HURTS LIKE HELL,
CHAPTER TWO!

                    [ season four, episode one ]

Living was arguably superior to just surviving. You had to live to feel things ─ love, glee, sorrow, excitement, pain. You couldn't feel those things to their fullest extent by focusing solely on survival. It severed the wires connecting the heart and the brain, leaving an emptiness inside that could never again be filled.

Marley had witnessed people become hollow shells of their past entities. Shane Walsh; a prime example. He forgot who he was entirely, too focused on the things that didn't matter. He wanted them all to shed their morals, their humanity, themselves ─ just to be like him. To be bolder, more intrepid and callous.

They listened to him, to begin with. But once they breached the Greenes' land, made a home between the tree groves on their farm, it became apparent Shane Walsh's mind was akin to a serpent; twisted and slippery. And it was within human nature never to trust a snake.

Eventually, they stopped practicing his preaching. They saw the flaws in his plans. His method of survival left little room for perseverance. For flourishing.

Like Dale said ─ they couldn't lose touch with their humanity.

Humans were put onto the earth's plains for a reason. To breathe, to love, to live. It was something they couldn't ignore.

Beth draped her arms over Zach's shoulders, pressing a chaste kiss against his cheek. Her smile was bright and genuine, as was her boyfriend's. They hadn't been dating for very long ─ Zach was a newcomer to the prison ─ but their infatuation was palpable. Well, his certainly was. He adored Beth . . . and she adored the distraction his presence provided.

The group were headed to the Big Spot today, and this was the couple's formal goodbye. Beth hugged him, Zach peppered her face in kisses, but the word bye never crossed their lips.

As usual, his questioning gaze trailed her receding figure, "Are you gonna say goodbye?"

Beth smirked, "Nope!"

As she sauntered past, she fixed Marley with a knowing look ━ don't question it. Marley threw her hands up in surrender and waited until Beth was out of eyeshot before cracking a grin. She didn't understand love, or the emotions surrounding it, but maybe one day she would.

"It's like a damn romance novel," Daryl grumbled miserably as he loaded his vehicle with supplies.

Marley snickered, "What's your favourite? Romeo and Juliet? Oh, wait ━ it's definitely Wuthering Heights. That's more your mood."

"I ain't got a clue what either o' those are," Daryl retorted. With obvious impatience, he jerked his head at the car, "You comin?'"

"'Course she is," a voice replied. Upon turning, they saw it was Sasha, who'd become something of a friend to Marley over the last six months, "But in my car. I've seen the way you drive, Daryl. Can't have you endangering one of our best fighters."

"Best?" Daryl scoffed, "If you say so."

Marley's mouth fell open in shock, but before she could utter a word in protest, Daryl stalked off.

"Ignore him," Sasha mused, letting out a chuckle at the expression of sheer incredulity on Marley's face, "Hey, I've already told you ━ a little more training and you'll be all set. It takes people a hell of a long time to perfect their aim."

Marley cocked a brow, "Six months?"

"More like six years," Sasha corrected, "But you have me as your PT, so I think you're good."

A loud clatter drew the duo's gaze toward the trunk of the car. Theo was dumping crates of important supplies inside ━ food, water, weapons ━ and had evidently been listening in to their conversation the entire time. His big saucer-brown eyes were pinned to them, and flared a little when he noticed he'd been caught.

He diffused the awkwardness with mockery, "How's that colossal ego feel Sasha? Heavy?"

Marley let out a sharp exhale, interrupting Sasha before she could reply, "You're coming?"

"I am," Theo said.

"Why?"

"It's a change of scenery."

She rolled her eyes tempestuously, "And it's  dangerous. You know that, right?"

"Aw," he mocked, jutting his lower-lip out, "I didn't realise you valued my safety that much."

"I don't. I value mine."

Sasha stepped forward and stuck her arm out in the space between them, "Please try not to tear each others heads off. We need the numbers for this run today. I can't be down two people."

Glenn appeared at that moment, slamming a magazine into his carbine rifle, "This is just their way of communicating. You'll get used to it."

A shrill whistle in the distance caught their attention. Daryl jerked his chin upward, in a motion that they could all discern as let's go. Marley slid into the passenger seat of Sasha's car, and Theo wandered off to join Glenn, saluting mockingly before closing the door behind him.

