AYE- IM BACK- BREIFLY LOL

BACK AND HAVE A REDRAW FROM MIMIC- GUVE UT UP FOR THIS GREAT ARTWORK

This chappie is shorter, but a breif intro into the new life style change

Unedited

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Time had passed incredibly fast after the fiasco at Mercy Hospital. Or, rather events had passed fast.

Despite not knowing exactly where the group was heading, or where they would stop, or who they would meet up with, you had decided to head south.

Get out of the city, get away from every old and happy memory you could remember.

You snuck right out of that city, Christian at your side. Maybe twenty miles from your home city, and you had scavenged up enough fuel to jack some random car off the road. You aimed for a jeep (high tires and all) but unluckily, the quickest and easiest thing you found was some truck- open trunk, and only a bench one seat up front.

It was manageable.

So was driving another thirty two miles farther south.

What was not manageable, was the fucking infestation you had just walked into.

One moment you're cautiously sneaking into a gas station for supplies, and the next, infected at all angles-

BOOM- no extra gas for you, no snacks, and worst of all, no Swedish fish for Christian.

You ran out of that store faster then you thought you could, feeling a few tear into the skin of your back as you jumped into your truck, car door left open exactly for this reason.

You forced Christian to wait in the car- (seat belt on and all that). Briefly you made eye contact with his grumpy face while you turned the key, before looking forward and slamming the gas down.

A few minutes of driving, and the infected that had got on the roof finally fell off.

You had barely gotten down the road before you looked at his seatbelt-less chest, "Put your seat belt on."

He didn't answer- to your chagrin.

Without taking your eyes off the road, you reached over, grabbed the seat belt, and forced it into his hand, "Seatbelt. Now."

A few moments of silence, and a few moments of struggling later, and Christian was safely buckled inside the vehicle. His claws poked a few new holes in his seat belt, but the mere fact that he can buckle himself of his own violation is progress.

Flicking your attention to your companion, you made eye contact with his squinted greens. His facial expression spoke more then words ever could.

An irritated grumble. To which you immediately rebuked, "Psh- no. you know it was smart not to take you. You growl every time you enter a room. "

He let out another massive grumble, twisting awkwardly in his seat, and refusing to stretch out across the bench like he usually does.

"I'm right, your wrong end of argument. "

He snuffed, crossing his arms over his broad chest and shifting his dumb raptor legs around. Because for whatever reason, the infection was mutating differently in him- and it gave him the biggest looking rapter like legs, that made him loom even taller over you then before.

Wincing as you shifted gears, his eyes snapped down to the bleeding scratch along your hand and fingers.

His body jolted forward as though to try to investigate your injury farther, before he suddenly seemed to remember his brooding attitude, reverting back to crossing his arms.

"Christian. " you started- briefly shifting you eyes to look at him, watching the spark of recognition churn in his head at the name you spoke.

He knows its him, but only because you taught him like you would a dog.

Not because he remembers.

He kept waiting for your sentence to continue, but it didn't. Instead silence filtered through the truck, and after another solid five minutes of Christian brooding, you decided to break it.

With a sigh and a roll of your eyes you said, "I'll take ya next time bud."

It wasn't an immediate effect- and you were sure it was because he was having trouble processing what you said, but you had said 'next time' enough times for some sort of recognition.

His attempt to stay mad after recognizing the word was admiral, but he seemed to return to normal whether he liked it or not.

A small stretch of his long torso, and a small content growl, he flopped his head into your lap, claws still crossed over his chest.

He wasn't sleepy. It was just something he tended to do. Sitting there, watching as you moved the steering wheel around.

It was a small comfort. One that you cherished.

Taking a hand off the wheel, you lightly ran a hand through his hair, feeling him exhale and go limp.

Sighing, you kept your eyes focused on the road. A never ending road, and one that seemed fruitless to even go down. You didn't know how far South the group went, you could be slipping right past them at this very moment. Right past them, and you wouldn't know it.

But hey- at least you had Christian. You threw a quick glance at him on your lap, meeting his eyes as he watched you.

He honestly pulled you through so much shit that you should have already died to. The pain in your ribs ached at the thought- as did the scabbing claw marks on your chest. Even the still healing bite he put on your arm was was aching at the thought. So much shit.

Your living, and so is he. That's all that really matters.

At this point, you were almost hitting Georgia, riding close to the coast line, and driving through towns that surprisingly looked less beat up then the city you came from. Perhaps the infection didn't hit them as early as it did up North.

Three days, give or take, and you'd be somewhere in Georgia.

A few hours since the store you tried to grab supplies at, and you were pulling into a quaint place by the name of New Burn. A small city, that surprise surprise, was lacking the activity that a normal city should have. No cars driving around, and honking at each other, and not a living person in sight jay walking.

The day was nearing dusk, and you figured you should bunker down somewhere for the night, but not before filling up on snacks and gas.

