted to get closer to him and she could feel butterflies filling her stomach.

But it was guilt that she felt most, and that realisation made her eyes snap open as she pushed Jake away from her, both of them breathing heavily as Maggie stumbled backwards and brought her hand to her mouth, the tips of her fingers touching her lips softly.

Her lips were tingling.

“Maggie… I-”

“Don’t,” she held a hand up as he took a step towards her and she automatically took one back. “Just… don’t.”

“Maggie? You in here?”

She froze as Troy’s voice drifted up the stairs and she heard the front door close behind him as she shot a panicked look towards Jake.

“You don’t have to talk to him if-”

“I’m up here!” she called back before she could stop herself, running her hands through her hair as she heard his footsteps coming up the stairs. He appeared in the doorway of Jake’s room, a frown on his face as he leaned he looked between the two of them.

Jake turned his back on his brother almost immediately, while Maggie shifted uncomfortably and tucked her hair behind her ear and she refused to meet Troy’s gaze.

“…Can I talk to you?” he asked, and Maggie’s eyes darted between the two brothers.

“Uh-…”

“In private?” Troy interrupted, casting a glance towards his older brother.

“Uhm, o-okay,” she stuttered, smiling weakly and taking a step towards him. “I… I guess I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah,” Jake muttered. “Hey, Maggie?” he called and she stopped just before she left his room, Troy pausing ahead of her as he raised his eyebrows at his brother. Jake glared at him for a second, before his expression softened as he turned his attention back to Maggie. “…Be careful.”

Smiling weakly, Maggie ignored Troy’s scoff and shrugged her shoulders as she stepped out of the room.

“I always am.”

#ocappreciation #allaboutocs #troy otto #jake otto #troy otto x oc #jake otto x oc #fear the walking dead #fic: breakdown #maggie daley #maggiextroy #maggiexjake #is anyone would like more please let me know!!#maybe even send some requests about what you want to see???#endlesslistofocs #i know this is mainly maggie x jake but i think i've got another (shorter) troy one planned too

