━━━━𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒚-𝒐𝒏𝒆.

   𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 the world had been a grim place. It was a rarity that anyone smiled, though how could they? They lived on while the earth perished, becoming infested with the undead. Yet, no matter how the world appeared, the babbling toddler fidgeting about in her crib was all it took for James to grin ear-to-ear. His little Maisie desperately reached out to him, the man peering at the bundle of joy with the happiest of grins.

"Well, hello, my beautiful girl!" James brought the small child into his arms, lips peppering loving kisses upon her head of dark brown hair. The baby girl sloppily kissed his cheek, a fistful of her father's red t-shirt clutched in her hand as he held her against his hip.

"We see mama?" Mason wondered, big blue eyes gazing up towards James as the little girl asked the same question she had for the past month. The father felt guilt bubble in his chest, but as he did every morning, he reminded himself that if he left to protect his daughter. Maisie may not understand now, but James could only hope that as the year's pass, his little girl would slowly begin to come to terms with the fact that her mother was sick and that she wasn't the mama who would sing Maisie to sleep as she used to. With a guilt-ridden heart, the father wore a warm smile, once again kissing his daughter's head lovingly.

"Not today, baby girl."

Mason subconsciously stroked the pad of her thumb over the crimson red sweatshirt held between her calloused hands, the flickering memory of a dark-haired man whirling in her head. Shaking the odd feeling from her mind, the teen swiftly pulls the shirt over her head, tucking it snuggly into her unbuttoned jeans. However, as Maisie goes to button up her pants, she finds herself in a struggle to loop the button through. With a furrowed brow, she huffs, hands falling limp at her sides. Mason's eyes flicker to the dressing room mirror, her gaze lingering on her body.

Perhaps she had gained a pound or two, but with the severe scarcity of food the past few weeks, it wouldn't be likely. In a moment of thought, Maisie found the air around her thick, a knot coiling in her stomach. Was it possible? No, it wasn't possible. The chance of her becoming pregnant after a night of weakness with Chris wasn't possible. Mason scoffs at her ignorant thought, her somewhat quivering hands forcing the black jeans to fasten.

As her hand brushes over the door handle, Maisie's mind dwindles. If she were pregnant, her recent bouts of awful nausea would make all the more sense, as well as the sudden waves of fatigue and back pain. No, it was impossible. Her nausea resulted from a lack of food, exhaustion from staying awake due to constant nightmares, and back pain due to traveling.

"You're not pregnant. You're only seventeen; you can't be fucking pregnant." Mason's fatal attempt in reassuring herself does little to nothing, but she whispers the mantra all the same. The teenager snaps herself from the brief moment of panic, pulling open the door, stepping into the abandoned theater. Echoing voices lead her to the stage; Joel and Tommy hunched over a map as they converse.

"Hey." Maisie's hoarse voice attracts the men's attention as she trails down the aisle. Joel reaches into the bag by his feet, in his hands a bottle of ginger ale and Tylenol. "you took the last of the ibuprofen yesterday, went out this mornin' an' found this instead." He hands his daughter the beverage and painkillers, the teen hopping up to sit on the stage. Tommy nudges his brother's side, gently jerking his head towards the girl. Joel turns, his heart clenching at the saddening sight that was his daughter. The bags under Mason's eyes looked dreadful. The grief was a black cloud above her head, wearing her down until it broke her.

"You haven't been sleepin'." Tommy acknowledges, arms crossing over his chest as he slumps into the chair in front of her. Maisie swallows down the pill with a huff of annoyance, spinning the ginger ale cap back on the bottle.

"I'm so sorry that I prefer to stay awake than close my eyes and see my girlfriend's corpse." Mason snapped. Her father and uncle appear taken aback by her sudden outburst, and the teenager's body deflates. "I'm sorry. I'm just so tired." Maisie chuckles bitterly, rubbing her hands over her face in an attempt to take away any ounce of the exhaustion. With her soda in hand, the teenager hops off the stage, sulking off to the dressing room that had become her temporary bedroom. Mason falls onto her makeshift mattress, chin resting awkwardly on her knuckles, a stray tear streaming down her cheek, the girl breathing a trembling breath.

