'burn all the things you have to burn.' the mountain goats.

season 1, episode 2
Infected

Sept. 19th, 2023

"This place...is fucking shit,"

Kieran admitted, taking in the ruins of what used to be beautiful. A place Samara watched turn to rot, unable to be viewed as it once was. No photos could ever bring justice to what was. Not that Kieran cared. It was just another place. "And I thought the QZ was hell."

"The QZ is hell," Farah spoke for the first time since she woke up in the forest, some ways away from the secured area. Her words were weighted, as most who experienced life in the quarantine zones.

A bruise bloomed on the right side of her temple, red with a tinted yellow-green stained her olive skin. Kieran stifled a cruel grin at the sight of it. Farah was originally supposed to direct the two to the meet-up location, but Samara no longer trusted her after Kieran dealt with her hidden friend. There were too many opportunities for them to be ambushed, but luckily none were taken.

"Is that why you became a firefly? Sam, too," Kieran told, finding no reason to not speak her thoughts. "You guys used to blow shit up to make a point, right?"

There was no longer a reason to be scared of Farah. If she tried anything, Samara would kill her. Her blood would splatter over the dry dirt and allow it to soak it all up as if it was not once hers. Farah would die so they could live. Just like all the others before. Just like all the ones to come. And with her death would come yet another broken promise and a new roof to be under.

"Kieran," Samara said lowly, almost too low for Kieran to hear but the look on Samara's face told her everything and more.

Farah smirked, flickering her eyes between the nomads. "I know all about her time as a firefly."

It was unfair of Samara to strip Kieran from everything she knew every single time things got bad in her opinion. No game is fun when it is unfair.

"Can you tell me? She never talks about what happen—"

Samara knew all of Kieran's tricks.

"When do the others get here? If the cargo's that important that Marlene asked for me, who else did she ask for?" If she hadn't known better, she would have assumed Tommy and Eugene without a doubt. Marlene rarely allowed any attacks to not be led by them. Of course, until they got out. Based on that and her reaching out to Samara, it seemed as if the light was dwindling and the fireflies were faltering.

Samara would thank God but she knew he wasn't listening.

"All of the Boston Fireflies." Samara's eyes flickered to Kieran and her sour expression. She shifted in her place. "We've done too much fighting but nothing's changed. Marlene...she says this cargo will change everything."

Will change everything? Every year Samara heard that lie from FEDRA claiming they found a cure. It's been twenty years, there's no such thing as a cure. Nothing would change. She wouldn't have those fallacies possess Kieran's mind and fill her with false ideas.

"Like what?" Kieran questioned. An unfamiliar sense of hope filled her voice.

"Like the old world. You know anything about it?" Kieran shook her head, glancing at Samara's reluctant expression. "A government that works and cares for its people; food for everyone if you can afford it; schools, jobs—"

"So," Kieran dragged out as they neared the door with growing fungi, gluing the door shut. "exactly like it is now but no infected?"

"Yeah, basically." For once, Farah smiled. Not a real one, but the closest thing to it. She used her glove-cladded hands to pull the door from the dried fungi. "We just need to get the cargo west."

Samara trailed them with wary steps. When you're young and naive, you will believe anything told to you by someone you trust. You follow them blindly until you learn the truth gracefully or forcefully. The Fireflies utilized naivety to create soldiers, much like FEDRA, only used as pawns for war.

There were vivid memories of the aftermath of Firefly bombings that haunted her. Teenagers, the same age as...her own daughter, covered the streets with debris. Their limbs scattered the sidewalks, almost unrecognizable. The only reason their identities were known was because of their dog tags.

Their death didn't help anyone. Their future was taken from them for an illusion crafted by Marlene.

Kieran's eyes wandered the building reclaimed by nature. There was nothing beautiful about it in her eyes. It just was the way the world was. A part of Samara wished she could have seen the world before. But Samara knew Kieran was made for the world as it was now.

"This building's clear. The rest of the block isn't, so stay here."

"Where'd you think you're going?" Kieran questioned, hovering her hand over something behind her.