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spotlightsaga · 7 years

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Kevin Cage of @spotlightsaga reviews... Fear the Walking Dead (S03E03) TEOTWAWKI Airdate: June 11, 2017 @amc @amc-walking-dead Ratings: 2.504 Million :: 1.02 18-49 Demo Share Score: 7.25/10 @amc-fearthewalkingdead TVTime/FB/Twitter/Tumblr/IG/Path: @SpotlightSaga **********SPOILERS BELOW********** Ever start watching an episode and ask yourself if what you are watching is even the right series? That's how 'TEOTWAWKI' kicks off FearTWD's 3x03, in a bit of a complete mindfuck... And since that's exactly how we like our horror, I gotta say that this is exactly what we want from creators Robert Kirkman & Dave Erickson when it comes to this series. S3 started off with a 2-parter, the first of which was a complete mess... It did its job however and quickly moved the pieces and characters of a show that had felt largely displaced since the S2 mid-season finale, when all the characters were quite literally separated and repositioned. Part 2 raised the stakes and showed a new leader emerging to the family forefront. No not Jeremiah Otto (Dayton Callie), tho Jeremiah is quite the enthralling question mark with tension radiating from his being, unmatched to any other current character on the show... The reference belongs to Madison (Kim Dickens) who has grown from meek, frightened wannabe-humanitarian in S1 & S2 to strong, focused, matriarch at the start of S3. Her switch is so refreshing, it reminds me of my favorite aspect of TWD Universe, with the evolution of Carol over the course of 7-Seasons... Without her I'm not sure I'd keep coming back to the show again and again through rough patches of writing and that spacious chapterized-style storytelling that TWD has adopted and clung onto so tightly. FearTWD is no different, it's shown us that it can go up & down and back & forth, but that the viewer should show allegiance, because the reward is greater than the risk... The slow-burn and psychological & sociological heavy emphasis creates compelling television, period. Here we are, and in just 3-episodes it feels like like FTWD has literally leaped across the Grand Canyon. The set-up is REAL. The writers and creators, this episode specifically written by S1 'Revenge' contributor Ryan Scott, have positioned Matriarch vs Patriarch, or at least that's what I'm begging for it to eventually come down to. Nick (Frank Dillane) remains the family wild card, but seems to fall in line under the sudden soft-motherly authoritarian switch Madison has embraced, even attempting to sway Luciana to stay put and stick to the plan that Madison is forming. After all, 'some plan' is better than roaming with 'no plan', Nick should be very well aware of this firsthand. Alicia (Alycia Debnam-Carey) remains her mother's faithful, running off to what her mother thought was a Christian Rock band/teen bible study group. Alicia quickly finds out that Gretchen Trimbol's (Rae Gray) Bible Band is really an angsty get-together that resembles the most normal thing to teen life Alicia has probably seen in years, maybe ever. They smoke bongs and center their group in a basement that oddly resembles the one of 'That 70's Show', placing a zombie head in a birdcage named Jeff in the middle of their teenage pow-wow... Just consider him their post-apocalyptic, living-dead, magic 8-Ball... Only Jeff doesn't tell them their futures, but they do joke and speak for Jeff, which I can see taking a very hard and disturbing left turn. Sure, it's almost relieving and funny in a way for Alicia now, but there's something significantly unsettling about this whole picture. Teenagers can be dangerous, they haven't developed a good sense of empathy yet, which makes them borderline sociopathic... And in this environment, that's a terrifying thought. While the teenagers and Jeremiah Otto gain steam in the 'potential threat' department, Troy (Daniel Sharman) almost seems to be losing his menacing edge... Proving once more that where you start out in the TWD Universe isn't where you necessarily end up. That's not to say that Troy won't have some sort of relapse and engage in a psychotic break, but his almost overkill 'Dudley Do-Right' brother, Jake (Sam Underwood), and the revealing of the boys' now deceased, drunkard mother, Tracy Otto (Emma Caulfield), paints a picture of two boys that withstood damage and went separate ways in terms of psychological consequences. If one is ying and the other is yang, then underneath their surface lies an opposite of their light and dark essences... Meaning, I don't necessarily expect these two to stay in the positions that they currently hold forever. If anything, Jake is far more passionately devoted to his father than Troy. This may actually prove useful to Madison and her clan somewhere down the line. Irony can always be expected and absorbed in the realm of post apocalyptic, psychological horror. Victor Strand (Colman Domingo) is basically on another planet, riding around, searching for someone he shouldn't be... His former associate, Dante (Jason Manuel Olazabal). Strand has been running scheme after scheme since losing his money in Katrina and not all of his financial victims fell for his deep, silky voice and natural charisma like his late partner, Thomas. Dante was basically waiting for the man to show up, clearly excitable and boisterous on his arrival, showing off his ruthless tactics and liquid currency then threatening to throw him over a large dam and then actually throwing him in a cage. Remember folks, if a character doesn't die on screen, then they are most likely still alive. I've heard a lot of talk about Daniel being some kind of mirage, that's clearly not the case. I would have preferred to see some sort of fire damage to Daniel's face or body, though we may see signs of that later, but I guess showing that would immediately ruin the excitement and mystery of Daniel's sudden reappearance. FTWD continues to move into the right direction, now slowly positioning characters into their natural positions instead of tossing them where they need to go as quickly as possible as shown in the S3 opener. There's a lot of talk about ratings, which I have included at the top of the review. While it's true that FTWD has slowly tapered off from a massive start in S1, it's still doing quite well for a show on cable. It remains AMC's 2nd highest rated series on the network. Just because a show doesn't get TWD like numbers, doesn't mean that it isn't successful. It looks to me like FTWD has found its cushion, so to speak, and will most likely waver slightly above & below this current number, barring premieres and finales. Even dropping a few more points in the coveted 18-49 demo will not hurt this series one bit. FearTWD carries on...

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ao3-rickylmerthurj2 · 5 years

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A Dream Of Life Again by <a rel="author" href="/users/hummingrightalong/pseuds/hummingrightalong">hummingrightalong</a>, <a rel="author" href="/users/itslifethatscaresmetodeath/pseuds/itslifethatscaresmetodeath">itslifethatscaresmetodeath</a>

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2SlKhiQ

by hummingrightalong, itslifethatscaresmetodeath

Takes place inside the FTWD/TWD crossover but stands alone.