Sasha jiggled the gearstick into drive, her expression twisting in amusement. Behind them, Bob and Tyreese claimed the back seats.

"Oh, hey, Bob," Marley said, peering around her chair and flashing the sepia-skinned man a smile, "Didn't know you were coming."

"Well, I want to pull my weight around here ━ make an effort to help," he explained. He was their newest addition to the prison; just a week ago they found him on his own, "Can't rely on everyone else to do the difficult stuff, can I?"

Tyreese patted him on the back good-naturedly, "Good man. You'll fit in here just fine."

"Yeah, you will," Marley added frankly.

Bob looked a little sceptical ━ like he didn't believe fitting in somewhere after spending so long on his own was at all a possibility ━ but managed a smile regardless.

Everyone in the prison had a designated role. Sooner or later, Bob would find his.

                                   
           · · ──── ·𖥸· ──── · ·

Before the fall, Marley, Sage and her Mom used to visit gargantuan stores like the Big Spot all the time.

They had girl time, when their Dad was at work and Mom had the day off from teaching people how to ride horses at her friend's equestrian centre. Most of the time, the day started with a long walk around the neighbourhood to stretch their elderly dog's weary bones, and then they would go to the Dollar store near the city ━ it was a little bigger than the Big Spot ━ and browse the shelves for hours and hours.

Sage almost always left with an armful worth of art supplies, and Marley with all the sweets she could handle. Once, she tricked Mom into trying one of the sourest candies on earth. She and Sage were hysterical over it for weeks, and Mom refused to eat any edible offerings if she couldn't see the packing beforehand.

Seeing the Big Spot in all its glory brought back an abundance of memories. Marley stared at the sign, the elongated front window, and thought about her mother. She thought about her sacrifices, her smile that Marley's own grin resembled, her voice, her face, the way she loved.

Monica Whitman would've hated the world as it was now. It was better that she didn't get to see the full, brutal extent of its deterioration.

But that didn't make her not being there any less painful.

BANG.

Marley jolted in fright, brandishing her beloved baseball bat. Her eyes trailed over the group, searching for the source of noise, and found Daryl. He stuck up a finger, wait, and then banged his fist loudly against the grimy glass window. BANG, BANG, BANG.

"The hell are you doing?" she questioned, lowering her bat and tucking it under her armpit.

Daryl chewed on the end of a miniature cocktail stick, "Waitin.'"

"For what? Christmas?"

"The walkers," Daryl grumbled irritably.

Marley realised she was being quite stupid, and peered through the dirty window. She couldn't see much, but she knew the interior was enormous. It would take a while for any walkers traipsing around inside to reach the front. And, no doubt, there was a platoon of dead ones awaiting their arrival. Better to get them this way ━ baiting them with noise before attacking ━ than head straight in and risk their group.

She sighed faintly through her nose and lowered herself onto the lip of concrete next to Daryl, "If you chew that stick any more, you'll choke on it."

"Doubt it," he said plainly.

Marley reached over and plucked it out of his mouth, tossing it to the ground, "It's a smart way to pretend you've got a cigarette, I'll give you that."

He gawped at the cocktail stick on the ground, resorting to chewing on the inside of his cheek instead, "I don't smoke."

"Anymore," Marley rebutted, "I saw you and Merle when you first came to the quarry. Smoking like chimneys."

"Nah, it was mostly Merle." Daryl reached into the pocket of his leather-vest and pulled out another cocktail stick. He looked at Marley smugly and wedged it between his teeth, "Hard habit to kick."

She rolled her eyes, "Don't come crying to me if you choke or puncture a hole in your gut when you accidentally swallow it."

"You're one hell of a drama queen, you know that?"

Zach settled himself on the temporary benching next to Marley, wearing a grin that was probably a little too big considering their current predicament ━ the whole world ending thing. But he was always smiling. The prison-group were used to it now; he was eternally happy.

He nudged Marley playfully, "You're just on high alert, aren't you?"

"I wouldn't call it that," Daryl grunted.

"I would," Marley said, kicking Daryl's shin as gently as she could ━ though still hard enough to make him flinch away, "You'll thank me for it one day, Daryl. My histrionics might just save your life."

He snorted sardonically.

Zach leaned back against the window, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket, "For weeks, I've been trying to work out what Daryl did before the Fall. I've now officially added teacher to my list."