Farah flitted her eyes between the two before keeping them on Samara. She lifted one eyebrow, urging her to answer. "Marlene needs me to deal with FEDRA."

But of course.

She continued, seeing the look on Samara's face. "Someone has to."

There was no reason to argue or threaten her to stay. Her job was done, and they were perfectly safe—for now. Samara sent Kieran a look to put her hand away from whatever she had. She moved them onto her bag straps. Devotion was a disease with a low chance of survival.

"Don't fuck this up," Farah told to Samara with belief in her hard stare. The corner of her lips curled upward. She left before it could continue towards the sun.

Samara sighed. She couldn't judge Farah's choices. That would be hypocritical. Devotion may have been a disease that led to the deaths of masses, but it also brought peace and love. Two things that were rare.

She neared Kieran, resting a hand on her shoulder. She rotated the girl under her bad arm, swiftly removing the item she hid. A gun. "Why do you have this?"

Samara released the magazine, finding it filled. It wasn't one from their arsenal.

"I only have sixteen arrows, a knife, and my hands."

"Where'd you get it?"

"The dead guy," she said facilely with a shrug. "I could've taken the rifle he had but I knew you'd be pissed. Plus...it was kinda heavy."

Samara scoffed. "Kinda heavy? It's like half your size."

"Hey!" She forced a frown with a whine. Samara took a step back and smiled. "Can I have it back now?"

Her smile faded. "No. We go by house rules while we're out here and with those terrorists."

"What? Why? And how are they terrorists? You were one—so was Uncle Tom—"

"Do you know what is out there, Kieran? Not in Boston or Portland, but further west?" Kieran didn't make any attempts to speak. Terror darkened her brown eyes. The same fears Samara picked up again and carried since the day she swore to protect Kieran. "Because I don't. We don't know what we're gettin' into, don't know the people were travelin' with, we don't know anything. So, house rules."

Kieran gave a dutiful nod, shifting her weight. She refused to look at Samara. It came from a dark voice in her head. Samara didn't need her to say it aloud when her body spoke louder than she ever could. The dark voice came from a time before Samara. It was the only thing Samara couldn't protect her from.

"...And what me and Tommy did for the Fireflies—" Kieran's head perked up, finally making eye contact "—...they were bad things, just like them. Some of them I regret...Some I will never."

"Like what?" Her voice heightened with a hesitant interest.

"Next time." Though Kieran had heard that a million times, Samara meant it. Just one for now. Until she was ready for more. Until they both were. "I promise."

That's all it took for Kieran to believe Samara. Her face lit up as she attempted—and failed—to hold back a smile.

"Let's rest up."

The two found an open, withering room. It had less dry fungi and piled furniture blocking the door. It was near the entrance of the building, allowing Samara to hear and see anyone before they could.

Kieran laid out her olive green jacket that consumed her whenever she wore it, to lay on. A yawn tore her chapped lips apart. She laid on her left side to be able to hear still out of her right. Her eyes trailed Samara, watching as she propped a three-legged chair under the knob.

Once she was done, she sat beside Kieran, brushing her silver strands behind her shoulder. "What story do you want?"

Another yawn escaped Kieran as she shook her head.

"Can love be bad?"

The question came as a surprise to Samara. She was used to Kieran's sleepy mind forming last minute questions she couldn't resist to ask. But not that question. "Where'd that come from?"

Kieran's eyes bounced around the room, slowing and sticking to the molding ceiling. The corruption of nature upon the cream colors reminded her of the sky; how the sun would sink below the horizon and darkness would engulf the sky, specks of stars would scatter around. Kieran didn't care for the sky, though, she much preferred the ocean.

"Farah follows...Marlene because she loves her; she'd give up her life for her. At what point is it...at what point does it turn bad?"

Fatigue latched onto her mind, slurring her words. Samara pondered the question as Kieran forced herself to stay awake for her answer.

"...It's one thing to be devoted to something—" she inhaled, carefully picking out her words "—and it's another to love something so much that you'd do anything for them. You can love something without being devoted to it, and you can be devoted to something without loving it."

"But how are they different?"