Rick wants a baby Daryl, and Beth is willing to help make that happen. If only Daryl can get over some irrational fears (of certain bodily fluids).

Words: 1440, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV), Fear the Walking Dead (TV)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/F, M/M

Characters: Beth Greene, Judith Grimes, Gretchen Trimbol, Carl Grimes, Enid (Walking Dead), Rick Grimes, Daryl Dixon

Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Rick Grimes

Additional Tags: Asexual Character, Asexual Daryl Dixon, beth/gretchen mentioned, growing Grimes family, fear of bodily fluids, spermophobia

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2SlKhiQ

#ao3feed #fanfic #rickyl #rickyl fics #fics

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ftwdb · 3 months

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Don't Say Go.

Chapter 14.

You were never very good at getting people gifts. What made it even harder was to get someone a gift during an uprising of the dead when you had also accidentally got them shot in the foot.

Troy walked beside you with his arm slung lazily over your shoulder as you neared Mike’s caravan. He was smirking and trying not to laugh out loud as you listed off ideas of how to make up for his lost toe.

“I don’t know why you’re worrying so much, I was the one who shot him.”

You rolled your eyes, refusing to be drawn into another argument over who bore the most responsiblity for the events that occurred a few days ago.

“Isn’t he your best friend? I just want him to like me-“

“He will like you.” Troy said confidently.

“How can you know that?” I frowned, unconvinced.

Troy gazed down at you with a lop-sided grin as you scowled.

“Because I like you.” He teased, pulling you closer to his side.

Since the night spent in your bunk Troy had become more outwardly affectionate toward you, not caring who saw the way you held his hand or how his arm would wind possessively around your waist. You had blushed at breakfast that morning when Gretchen had raised her eyebrows at the sight before winking at you across the canteen.

You mostly ignored the curious eyes and whispers from the others. Your growing relationship with your soulmate meant far more to you than gossip from a group of strangers. And if Troy didn’t care what people thought than neither did you.

Except, of course, for the people that mattered most in his life. You may have formed a sibling like attachment to Jake and Cooper always gave you a friendly nod whenever you made eye-contact but you still had Jeremiah and Mike to win over.

Troy didn’t understand your need to be liked, to be welcomed by those who were family by both blood and bond, but he indulged your desire to try with some amusement.

You reached the caravan where Mike and his family were staying, a large canopy was set up beside it giving them far more space than any other rancher. You supposed it was a perk of being a Trimbol and one of the founding fathers, or so Troy had explained.

He’d pointed out the Brown’s home further in the distance and explained that Russell lived with his wife whilst Phil McCarthy was more of a loner who remained at an outpost away from the ranch. You’d made a mental note to introduce yourself to the couple, apparently Mrs Brown loved to gossip so Troy had conveniently remembered some other duty he had to attend to whenever you suggested an appropriate time to visit.

Troy knocked none too gently on the caravan door, his arm still wrapped around you as it swung open to reveal Mrs Trimbol’s sour expression. You hesitated, not having expected to have to face Mike’s mother.

“Your son around?” Troy asked easily, “or has he run off somewhere?”

You tried to discreetly elbow him in the ribs as Mrs Trimbol’s mouth tightened into a thin line. She seemed to be avoiding looking at you.

“Troy,” she said tightly as a way of welcome, “he’s inside. Recovering.”

Troy rolled his eyes but the cocky grin never left his face.

You stood a little sheepishly, your feet fidgeting in the grass as you dropped your gaze. Troy must have sensed your discomfort, either through the connection you shared or your sudden tension. You felt something spike in your chest, a feeling that wasn’t your own. Annoyance? At Mike or at your less than warm welcome, you weren’t sure. These shared emotions between you were becoming more regular as you grew closer but were still confusing.

“We just came to wish him well, Mrs T.” Troy drawled. “But if Mike is too busy being a puss-“

“Alright, I’m here!”

Mike appeared over his mother’s shoulder, gently prying her from her defensive stance in the doorway as he hobbled from the steps leading inside and landed on the grass with a wince. He closed the door behind him before his mother could speak and eyed Troy with a wary eye.

