━━━━━━𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒚-𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆.

  𝐀 𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 clock had never been this anger-inducing. The content, tick, tick, tick, began to crawl through Maisie's blood. If only she could tear that damn thing right from the wall, she'd throw it as far out the window as she could. The pair of eyes that burned holes into her brewed the anxiety in her chest, the brown orbs threatless, but it made her uneasy all the same. James was his name. A man who looked to be in his mid-forties, gray flecking both his dark hair and beard, muscled and uncomfortably familiar.

"My family?" A brief question, sure, but her tone was cold, intimidating. James narrowed his eyes. He knew all too well of the facade costuming her fear; he'd used the tactic many times himself, but still, the teenager before him accomplished her task of intimidation. "next door. Don't worry; they're safe." Sure they were. Maisie turned her blue gaze outside to the street, just as a family of three treads passed with a heavily pregnant mother. "nice community you have here. Small, homey, well secured." There, in the distance, she spotted a small playground. She hadn't seen one of those in ages, and the sight alone causes her mind to drift back to home.

"When's the last time you've been inside secure walls? You seem like quite the survivalist. Guarded, intimidating, ready for a fight." James eyes the gun tucked into her jeans. Mason shrugs, making yet another round through the living room. "can't be too careful these days." She wants to bolt straight from this man's house to the safety of her family. Her legs almost twitch towards the door. "going on two months, to answer your question." Too long.

"Look," Maisie finally meets James's eyes. "I get it. You have to make sure I'm all good before you let me into your community, but I'm not sticking around, so who gives a shit?" Her patience was wavering thin, and that damn clock was growing louder by the second. James holds her gaze for a long, quiet moment. Finally, he breaks the staring contest, raising his hand in mock surrender. "look, you and your group need rest. give it a day or two, and you'll be on your way." Mason nearly breaks her jaw from the intense grinding of her teeth.

"Two days, and we're gone."

━━━━

For a small community with limited people, they had everything: hot water, soft beds, and a food pantry. For the first time in months, Maisie had a hot meal in her stomach and a comfortable bed waiting for her up the stairs. The dining table held empty plates, Maisie nearly groaning exhaustion as she stretched out in her chair. "well, gentleman, I'm going to take a shower, and I guarantee you three won't have any hot water." Joel took her plate, cleaning the table from the china and cutlery as he rolls his eyes at his daughter's antics. "you're cruel." Tommy points an accusatory finger at the girl, Maisie merely shrugging. "I know."

How many towels could people need? The cupboard resting in the far corner of her temporary room is stocked to the brim with fluffy gray towels and beneath a care basket of sorts assorted with menstrual products. The sight of tampons and pads makes Maisie's heart stop midbeat, a realization of the fact that she hadn't had to go seeking such things for almost two months building bile in her throat. Behind them, as if taunting her, were two unopened pregnancy tests.

The shower's running, drowning out the noise of Mason's heartbeat in her ears. Her bare feet pad against the tile as she paces around the small bathroom, nothing but a simple towel wrapped around her body and two used pregnancy tests on the marbled sink.

━━━━

There's a knocking, a pounding on the door that makes Maisie's head throb. It's never-ending, growing more persistent each moment fist meets wood. The covers are entrancing, wrapping Maisie in their warmth, not one to let her escape so easy, so she pulls her pillow over her head. Finally, the person in the hallway groans, twisting the knob, opening the door wide. "hey you," Chris takes in the sight of the dozing girl, messy hair and one sweatpant leg rolled up to her knee while the other rests around her ankle, and he smiles. A warm, loving smile he's only worn for one Maisie Miller.

Only seeing this, Mason at peace, a handful of times was a gift. Though Chris knew while she put up a happy, content front, his best friend was suffering. "mind if I get a taste of this? The couch did a number on my back." He collapses next to her, almost groaning at the soft pleasure on his back and the sheets encasing him. A nudge on his arm, and then another, and finally, a head of brown hair rest on his chest, Maisie lazily slinging an arm around his torso. "couch?" She mumbles against the comfortable material of Chris's shirt, the fingers rubbing her scalp just about sending her into yet another peaceful sleep. "there were only two other beds. Let Tommy have the last one."

Mason barely gives a hum of acknowledgment, sleep swirling around her as Chris cards his fingers gently through her hair. Even in the tranquil, calm moment, there was a hanging tension in the air, and it was almost nauseating. "we need to go back to Jackson." There it was.

Maisie's pushed off of the young man's chest, smoothing a hand through her tousled locks. "please don't start, Chris." She sounds exhausted, run-down. However, Christopher stands his ground. "we don't even know precisely where Natalia is, Mason. We can't chase her forever, and you know that." He reaches out, fingers curling around his friend's elbow as she attempts the flee from the bed, pulling her back to the memory foam mattress.

"Andy is gone, and no matter who you kill, nothing will bring her back." The truth was hard, and Maisie could never accept it. Prying herself from Chris's grip, the teenager curls her hand around the doorknob. "I'm going to kill that son of a bitch, whatever it takes. You either stick with me, or you don't." The door slams shut, and everything is deathly silent.

James is kind. It's odd, in Maisie's eyes, for a stranger to be so giving. He didn't have an ulterior motive. She could sense as much, she could trust him, but Mason didn't want to.

"We have a checkpoint entering the bridge. Well guarded, a few lookouts." Red ink circled the location on the map before them. "Michael and I could take you there. It wouldn't be a problem." Michael had been with James upon finding the group in the crash. He was a friendly, gentle soul from what the graying man mentioned to Maisie. The co-leader of the small quaint community, she soon learned. "we couldn't ask you to do that." Joel interjected, the man leaning against the dining table, head hanging over the map of Seattle.

"You don't know the routes we've cleared. Think of us as your tour guides. We get you to the checkpoint and send you on your way, as quick as that. Now, it'll take at least two to three days on foot, but we shouldn't run into any problems." Maisie sighed, doubtful. She practically had a noose hanging around her neck while wandering the streets. James quirked a brow, folding the map in his hands. "there a problem?" The teenager peered up towards her father as if having a silent conversation until Joel shrugged his shoulders, safer to tell him now. "what do you know about the WLF?"

James stops in his movement, blood running cold. "too much."

It's warm. The sun melts over Riverbrooke, Maisie learned was the community's name. At first, she almost snorted in laughter. The title sounded so lighthearted in a way. The place was a former suburban family neighborhood, and it seemed as though James tried to maintain the happy environment.

"You were pretty rough for wear last time I saw you." A voice, unfamiliar, greets Maisie by the secure entry gates. A man, dark-skinned with a gentle smile, walks towards her with a backpack on his shoulders, rifle in hand. "Michael?" "the one and only." Michael extends a hand, Mason shaking it firmly. Her eyes flicker behind him, and she could swear her stomach flutters. Chris walks towards them, and Maisie quickly excuses herself.

"Somone has to make sure you don't get yourself killed." He smiles, and Mason laughs. Soon, Joel, Tommy, and James accompany the three by the gate, and the screeching, rusted metal slowly opens out into the long road ahead.