Parking at the curb next to a gas station, you unbuckled your seat belt, waiting for Christian to do the same before stepping out of the car and lightly closing your door as to not draw attention. Christian did the same, though noticeably more clumsy, all but slamming the door behind him as he placed one taloned foot after the other onto the cement and closer to you.

Shifting your gun around, you cautiously walked towards the gas station, nudging the door open with your hip, before stepping in and aiming your gun.

Christian slid past you, letting out a deep grumble of warning, stepping around with his big legs and making a bunch of unneeded noise. You took a left, checking the aisles as you went before stopping near the cash register, Christian kept poking his head around the right side of the store, so you took it upon yourself to check the employees only door. You ignored the sound of a crinkling bag coming from Christian's side.

Moseying in, gun at ready, you were pleasantly surprised to not find any infected. You picked around at the break room, loading up a good eight water bottles into your backpack, as well as a few knives, and a small pack of cigarettes. For Bill- if you ever found him again.

You hoarded as many supplies as you could find, and the farther South you went, the more plentiful stuff like food and water seemed to get, supporting your theory of the infection not reaching them as quickly.

The floor creaked near the employees only entrance, and the small chur of question that came from whoever it was quickly let you know it was your companion. He swiftly came up to you, settling on standing beside you and watching what you were stuffing into your backpack.

You glanced at the bag he was holding toward you- the newly opened bag of Swedish fish wafting a sugary scent. With a laugh, and a roll of your eyes, you took one. He contentedly grumbled, dumping a few in his mouth before plopping down on a break room booth.

This would be a decent place to set up for the night- a high window near the ceiling to escape from, brick walls, near the cities edge-

Throwing you backpack on your back, you started off for your truck, hearing Christian immediately shuffle to get up. He followed you to the truck, watching you throw most of the stuff you found in the break room into the front seat, before you climbed into the truck, and began sorting through the stuff you've collected.

He huffed, jumping onto the roof of the car and crouching keeping a lookout most likely. He shoved a few more swedish fish into his mouth, the bag having been carefully shoved in his hoodie pocket.

You grabbed a few things, the siphon for gas, the spare gas can, and your sleeping supplies.

Having extra gas was always helpful, because you never know when you'll find more, so with a quick jump down you head towards the gas pump. Christian kept a watchful eye on you from atop the truck, plopping down into the trunk and nestling himself among your luggage and multiple backpacks.

Siphoning gas was a  process that got tedious incredibly fast, three minutes or so of monitoring it, and making sure it was actually getting gas, and you thew it in the back of your trunk, right next to Christian, who peeked at you from the over the edge, still chomping down on Swedish fish.

"Come on- we're holding the fort in that break room."

He chuffed, slinking out of the trunk as you threw a tarp over your supplies. It wasn't exactly the safest to leave everything outside, but it was too much work to bring it in.

You just grabbed your blankets, and walked in, barring the doors behind you and setting up in the break room.

A few more hours were spent in the front of the store, snacking on a pair of chips and watching the daylight drop into nothing but darkness.

Christian sat next to you on the floor, staring at you mainly, but trying his best to understand why you would look blankly out of a window for so long.

"..."

You yawned. Exhausted after driving for so long.

Idly, you reached for Christian's hand, holding it and feeling the set of claws he had.

He was always so passive with you, which you found hilarious in a way. Start off trying to kill you, end up a faithful companion who let's you grab his killing claws whenever you want.

He plopped his head on your shoulder, letting out a huff of tiredness.

"Yeah yeah, I hear ya." You muttered. Standing up, you looked at him expectedly, "Let's get some sleep."

With nothing else to object to, he followed you in into the break room.

You threw yourself under your blankets, lifting the covers to let your companion in as well. He latched onto you, slinging his arms around your waist and nuzzling into your side.

If past you was around she would have slapped you for letting a killer wrap himself with you, but she wasn't, and you let yourself sink into the warmth he gave off.

With a crinkle, he one handedly pulled the Swedish fish bag out of his pocket and pressed the last peice of sugar to your lips.

With a laugh, you pushed his hand away, "It's not good to eat sugar before sleeping."

He tried again, grumbling when you held his wrists in place.

"No- you can keep it bud."

Smiling, you looked at his face, the quiet sad look in his face his only argument.

Squinting at him in an attempt to stay firm, you rolled your eyes with a huff.

"Alright you little gremlin-" Snatching the Swedish fish you popped it in your mouth, "Have it your way."

He gave you a tiny smile, eye crinkling, before he outright buried himself into your side.

"Glad someone's happy." You murmured, gently stroking through his hair.

Life was much more freeing now that you didn't have a chain dragging the two of you together.

You could run, and shoot, and dodge all you wanted without being jerked in a different direction.

Life was definitely more pleasant.

A spare glance to your hunters massive form nestled into you was all you needed to assure yourself of that fact.