“You’re lucky she thought you were a cute kid. If Gretch or I spoke to her like that she’d knock our heads off.”

Troy shrugged and snorted. “What do you mean were? I’m still cute.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes. Troy had his moments but cute wasn’t exactly the word you’d use for him. The words you would use brought a slight blush to your cheeks which neither man noticed, thankfully.

You couldn’t help but notice how at ease Troy seemed around Mike compared to Jake. He seemed more relaxed, his smile genuine if teasing. You tucked the observation away for another time to consider.

“Mike,” you finally spoke, “I wanted to say how sorry I am for what happened. I… wasn’t myself. I didn’t know it was you chasing after me.”

Troy interjected before Mike could respond.

“I’ve already told her you’re good with what happened, but she insisted on apologising in person.”

Mike, without the gaze of his mother upon him, also seemed more relaxed even if you could tell he was struggling to stand at his full height without putting weight on his injured foot. It was as if he didn’t want to show weakness in front of Troy, which made sense you supposed. He was technically his superior within the militia.

Also you were sure there was some male pride involved in the whole interaction.

Mike ducked his head and offered a lazy smile. His hair was shaggy and his beard well overdue some maintenance.

“You know, I can help you with that.” You said gesturing to his hair as a sudden idea came to mind.

“You some kind of stylist, before?”

You shrugged, “Sort of, for a while.”

Pre-apocalypse you’d been a student working part time jobs to earn some money as you figured out what path you wanted to follow in life. You’d spent some time learning to cut and style hair before moving on to your next job whilst you procrastinated on choosing which subject you would commit to studying.

When you’d asked Troy about his school life he’d gone quiet before changing the subject. Perhaps getting to know Mike might help you learn a little more about Troy.

“I can’t make you look any worse. And I promise not to drop the scissors on your other toe.”

Both men laughed and the sound helped put you at ease.

“You know what, sure. It’s either you or my mother and if she had it her way she’d leave me as bald as Coop.”

You said your goodbyes and you walked away from the camp site with a spring in your step. Troy nudged you, giving you a sideways glance that clearly said told you without him have to speak.

“Do you feel better now?” He smiled.

“You know I do.” You smiled back.

And you did. Was this finally it? The lightness in your heart, was this the way you were supposed to feel with your soulmate? It felt good.

It was hard to think that you’d almost thought Troy would turn his back on you. You felt guilty, having doubted him. Especially since Troy had taken care of everything before he’d come back to you in the bunk, moving the body of the man you had… who had died… far from the ranch.

“What did you do with… it?” You asked the next day, unable to bring yourself to say the word “he”, to acknowledge the monster who had hurt you as human.

Troy had said nothing for a few moments as if weighing up whether to tell you the truth or not. You supposed you didn’t really care as long as you’d never have to set eyes upon that burned face again.

“Finished the job someone started on him.” Troy said eventually. “There wasn’t much left in the end.”

Finish the job? It took you a moment to realise…

“You burned…?”

No burial. No, people buried people. Not monsters.

You’d felt a tug in your chest and looked up to meet Troy’s eyes. He was watching you closely with that expression you hadn’t quite figured out how to read yet. You felt within you to the bond you shared but whatever he was feeling wasn’t strong enough for you to read at that moment.

“Something wrong?” He asked.

You had shaken your head, trying to keep your expression calm as you inwardly fought off the memories of hands all over your body, the smell of alcohol and fire and burning skin…

Troy stepped closer.

“Because you’re shaking,” he had told you.

You raised your hands slightly and realised he was right. Your body had begun to tremble, how had you not noticed?

Carefully, as if waiting for you to give him permission, Troy began to wrap an arm around you and pull you against his chest. You couldn’t help the way you collapsed against him. You felt as if you would cry at any moment but no tears would come.

His embrace grew steady and firm, but not tight enough that you felt trapped against him. He would have offered you comfort if there had been any to give.

“You can tell me, you know. Anything.”

You closed your eyes and listened to his steady heartbeat beneath your ear. Troy didn’t need you describe the horrors you’d been put through. Between everything that had been said already he could figure out the men he’d saved you from before were not the first to try and harm you.