"Teacher?" Marley sputtered hysterically, "What would he teach? A culinary class? How to cook a squirrel to perfection."

"Hey, you're always the one askin' for second helpings," Daryl griped, shaking his head in disbelief. He loathed it when people ( namely Marley, Theo and Mika ) openly criticised the game he brought back from his hunts. If they didn't want it, they could happily starve.

Zach chuckled hoarsely, "I say teacher because he has a tendency to bite back at us kids very quickly. Like he's done it a million times before."

That . . . actually made sense. Marley hummed thoughtfully, folding her arms over her chest as she scrutinised Daryl in a new light. She could imagine him teaching woodwork, or maybe gym class. Something physical rather than academic.

"I always thought he was a mechanic," she stated, "Fixing bikes and stuff."

Zach popped his lower lip over the top, "Oh, that's also a possibility. I can imagine that."

"Keep guessin,'" Daryl said in a tone that sounded like he actually wanted them to stop guessing and drop the subject entirely.

THUD.

A walker pressed its decaying face against the window behind them, attempting to claw through the glass to reach anything with a pulse. Daryl's technique of banging on the window had worked perfectly; they could draw the walkers out without the risk of having to search for them inside the store first.

Sasha, Tyreese, Daryl and Michonne went inside and dealt with the dead. It took just a few minutes for them to dispose of the lot. Marley helped Sasha drag out the last body, pushing it to the side, and then joined the huddle of people gathered near the front doors.

They ran through brief expectations of the intentions behind the Big Spot run; they had to grab essentials but nothing that wasn't strictly required at the prison. For example, makeup. Marley would've absolutely loved some mascara ━ or even some blush ━ to make herself look less like a walking corpse, but she didn't want to weigh down their supplies with meaningless rubbish that wouldn't help survival. However, they were permitted to take things that might cure boredom, so Marley mentally promised to grab Sage some pencils and a drawing pad. And, if they had anything of the sort, new clothes for Mika's beloved doll. She was always complaining about how ragged its current dress was. 

Once inside, everyone parted ways with shopping carts, disappearing into the maze of aisles. Marley's first item of choice was a torch. Five torches. She tossed one in after the other; God knows how important torches were.

"Think you'll be needing these."

A dozen packs of batteries toppled into her cart.

Theo was grinning like the Cheshire Cat when she peered up at him, leaning against the shelves, wearing a stupid green and orange baseball cap that he must have picked up at some point during his patrols throughout the store. He reached up and twisted it around, so the front panel was at the back of his head and a tuft of raven hair peeked through the clasp above his forehead.

She rolled her eyes, "You look ridiculous."

"It keeps my head warm," he argued, adjusting the flimsy cap again. He swivelled it back around, the normal way. He still looked incredibly stupid.

Marley breezed past him, turning her cart around the corner and into the next aisle. Arts and crafts ━ excellent.

She browsed until she came to the notepads and drawing books. Sage wasn't all that fussed over quality of paper, so Marley selected the first one she saw. It had black and white polka dots on the front cover, and it was a little childish, but she was absolutely certain Sage wouldn't mind. There were even some pencils alongside it, cramped into a thin plastic box on the back.

Theo appeared again.

"Planning on starting a journal?" was his question.

"No," Marley said, pushing her cart forward, "they're for Sage."

He pursed his lips, "Oh." He picked up a colouring book illustrated with Disney figures, inspected it keenly, and then tossed it carelessly back on the shelf. "Beth's got a diary. She won't let me read it."

"That's because diaries are personal and aren't meant to be read by anyone else."

"No. Not entirely true. Patrick let me read his."

"Let you?" Marley halted. Theo almost stumbled into her cart, but managed to skid to a stop right before he collided with it. "Are you sure?"

Theo's shoulders lifted in a halfhearted shrug, "Technically. He's none the wiser I read it. Clueless, actually."

"So, in that case, he didn't let you."

He kissed his teeth audibly, ". . . No, but━"

"━Remind me never to let you near my possessions," she said.

Theo continued following her, his fingers curled around the metallic bars on the side of the cart to avoid losing her in the labyrinth of aisles.

He started yapping on about Patrick's diary, "He has digestion issues, you know ━ had them since he was a kid. That might be why he disappears sometimes and doesn't come back for ages. Makes sense, doesn't it? He probably doesn't want to announce the fact to everyone that he needs to run to the toilet before it's too late. Said in his diary that it's embarrassing. Poor guy."

