Changing To Adapt ➵ TWD

➵ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜰɪꜰᴛʏ ᴇɪɢʜᴛ

Andrea had come like Lucas told her to.

But she was gone as soon as she came. Showing up at the prison with her hands held high. She had planned to make things right between groups, had hoped that she could fix things.

Until she found out the Governor had been lying to her.

He'd blamed the prison for the shootout. Said they shot first, and Woodbury retaliated.

But when she saw Lucas on the cot, Axel's dead body, Theo's, and the gates lying flat against the grass - she understood how far Phillip was planning to go.

It was clear she didn't want to stay with them, though. Perhaps she still had some hope that she could smooth things over at Woodbury.

They gave her a gun, and a car.

And Lucas stopped her before she left, to be the first and only one to apologize. For leaving her at the farm.

Eyes red-rimmed, she hugged him and pulled away quickly to hide the tremble of her chin. 

Lucas drags himself out of his room that night to the sound of Beth singing, her voice soft, almost like it's been untouched by the cruelty of a dark world. But he knows she's seen as much as they have now.

He stops at the top of the stairs, leaning his weight against the railing to test how much his shoulder could take. So far so good, he thinks.

Rick smoothes past him with Judith in his arms, fast asleep and rocking to and fro. Lucas hasn't even made eye contact with the kid, let alone held her.

"You got to hold on, hold on.
Got to hold on.
Take my hand, I'm standing right here, got to hold on."

Lucas lowers himself to the ground, hangs an arm over the middle rail, and tucks his chin over it too.

"Well, he gave her a dime-store watch.
And a ring made from a spoon.
Everyone's looking for someone to blame.
If you share my bed, you share my name."

Her voice is beyond soothing. Like something out of a fairytale, curling around his heart like a warm hug. It makes him sad, too. That she doesn't get to do this often.

Lucas smiles when she makes eye contact.

"When there's nothing left to keep you here.
When you're falling behind in this big blue world.
You got to hold on.
Hold on .
Got to hold on.
Take my hand, I'm standing right here.
Got to hold on. . ."

By the time morning rolls around, Rick has a plan. This includes dragging Lucas from the comfort of his bed, taking him, Carl, and Michonne to the outskirts of Atlanta.

"You've been cleared by Hershel, let's go." Rick swings a hand out towards the door, answering Lucas's confused and tired expression.

Jolting at the sudden orders, Lucas rushes to get his jacket and shoes on. "So s'alright?" He glances at his makeshift sling.

"Hershel says not to exert yourself. Stick to using your good arm." Rick pauses, turns around, and lifts a stern finger, "And tell me if it's too much."

Lucas lowers his head in a nod but squints up through his fringe at Rick.

Ever since the Governor spilled his secrets in a twisted version of the truth, they've been treating him differently. Like he's not to be trusted, which is fair, considering.

This leaves Lucas in the awkward situation of trying to find the right time to reveal what truly happened. He hasn't talked about it before.

Lucas wants to go on this run, yes, anything to get him out of bed. But something felt off.