"You know, I've come to notice a pattern in my life." Her gaze fixates on Joel, who rests against the doorframe. "what's that?" The man inquires, sitting upon the chair of the dressing room vanity.

"At some point, the people I care for most end up dead. Who knows who's next. Maria, Tommy, y-" Maisie can't bring herself to finish the sentence, her finger quick to wipe away the salty tear running along her jaw. Swallowing the thick lump resting in her throat, Mason finds herself gazing at her boots, chin trembling. "Have I ever," She brings herself to meet Joel's gaze. "have I ever thanked you?" The man's brows furrow, a look of confusion plastered on his face. "for what, baby girl?"

"For saving me." A tear slips from Maisie's eye once more, the teenager sporting the smallest of smiles. "If you hadn't taken me in when I was six years old, came after me when Billie took me, found me in that bathroom, I wouldn't be here, dad." Joel bites his cheek, tears threatening to fall as he stands, bringing his baby girl into his warm embrace. The father and daughter hold each other in a death grip. "I can't lose you too." It's nothing above a whisper, but Joel heard it. He always heard her. He pulls her closer against his chest, lips pressing a firm kiss to her head.

Through the pain, the grief, this is what they needed-a moment to hold each other, a moment of peace. But nothing lasts forever. With something a simple as a blink, the atmosphere shifts, the metallic sound of the stun grenade rolling across the ground sure to join Mason's nightmares. White light, ears ringing, head pulsating, the butt of a rifle colliding against her skull, darkness.

"One..."

"Two..."

"Three!" Andy cracks an eye open, an uncontrollable joy swelling in her chest. Before her rest a tray, the plate resting on top filled with delightful breakfast. The newly picked rose held in a crystal clear vase decorates the corner, sitting beside it, a mug filled with freshly poured coffee. Andy gazes adoringly at Maisie, the teenager sporting a smug grin as she lays alongside her girlfriend. "Now, if serving my beautiful girlfriend breakfast in bed on our anniversary ain't romantic, I don't know what is." Andy giggles, bringing the older girl's jaw into her hands, locking their lips in a passionate kiss.

Mason hums, breaking apart with reluctance, a mischievous look glinting in her eyes. "hurry up with your breakfast, babe, so that I can have mine." The dark-skinned girl tilts her head, a smirk tugging at her lips. "and that is?" Her brown eyes trail over Maisie's mouth, craving for it to meet hers once more.

"Cereal." A pillow collides against her nose, the teenager laughing joyfully as Andy snickers. "you're such a tease!" The raven-haired teen fails her attempt to push her girlfriend aside as Maisie trailed feather-like kisses up her shoulder. "you love me, you love me, you love me." She mutters between each kiss, Andy only just suppressing her giggles as Mason's lips met her jaw. "okay, okay, uncle!" The curly-haired teenager gently grabs the Miller girl by her chin, pulling her into a sweet kiss.

"I love you, Mason Miller."

Maisie grunts, throbbing storming through her head with all its might. The vibrant sunlight seeped through the window against her favor as it pours over her sore eyes, the girl's eyes flickering around in a panic, the walls around her unfamiliar. Scuffling from the other room draws her attention, the teen's body working on its own as she scrambles from the old mattress lying on the ground. Mason frantically searches the room for any sign of a useable weapon, her hand quickly grasping a discarded curtain rod. With her back pressed firmly against the wall, she watches as the door handle jiggles, creaking open as the long-haired man on the other side noiselessly strides through the doorway.

Maisie raises the pole over her head, aiming towards the stranger's head as his eyes meet the empty mattress. However, as she attempts to bring the metal rod onto him, he catches her hand, disarming her immediately, his hands soon holding her cheeks between his palms.

"Hey, hey, it's me!"

"Let go of me!" Mason's nails draw blood as she scratches the unknown man's arms frantically. "Maisie, stop, you're okay! It's me! It's just me!" As she slowly registers the man's voice, her heart calms, her body deflating as her blue orbs meet a pair of gentle brown ones-overwhelming relief blooms within her chest, the teen sinking into his touch.

"Chris?"