Changing To Adapt ➵ TWD

➵ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜱɪxᴛʏ ꜰᴏᴜʀ

It's dark.

In a way that's absolutely blinding. Because Lucas isn't one for darkness.

It's empty, and lonely, and confusing.

Like he's been left for dead six feet under, surrounded by wood in a handmade coffin. He's not dead, though, he thinks.

Otherwise, he wouldn't be hyperventilating, or pounding against the lid of the - it's not a coffin, he's reassured, but the trunk of a car.

Lucas is surprised he's made it this long in the apocalypse.

It's not really the fact that he's stuck in the boot that causes Lucas to panic. It's that he knows where Merle is taking Michonne.

To Woodbury, back to the Governor.

The car comes to a sudden halt, and he rolls into the boot door with a thud. His limbs are confined in a tiny space not made for his body.

Silence reigns.

It takes over his mind and leaves a buzzing in its wake.

The second the boot opens, Lucas scrambles into the light and tumbles to the gravel, inhaling the air like a new addiction.

His second reaction is to come out swinging.

A fist goes soaring, and it lands against someone's cheek, throwing them back a bit with a grunt - and the momentum has Lucas falling forward with the hit. He flies too far forward and tumbles right back to the ground.

With a groan, Lucas forces his eyes to blink past the blinding sun.

Hands help him to his feet before he can look, grasped around his upper arms. He flinches away, but the person's features twist into that of Michonne's.

He blows out a breath, filled with relief. 

Michonne reaches forward, using her fingers to lift his fringe and check his head. "Hm." Is all he gets.

Then -

Lucas's eyes widen. "Oh fuck." He jolts back, "I just fucking punched you."

Dropping her hand, Michonne rolls her eyes and nods. "You did."

The confusion slams back into Lucas and he looks over his shoulder. The car is still running, which means Merle is still driving. Michonne didn't escape, she was. . . let go?

Turning on his feet, he storms over, slaps a hand against the roof of the car and leans into the passenger window.

Deja vu hits him, for that short moment.

When he hitched a ride to the CDC in Daryl's truck.

"What're you doing?"

Merle doesn't turn to look at him, "What does it look like I'm doin', kid?" He puts the car back into drive, but Lucas doesn't leave.

"Kind of anticlimactic. Had a change of heart?" Lucas asks, still breathing hard, "What's your plan, now? Why not just come back?"

"The plan was to finish what you got goin' with the Gov'nor. If I can't use 'er to do it," Merle flicks his eyes over, and shrugs, "I'll find a way."

God, this is Daryl's brother. The only blood relative he has left in the world.

Lucas prods his tongue against his cheek, silently.

"You say you can't use her. But you were damn well about to. What changed your mind?"

This time, Merle presses the pedal, forcing Lucas to step back and let him go. The car skids off with a screech. His question is left unanswered.