Marley scoffed in disapproval, "That's such an invasion of privacy. How would he feel if he knew you were telling me all about his indigestion?"

"Come on, Marley," he whined petulantly, "I needed something to keep me entertained. It's so boring at the prison sometimes."

"You could have played soccer with Carl," she suggested, shifting through a rack of clothes ━ coats, they were in desperate need of spare coats at the prison. "Or done some cooking. Or helped Mika with her chalk drawings outside."

His nose wrinkled, "That's more you, I think."

"What?"

"Chalk drawings on the pavement," Theo said. "Your thing, not mine."

She glanced at him, "And your thing is wondering around the prison like a lost dog, annoying everyone?"

His eyes seemed to dim a bit at that ━ lost their reoccurring lustre. He swallowed thickly and stared at his shoes, apparently unable to retort with anything meaningful or witty like usual. After months in the same vicinity, she had learned that Theo expressed hurt in a modest manner; he didn't make it obvious and that meant people were prone to not pointing it out or being apologetic.

She did. She just knew.

Her chest squeezed with guilt. She sighed softly, "Sorry. I didn't mean that."

"No, it's fine. You're not wrong."

"No, I am wrong," she interjected. It was only partly true. "You're a huge help at the prison. You take watch duties for people who need sleep. You help Carol with the cooking when she's stressed. You always look out for the younger ones, especially Lizzie, even when you pretend you don't. And you don't take it for granted. You help because you want to, not because it's required."

He blinked repeatedly, looking almost dazed. The silence that consumed them was intolerably loud.

Marley felt her cheeks swell with heat. She realised how insane she probably must have sounded to him, knowing all those little quirks about his character. Rapidly, she turned on the heel of her shoe and started walking down the aisle. She almost collided with Bob on the way.

He was loitering inconspicuously close to the alcoholic beverages stacked on a detached shelving unit. He almost didn't notice her until she apologised for nearly running him down with her cart. His breath hitched, like he was shocked, and then he forced a smile and scurried away.

Marley frowned; there was something undeniably suspicious about him, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. He hadn't been part of the prison group for very long ━ which meant she wasn't able to calculate the full extent of his character just yet.

She turned a corner, down the kitchen appliances aisle, where she saw Sasha inspecting a 900W toaster labelled with a hefty price that would've made Marley's mother's eyes water back when money mattered.

"Hey, Sasha?" she started warily.

Hazel eyes bore into cerulean expectantly. Sasha pushed the packaged toaster back onto the shelf, her brows furrowing at the questioning tone in Marley's voice.

"You good?"

Marley nodded. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure Bob wasn't still loitering nearby. Then she said, "You've spoke to Bob, right?"

Sasha's frown deepened, "Briefly. Why? Did something happen?"

"No, no, nothing happened," she assured quickly. "I just. . .think he hasn't been entirely truthful with us."

"What makes you say that?"

"He's quiet. Almost too quiet." Marley gnawed on her bottom lip. "Do you think he's hiding something?"

"No. I doubt it. He's new," Sasha reminded, "I think he's just trying to fit in. Our group is tightly-knit; he might feel intimidated. I sure did the first time I showed up at the prison━."

CRASH!

The aforementioned alcoholic beverage shelving unit had come tumbling down like a skyscraper hammered with a wrecking ball.

Sasha and Marley shared a fleeting look of apprehension before abandoning their carts and running in the direction of the chaos.

The entire shelf had fallen onto Bob. Wine bottles were smashed all around him, blood-like liquid flooding out from beneath the splintered wooden beams. Tyreese and Glenn were already there, working in tandem to try and free Bob from the confines of the overturned shelf.

"What happened?" Sasha asked breathlessly.

Daryl and Zach sprinted around the corner. Theo wasn't far behind, accompanied by Michonne.

"Man, you lucked out," Tyreese said, his muscles straining with the effort to lift the shelf, "If this thing had come down on you the wrong way, it wouldn't have been pretty."

Bob opened his mouth to say something, to explain his situation, when the ceiling overheard shuddered and cracked. It split open, tearing asunder, and a walker toppled through head first, attached to a clump of wires via its twisted intestines. Like some gross piñata, it swung from the ceiling, growling and clawing at the air.

Marley grimaced, "Oh, God, that's awful."

