Changing To Adapt ➵ TWD

➵ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜɪʀᴛʏ ᴛᴡᴏ

Shane and Rick were to drop Randall off by the end of the week.

It was all going to plan. Until he revealed that he knew Maggie. He knew Hershel. He knew where the farm was.

Aside from being scraped up and bruised - it was obvious that they went a few rounds - Rick and Shane made it back safe, Randall in the trunk. They only had a few choices left now. Kill Randall, let him go or. . .

In this case, torture him.

Lucas sees Daryl come back, knuckles bloody. The anger comes quick and traps them all in a cycle of tension, just thinking about what could have happened had Randall's group found the farm.

A group of thirty men. People who. . . didn't care what they did, who they assaulted.

Lucas was disgusted that he'd been in the same bar as Dave and Tony, given that slimy look and that hand to his neck.

But when he actually sees Randall - crying, snotting, bloodied. Bruises covering his face, lip split, knee exposed where the scab was peeling back - well, he's terrified.

Randall's the same age as Lucas.

That could've been him.

Now they're planning to kill the kid.

Lucas ambles past Daryl's little hide-out, knowing he shouldn't stray too far, and ducks through the trees, walking and walking and walking until he eventually took that stabilising breath.

He sees Randall's face, Daryl's knuckles, Rick's easy acceptance into killing the boy and thinks back to the first time he found their ragtag group.

A boot to the back was all Lucas had gotten, Daryl's crossbow aimed at his face.

If it was the Rick and Shane of today how bad would it have been? Would Daryl have beaten him to a pulp? Would he be alone? Would Shane have taken one look at him and killed him?

Lucas stops before the rushing creak and clear water, reaching beyond his eye line. He's already got his switchblade out, already checked his surroundings, before he bends down to splash the water at his face.

For an instant, he's back under the cold water looking for Sophia, hands holding him down, teeth aiming for his face. 

Lucas rears back, frantically searching the area.

He's safe.

He breathes again.

But for how long until he screws up and meets the same fate as Randall?

Lucas happens upon Daryl's camp the second he's back from his travels, only to notice that Dale is keeping the tent owner's attention with a rambling speech.

Leaning against the closest tree, he hears the tail end of it.

"Torturing people? That isn't you. You're a decent man! So is Rick!" Dale pauses, taking a breath, "Shane, is different."

"Why's that? 'Cause he killed Otis?"

Lucas jolts forward, moving past the tree-line to say, "Shane killed Otis?"

They don't flinch, but eyes swivel towards him, confused only for a second. Daryl nods, eyeing him from head to toe. "Where'd you come from?"

"I took a walk." Lucas mumbles, glancing briefly at Daryl's hand, latched around the strap of his crossbow. 

Daryl notices.

Stepping forward with a crunch of the leaves, Dale brings the attention back to him, "Did Shane tell you that?"