Changing To Adapt ➵ TWD

➵ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜰᴏʀᴛʏ ɴɪɴᴇ

He was so fucked. 

So inexplicably fucked.

What they call Woodbury is the most advanced living situation he's seen since the CDC, and it isn't just a single building there to protect one group - the whole town is surrounded by walls. Shooters on every corner, cars parked in and out, people inside.

Not just people, like the group they have at the prison.

The community, he feels like he should call it, is rich with bustling bodies. Like they've never had to deal with the walkers outside, peacefully living the mundane lives of a time before. The old world.

Laying his eyes upon it should've given him this sense of. . . hope for the future.

Instead, Lucas finds himself stuck at the trees he's hidden behind.

Maggie and Glenn were somewhere in there with that psycho of a one-handed man, and he doesn't know how to get past the gates. If he'd stayed in the truck's tray back he no doubt would've gotten spotted when they searched through their supplies.

He sees a gap underneath the front gates, ample space for a body like his to crawl under. But that wasn't the problem. Getting there is.

What was Lucas supposed to do? Waste this opportunity by running back to the prison, giving up Glenn and Maggie in that process?

No.

He'd have to try his fucking luck with this one.

Lucas presses his knuckles to his sternum, forcing himself to catch his breath and move on.

First, he unlatches his gun.

Second, he moves through the trees to the far left, close enough to be heard but not to be seen.

He covers his closest ear, leans his head away, and fires off three rounds into the brisk air. Waiting a span of five Mississippi seconds, Lucas hightails it out of there, running the opposite way.

He blows out a few breaths through pursed lips to control his ragged gasps and swipes the sweat from his forehead before he risks peeking through the shrubbery.

With a soundless burst of laughter, he knows he's done it.

The guards scramble to the far left corner of the wall, eyeing down their scopes at a threat that's long gone and making use of their distraction. 

Lucas shoves his sleeves up and emerges from the trees, pressing himself flat against the gates. With a glance, he reassures himself he hasn't been spotted and drops onto his front, peeking through the gap.

All clear.

He takes his chance, rolling underneath their doors and clambering to his feet, moving onto the footpath in a steady and calm pace. 

The shock remains beneath the surface of his expression, showing nothing to the outside world.

Lucas blends in with the citizens of Woodbury, smiling with a learned grace at those that send suspicious glances down their noses.

The hard part, he knows, is finding Glenn and Maggie.

He swipes a hand across his nose to discreetly glance around the street, lined with houses on each side, and somehow, it was even bigger than he thought it was.

Walking these streets, I'm not an outsider. I'm one of them.

If he wants to find his friends, that is how he needs to think.

Lucas draws up a neighborly smile and stops a middle-aged woman in the street with an innocent wave of the hand, "Sorry to stop you. I'm sorta new here and I was told to go meet, uh," He clicks his finger, "I think his name was Merle?"

The lady pulls a face at his choice of clothing, and shakes him off, continuing on her way with a haughty lift of her chin.

His smile drops. "Bitch."

He's so out of his element here.

Glancing down at his shirt, he does understand why disgust would be the first emotion he's graced with. So much for blending in when he looks like he's just gone a few rounds with the dirt.

"Lucas?"

Everything in him locks up and turns to ash on his tongue. He can't even turn around to see if the voice really belongs to the person he thinks it does.

Lucas walks on, robotically, and chokes out, "You got the wrong guy."

Her hand grabs his arm and yanks him back with more force than he expects, and then he's face to face with someone he isn't prepared to see again.

Nicolá gasps, her eyes blown wide. Whatever that signifies, it isn't good. She tears her hand from his forearm and takes a step back.

Lucas doesn't know what to do. What to say.

He should walk away. But he's frozen in place, memories forcing their way up his throat and burning his eyes. It's too soon. Way too soon. For her, and for him.

Then, "Guards!"

Lucas flinches like he's ducking from a gunshot, "Nic, what the fuck?" He hisses between his teeth, grabbing her by the upper arms and dragging her to the opposite side of the street, into the shadows of a tall building.

"You don't get to call me that." She retorts, elbowing him in the ribs and ducking away. "Guards!"

Parents and kids - there were so many kids - alike turn to watch them, concerned and unsure.

Groaning, he wraps an arm around his ribs. "Please, Nicolá. You don't have a clue what's going on." He begs.

"I told you I never wanted to see your face again!" Nicola heaves out a breath, frantically glancing down the street. "I warned you to stay the fuck away."

Lucas hisses back, just as angry, "I didn't even know you were here. Don't start with that shi-"

Three uniformed men come running through the alley of a building, looking up and down the street in search.

"Nicola, please. My friends need help." Lucas sends pleading eyes up at her. He's on the verge of a panic attack and he knows it.

For a second, she looks like she's contemplating the situation. But then her brows furrow, lines creasing across her forehead, "You killed your last friend." She looks over his head. "Over here!"

"Fuck!" He takes off like never before, daring to send a glance behind him. What he sees has him heading right for the gates.

He doesn't make it.

Lucas rolls across the ground with the force of the weight slamming into him, wheezing for air. 

With his cheek pressed to grating concrete and his eyes falling to the right, he sees Nicolá, watching.