“It was me,” you’d said quietly, almost hoping it had been too quiet for him to hear. “I burned him. Him and his father, while they slept…”

The words kept coming and Troy merely waited patiently as you confessed to your own monstrous act.

“I wanted them to feel it. All the pain and fear they inflicted on me.”

Troy made a sound low in his throat. You’d waited for him to recoil from you or begin asking questions, he simply held you until your trembling stopped and your breathing slowed back to a normal pace.

“Do you think I’m a terrible person?” You had whispered against his chest.

Troy did move away this time, but it had only been to look you in the eye.

“Never.”

You tried to believe him. You remembered his words before. How he understood having to do things that were necessary…

If only he could have found the words to tell you that what you’d done was a mercy compared to what he would do given the chance to get his hands on those men now. But you had taken justice into your own hands and he could only admire you for it.

Troy had been so afraid when he’d found you. Afraid you would die. Afraid you would leave. Afraid you would see him for who he really was and be just as revolted by him as everyone else in his life. His father turned a blind eye, his brother made excuses and his “friends” were either too scared to say anything or just relieved to have someone else willing to do the dirty work so they wouldn’t have to that they pretended not to see the darkest parts of him.

His mother had never hidden what she thought of him though. She could see the rot that had taken root in him as a child, she’d told him daily before she died how she wished she were strong enough to take him with her. She couldn’t leave Troy to be a burden on the world.

And then the world had changed, and Troy was no longer a burden or a thing to be frightened and ashamed of. Troy understood the world now.

And you, when he’d seen you wield that knife over Derek’s bloody throat he’d known everything he’d been through had been to lead him to you.

A mere few days had changed so much, but as Troy led you through the ranch he could finally believe that in his soulmate he had found the only person who could understand and accept him.

You allowed yourself to be led by Troy as he finally gave you a much overdue tour of the entire ranch. You scratched the heads of the cows and horses as they wandered the fields, were shown the fields they grew crops and Troy explained how they gathered power for electricity in the house. You didn’t walk all the way to Jake’s place, but Troy pointed it out and you waved to a distant figure who was sat atop the roof whom you assumed was his brother. He tolerated a whole thirty minutes talking to the Brown’s until they’d started talking wistfully about their wedding day - which apparently had taken place not long after The Pull had drawn them together.

Troy made and excuse for you to leave as soon as you were given pointed looks when Mrs Brown offered to show you her wedding dress.

You laughed as you walked the hill back to the main campsite as Troy looked horrified.

“I could be offended you know!” You mocked as he shot you a sideways look. “Perhaps I’ve always dreamed of being a bride!”

Troy groaned, “I’ve never seen the point to be honest. My father married twice and was just twice as miserable.”

You quietened at the mention of Jeremiah. You hadn’t seen nor heard from him since the night of, well, the incident.

Troy hadn’t brought him up either and you wondered if that was a good sign, or him simply avoiding a difficult conversation.

Your sudden shift in mood didn’t go unnoticed and Troy reached for your hand, pulling you against him.

“Hey I didn’t mean anything by that.”

You shook off the worry on your features and smiled, “I know. I was thinking about… it doesn’t matter.”

Troy squeezed at your hand gently.

“If it’s on your mind if matters.”

I took a deep breath.

“I was thinking about… your dad.”

A series of expressions crossed Troy’s face, from confusion to disgust.

You slapped playfully at his chest before your own expression grew more serious.

“I just meant I’m surprised he hasn’t had more to say about everything that’s happened. Have you spoken to him since…?”

Troy’s nod was slow and deliberate, as if buying some time before he’d have to answer any more questions. Your stomach drops.

“Not good, is it?”

Troy sighed.

“My old man’s a pain in the ass. You shouldn’t be worrying about him.”

How could you not? Jeremiah was head of the ranch and although the place wasn’t run like a dictatorship you knew he held a lot of influence over people.

“I don’t understand why he hates me.” You say flatly. When Troy remained silent you send him a sideways glance before speaking again. “That was very reassuring, thank you Troy.”

Blue eyes snap to yours and Troy frowns.

“What?”

You get caught between a sigh and a chuckle as Troy’s shoulders stiffen.