Samara caressed Kieran's cheek, observing her eyes flutter with heaviness. "When you love someone, you are able to walk away, even if it hurts in order to save them—or yourself. When you're devoted...you're stuck until it's too late."

Her face scrunched, not satisfied with that answer—or, the answer didn't make sense to her.

"When it gets safer to be around people, you'll understand it more," Samara told, unsure if that would ever happen. "Now, sleep. I'll wake you when the Fireflies are here."

Pushing back the silver strands once more, Samara smiled softly at Kieran's relaxed features. She clutched her grimy giraffe to keep it from running away from her as she slept.

Samara lifted her hand slowly, raising to her feet. Her knees ached with a pop.

"Don't go," Kieran muttered, eyes latched onto Samara before her eyelids fell. "Just...not right now."

So she didn't. She observed the clouded window as she periodically glanced at Kieran's sleeping figure. Oftentimes, she imagined what Kieran dreamed of. But Samara knew better; dreams were where people are most vulnerable, their fears are real and they can't control them.

When a truck reverberated through the open area, Kieran shifted in her sleep. She stayed asleep as Samara left the room and descended down stairs to meet with the other fireflies. They weren't surprised to see her, only surprised by her appearance. Unlike them, dirt didn't cling onto her like a second coat of skin. Still, she would become like them on this journey.

Some of the older ones were familiar, aged versions of people she faintly knew. The young ones resembled people she knew, or older faces of the children that ran through the streets of the QZ. But none of that mattered.

"You're the one Marlene sent?" a younger male Firefly questioned as he brought in a case of weapons. "The Black Widow?"

With her arms crossed and lack of amusement, Samara stared at him. Stories fueled the QZ children and led them to who they are now. But they were just stories, lies even. "Where's Marlene?"

"Hell if we know." Children born and raised after the Outbreak weren't familiar with the concept of respect.

What did Samara expect? Marlene didn't care how they acted, only if they got the job done. Moreso, she kept her information to herself and her inner circle. No one else knew unless they needed to know. And most of the time, they would be dead before they would ever need to know what they died for.

But Samara had Kieran to worry about. She cared if Kieran lived or died. Marlene couldn't have forced her on this job without considering Kieran, without considering how easily Samara would throw it all away to protect Kieran.

Unless that's exactly why Marlene forced her into this job.

Marlene wasn't just forcing Samara back into her game, she was the referee and the player. She dictated where Samara could move her pieces and where she could not. Marlene had Samara—ropes around her wrists and ankles, acting as Marlene pleased.

It didn't matter. Samara would remain as Marlene's puppet if it meant Kieran would be safe and with her.

The Fireflies moved their arsenal into the entrance. Stacking thick cases upon cases with their symbol covering FEDRA. Samara didn't help, nor did they ask her to. With the amount of people and supplies, they must have more transportation on its way. Something was bound to go wrong.

As she trailed around the Fireflies, noting all their supplies, questions clouded her mind. They had multiple cases of explosives, assault rifles, and other FEDRA supplies. It was all FEDRA's.

FEDRA may have been too incompetent to govern a civilization but they weren't stupid.

Marleen may be manipulative and knowledgeable but none of that would be enough against FEDRA. All she had were suicidal soldiers that lacked training but had motivation. FEDRA had the exact opposite. To believe that the Fireflies could successfully escape the QZ and reach their destination was a childish belief.

"Didn't think you were still breathing," a faintly familiar raspy voice spoke, coming from behind Samara. "Thought Marlene would've killed you."

An ex-FEDRA type with a name Samara couldn't recall. His face, however, was quite recognizable. He was an officer with too much time on his hands and little patience. He would trade with Joel for drugs he couldn't afford even with his rank in shadowed alleyways then vomited bullshit about FEDRA being the only ones who could save humanity to soon-to-be-teenagers that would need to decide if they were going to FEDRA school or living like the rest of humanity.

Samara side-eyed him, crossing her arms without a word.

He copied her with a smirk that he failed to hide. "Don't get me wrong—I'm glad she didn't." His eyes outlined her double cladded body. Eyes of the lonesome FEDRA soldier who had too many to drink, too long of a shift, and a wife at home that couldn't stand his touch. Losing her must have sent him to join the Fireflies.