"Uh, we should probably go now," Glenn advised nervously.

"Bob's still stuck," said Theo.

Michonne had his back like always. "We need to get him out."

Through the gap the walker-piñata was hanging from, another corpse fell. It collided with the floor, inches away from the fallen shelf ━ despite its mangled leg and a missing ear, it clambered up to its feet and started to pursue Tyreese.

Another walker fell through the ceiling. Then another. Three more. Giant pockets of the ceiling gaped open, shedding debris and gravel everywhere as they burst as if dynamite had been tossed upwards, and suddenly it looked like a spotlight was being shone right through the centre of the store there were that many holes in the ceiling. The entire roof had been bustling with walkers. Now they were inside.

Sasha grabbed Marley's arm and pushed her in the direction of the exit, "Run!"

The ceiling groaned above them. Barely a second later, it split open and a walker somersaulted directly towards them. It immediately collided with Marley upon impact, and she fell back, gasping for air. She couldn't catch her breath. Winded ━ for Gods' sake it had winded her.

Then a decaying mouth was gnashing and growling in her face. The smell of death slithered from its mouth in a plume of toxic smoke.

Marley used her elbow to prop it up, keeping it away from taking a chunk out of her cheek. She groaned with the effort, still trying to catch her breath ━ it hurt and her chest felt impossibly tight, like someone was standing on it.

There was carnage all around. Gunshots, yells, growling; it was the tombs all over again.

A blade sunk into the side of the walker's head. The weight atop her dulled, and Marley was able to slide her elbow back. Glassy-eyed, the corpse slumped on top of her ━ she pushed it aside.

Glenn grabbed her roughly by the shoulders, "You okay?"

She swallowed thickly, palming the side of her stomach where the dull ache of breathlessness still resided. "How many times are you going to save my life?"

"Until the day you grow eyes in the back of your head," Glenn retorted. "Come on."

He steered her away from the aisle splattered with dead walkers and chunks of debris. She chanced a glance up, and through the enormous hole in the ceiling, she saw the mangled, twisted metal skeleton of a helicopter, leaning precariously close to the open gap. If it fell through while they were still inside . . . it wasn't worth thinking about.

She smashed her baseball bat into the skull of an encroaching walker. Glenn shot two more. There were a couple bodies draped across the aisles, either sliced and diced with katana-like wounds, or had orange-fletched arrows sprouting from their foreheads. Theo.

"Watch out!"

Zach tugged Marley out of the way of falling debris. A gargantuan hunk of metal smashed into bits on the floor where she had been standing just seconds ago.

What was with people saving her life?

"Thanks," she said breathlessly.

Zach somehow managed a grin, "Don't mention it."

A pleading voice cried out, "Hey!"

"Bob," Zach said, realisation dawning on his face. "He's still stuck."

Marley didn't say a word; there was a plan already formulating in Zach's head and she knew he was the heroic type. She followed Zach as he made a beeline towards the back of the store, where Bob was still trapped under the shelving unit. The poor man looked terrified.

"Help!" he pleaded, "It's my ankle ━ it's stuck!"

"We're gonna help, don't worry," Zach assured.

With gritted teeth, Marley curled her fingers around the edge of the shelf, and Zach got the other side. "On three," she said. "One, two, three."

The shelf was heavy, but the pair of them managed to pull it high enough for Bob to slide out. He rocketed to his feet, panting as if he'd just ran a marathon. The gratitude in his eyes was overwhelming, but there was no time for courtesies ━ Daryl was practically screaming at them to run, to leave. Everyone was already heading to the exit.

Marley gripped her bat tightly and ran.

Then Zach screamed. She whipped around.

Blood rushed from his calf, the flesh torn and shredded between the blackened teeth of a rogue walker that dragged him to the ground with a sickening crunch of bones and Zach's resounding wail of anguish.

His throat was next. The blood was torrential, gushing out at an alarming rate. Unsalvageable.

Marley barely had time to breathe.

Sasha grabbed her and practically shoved her out of the exit.

A cloud of dust rolled through the store as the helicopter overheard finally broke free of its constraints. The ceiling caved in.

Zach and the Big Spot were eradicated just like everything else in their lives.

Gone.

                        ━━━━━━━━━━

                         AUTHORS NOTE !

it's been so long i know. i missed
writing my fam so here i am