“Relax, I was just messing with you. Look we don’t have to talk about your dad, not today. Let’s just enjoy ourselves.”

You try to coax Troy out of his mood for a little longer but it’s clear there is something on his mind. Something he isn’t ready to share. You feel within you to the connection keeping you bound and find what feels like a wall…

You try to keep my worried expression off my face, but of course Troy can sense how you are feeling and he nudges you softly with his elbow.

"Hey, don't overthink it. You're here with me now. I'm not letting anything change that."

You try to smile and swallow down your concern. However Troy learning to keep a wall up between you was something that certainly caused you more worry.

#troy otto #fear the walking dead #ftwd #ftwd fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #fear the walking dead fanfic #ftwdfanfic #troy otto x reader #soulmates #soulmate au #don't say go fic

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thatsweetsexypsychotroyotto · 5 years

Text

I'm Not a Bad Person- Chapter 6

SUMMARY: Troy Otto does have feelings you know. He's in the process of figuring them out; especially when it comes to his childhood friend, Jaymie. Whatever they are, they're rooted deep, and they're growing.

WARNINGS: Language, Warped thoughts, Violence.

WORD COUNT: Fuck if I know.

PAIRING: Troy Otto x OFC

AUTHOR'S NOTE: My plan is to follow along with the events of season 3, but with my OFC involved. I'll veer off plenty of times and probably switch shit up completely. Not sure yet. We'll be exploring different characters' perspectives throughout the series. I'm not great at this writing thing but I try my best. Hope you like it enough. All characters except my OFC don't belong to me.

*******

Chapter 6

(Jaymie's POV)

The next day, a memorial service was held to honor Charlene- Jeremiah's goddaughter. She was the pilot of the helicopter that Jake, Alicia, Luciana, and Travis were on. She survived the crash, but the dead got her on the way back to the ranch.

To be honest, I didn't like Charlie. She was such a bitch to me. It was because her dad had an affair with my mom, and her parents split up. So she took her anger out on me.

One particular day she was talking shit; telling our mutuals I'd end up a whore just like my mother. That was stupid of her, mostly because Troy happened to be walking by. He turned and made a beeline straight to Charlene and decked her; no questions asked. I laughed my ass off when I found out. Wish I could have seen it first hand.

Naturally, Troy got in sooo much trouble. Mainly because he hit a girl. Pretty hypocritical of Jeremiah, but he was a "Do as I say, not as I do," type of parent. So, Troy was grounded for a month. That didn't stop me from sneaking in to the Otto's house every single night though. I'd take him desert and we'd stay up till 3 or 4 in the morning playing cards and board games.

Anyway, after Charlie's service, it was lunch time. I worked the line with my friend Gretchen, scooping globs of mac and cheese onto everyones' trays. Madison and Alicia were approaching, and I heard a community resident giving them a hard time. I felt bad for them, until Alicia said that people should be harassing Troy instead of them. Madison responded, 'I think they would be if they knew what he had done.' I know what Troy did was fucked up. That won't stop me from defending him though. Nothing will. I guess that makes me fucked up too; and I'm fine with that.

Both Madison and Alicia stopped abruptly, making eye contact with me. They realized I was serving, and that I most likely heard what they said. I tried not to let it show that it bothered me, but I know my eyes looked sad.

Gretchen broke the awkward silence with her subtle humor and kind words. Then she invited Alicia to attend one of her "Bible studies" (which was actually just a handful of our friends getting together to drink and smoke pot). There was no hiding Alicia's reluctance, but Madison practically made the decision for her to go. I'm grateful for it, because I need to figure Alicia out. Is she trustworthy? Could I see myself becoming friends with her?

***

About 2 hours later...

(Jake's POV)

How am I going to convince Troy that he needs to stay away from the Clarks? Ever since T.E. began he's been harder to control. I need Jaymie's help on this. She's the only person who has more influence on him than I do.

I find the two of them working together on mending one of the crops' fences. Both their faces are plastered with smiles. They kneel, preparing to wrap extra barbed wire around the bottom of a post. I can't make out what they're saying, but Jaymie throws her head back with a vivacious laugh. She nudges Troy with her shoulder, and he retaliates with a playful shove, causing her to topple over. She counterattacks by throwing a handful of dirt at him. They're honestly adorable.

