𝐏𝐔𝐍𝐊 𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒, the walking dead

2.

❝ 𝖧𝖠𝖵𝖤 𝖸𝖮𝖴 𝖤𝖵𝖤𝖱 𝖱𝖤𝖠𝖫𝖫𝖸
𝖣𝖠𝖭𝖢𝖤𝖣 𝖮𝖭 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖤𝖣𝖦𝖤 ? ❞

ross daydreamed. he was an avid and persistent daydreamer. especially since the apocalypse had started.

it helped him pretend everything was still normal. when he was walking alone, he pretended that his mom was still alive and joking with him the entire time. that zoe was trailing right behind them. he pretended like the dead weren't a danger sometimes, too, but that one never lasted too long.

his most recent fantasy world was one in which the prison was just an overgrown summer camp with an abundance of adults. he would go to sleep praying that he'd wake up to just that, and wake up in the morning from a dream similar to such.

of course, all good things come to an end.

he wakes up two days in a row in this fantasy and is always snapped out immediately, rolling himself up to stare at the dirty cell block he'd accepted as his new home.

him and carl shared a cell, directly next to rick and lori. he liked sharing it with carl, it almost brings humanity back to the cruelty of the state of the world.

this morning carl was up and out before he was, the sheriff's hat he perched on the top bunk while he slept being the signal he was gone. ross quickly laced up his beaten converse and strapped on his holster, keeping his knife on him as well, before stepping out of the cell to see what everyone was up to.

he sees the women of the prison gathered near the stairs, discussing something related to crutches and hershel— ross wasn't close enough with the greene family to intrude on their conversations yet.

he gravitates towards glenn, who he'd grown closer to over the past couple of days, their relative closeness of age bonding them.

the man in question was talking to rick, daryl not far off as he rounds up some arrows. they're planning something, he remarks to himself before approaching the pair.

"hey, what's going on?" he asks, hoping not to be dismissed. he had just got here but didn't want to be dead weight— they had to drag him inside the gates of this place, after all.

rick and glenn both nod in acknowledgement to his presence, before rick begins to speak. "we're gonna move the cars against the fences, reinforce this place. i don't want anymore surprises, gotta get a head start in making a home out of all this," he pauses when daryl approaches, "just came back inside to discuss the prisoners before headin' out. ross, i need you to stay in here with carl, just in case anything happens in these walls. with lori pregnant and hershel down.. maggie and beth will need some help, especially with carl,"

ross nodded, glad to be given a task. he knew they were doing a lot of moving of bodies today from what glenn had told him last night when he talked with him and maggie for a bit.

he watches as the trio of men walk out of the cell block with daryl, carol, and t-dog on their tail. he turns back to the others, his eyes scanning over the scene.

lori was sitting on the steps, maggie and beth standing on either side of her with carl hovering as well.

as he slowly approaches them, he sees that they actually had found crutches for hershel. his lip twitched into a small smile. they got super lucky with this prison's somehow well-stocked infirmary.

"yeah, i'm just nervous that he'll hurt himself," beth says, the first thing ross has heard of their conversation so far.

maggie nods in agreement, tilting her head in conflict. "he's just so desperate to be movin' again, i don't wanna deprive him of that. but if we run into a problem and he falls, or something of the likes, who's gonna pick him up?"