"Why don't you go help your friends?"

"'Cause we're talking."

He had a toothy smile. His teeth were checkered, spotted with decay. Samara wasn't sure if it was his gums lacking in red tones that made her notice his sweaty red-tinted face or if it was just that bad.

"No, we aren't." She turned away towards the stairs to get to Kieran.

His tongue clicking was almost unheard with the muttering Fireflies, moving and adjusting equipment. "So, your hubby can have fun with his partner but you can't indulge yourself a little?"

A twitch. A small, miniscule of an action that would have been missed if Kieran wasn't searching for information. She could sense Samara's distrust in them, not just from their history but by the way she maneuvered around without a sound, mentally counting how many Fireflies there were, and their weapons. Kieran wouldn't trust them without Samara's approval. She let Samara scope them out first before coming to get her— of course, Samara took too long so Kieran had to be her second pair of eyes. And she saw it.

Fatigue might have fogged her mind, but she knew what she saw.

One of the men, nearing Samara's age, scratched his neck as he spoke to Samara. His silver ring displaced a string of light, forcing it to bounce around the rotting building to go unnoticed by the exhausted Fireflies. He winced as his hand neared his right shoulder.

The closest the bite is to the brain, the faster the infection spreads. Samara had notes upon notes filled with information that she forced Kieran to stuff down her throat despite not seeing infected for ages. Kieran refused to drown in it. Still, at the possibility of an infected gnawing at her to spread the infection, she froze on the balcony.

The infected were different from humans. There was a time when Samara and her were traveling a few summers ago. They came across a museum of science, and enchanted by it per usual, Kieran forced Samara to let them go in. Science was one thing Kieran felt she could relate to Samara with. Kieran could still hear the memory in her head. She could hear the boy her age begging his mom to wake up, sobbing as he continued to infect her. His gapped tooth filled with her flesh.

They were in the human life exhibit.

Monsters had no control in what they did. They were innocent, only a puppet to a puppeteer that compelled them to do their bidding. From Kieran's understanding from the minimal scientifically-proven information—which was an old recording of an interview that Bill was going to throw away—the fungi invaded their body, making its way to their nerves in order to gain a host, but their minds? Their minds were still there. They were forced to watch through their own eyes as their own hands inflicted pain, as their teeth rotted with human pieces. All they could do was watch.

Kieran didn't know how long they would be forced to be tortured by nature—weeks, months, years, decades before they would be put out of their misery.

What she did know was that she only hurts what hurts her and her own on purpose. The monsters were innocent. If anything,

Men were the real monsters.

If not, why would every story have an antagonist that was as human as the protagonist, only selfish?

Stories that attempted to vilify someone who couldn't control their circumstances angered Kieran.

But those were only stories. This was real. So very real. Much like a dream. Kieran. tightened her hands around the rail until her hand burned. It was real.

Kieran squeezed her eyes shut for eons and focused on the blaring noise that rang throughout her left ear. It was a part of her reality she often looked over if she tried hard enough. Focusing on different things kept it at bay. Stories allowed her to shape the noise into something else; from being able to hear the ocean everyday from the cold sand, to be drowning in it.

She was drowning. Sinking. Dying.

And then she wasn't. 

Word Count: 3.2k

short-ish but very important chapter! originally all of episode 2 was supposed to be in this chapter but i thought it'd be better to cut it in half for story telling reasons. 

and i feel the need to apologize for stretching this all out and not having Joel or Ellie appear yet. it is all for a reason! I like to think of my fics as books (to an extent) which means i'm doing a slow pace to show off the relationships, the characters, hidden things that will happen later in the book. pacing was one of my few problems with the show, if they had gone with more episodes i feel like joel and ellie's relationship would have made more sense and more specifically joel's growth would have worked better. 

but i know many of you don't care much abt this stuff and want to read, all i ask is don't ask me where a character is or why it's taking so long to get to a certain episode/moment. 

anyway, i'd love to hear yall's thoughts, theories, ideas or literally anything!