It's a heartwarming sight to watch my brother in normal-human-being mode; and genuinely happy. Jaymie's good for him. Except on occasion she tends to enable his psychotic side. Though I'll admit that many times his semi-sociopathic behavior has been in her defense. He saw nothing wrong with it when he ki- ...never mind. I don't want to think about that. Anyway, the pros still outweigh the cons by a long shot, and they really are a good match. I kind of thought they'd have gotten together by now.

Troy offers Jaymie a hand and pulls her back to a kneeling position. She tries to wipe the dirt off that she threw at him, but she's actually making it worse since her hands are covered in soil. They're still laughing when I reach them.

Troy notices my presence and his smile falters slightly. "The boar's back. Keeps digging up the fence posts to get to the cabbage. Could use an extra pair of hands tracking it tonight."

May as well cut to the chase. "Stay away from Madison and her family."

"They're my friends."

"They came here under my invite. They trust me."

"They came here not to get eaten. I wouldn't flatter yourself."

Jaymie snickers at Troy's response, then looks at me with a grin she tries to suppress.

"Yeah, but they're staying cause I said I'd protect them- from you.

"And how are you going to do that?"

I knew this would be difficult. "Please don't do this, Troy. Please. I'm the one who still believes in you."

"Well I don't need you to anymore."

"Yeah, you do. If the ranch knew what you really are-"

"And what am I Jake?"

I look to Jaymie for an assist, but she's clearly upset with me. She stands and stalks toward me, grabbing my arm to pull me away from the scene. "What the hell would you say that for?!" She scolds me quietly.

"You know he broke in to Madison's cabin and threatened Nick?"

"And you're dumb enough to believe she's not over exaggerating?"

"Do you have any idea what he was doing at the depot? Do you?" Her expression is unreadable. "He was murdering people, Jaymie; timing how long it took them to change."

She sighs. "Yeah, yeah I know."

"Then why are you standing here upset with me?" I don't understand. She's acting like it was no big deal.

There's venom in her response. "Because of what you said to him back there, about what he is. You act like he's some kind of monster, Jake. He's your brother! Why would you say that?!"

I cannot believe what I'm hearing right now. So much for getting Jaymie on my side. I walk passed her and reapproach Troy. "Do you really think you were helping those people out at the depot?"

"I think I was helping all of us."

Alright. This is going nowhere. Let's try a different angle: "Troy, when Dad's gone, this is all on us. We have to take care of this place. We have to lead."

"Together." His tone sounds incredulous.

"Yeah. But I need you to do something for me. I need you to stay away from the Clarks. Do you hear me?"

"Yep. I hear you."

"Do you mean it?"

"I always mean it, Jake."

There's nothing more I can say. I turn to leave, and as I pass Jaymie, I beg her in a commanding tone, "Please help me with this. I need you on my side. Troy needs you on my side. He just doesn't realize it." She narrows her eyes at me with annoyed inquisitivity. "Just, think about it, alright?"

***

(Troy's POV)

Jaymie's so pissed off at Jake. She's always got my back. It doesn't matter who it is or what it's about. I know she doesn't agree with everything I've done. She does try and steer me in a different direction sometimes. I don't listen to her as much as I probably should, but whatever I end up doing, she never ever judges me. She's the only one. God, I love that girl... Wait, what?

"You alright?"

"Huh?" I didn't even notice she was by my side again.

"Forget what Jake said."

"Wasn't even thinking about it."

"Good." She gets back to helping me with the barbed wires, in silence, until, "Maybe we should both avoid Nick and Madison. Just for now?"

"Nah, I'm gonna have Nick help out with the boar tonight." I feel her looking at me. "It'll be fine, Jayms."

She considers my words for a moment then nods. "Alright. Well, I gotta get ready for Gretchen's Bible study. I'm gonna try and get to know Alicia; see what I think of her."

I give her a half-hearted smirk. "Have fun with that." I'm just bummed out she's leaving.

"I'll see you later?"

"Yeah. Later, Jayms." I watch her walk away, lost in the thought I had just a minute ago.

*******

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