The Crafting Dead Short stories

S6-E10: A True Hero

A/N: Back again with another novelization request. This time for Season 6! Another confrontation between Nick and Ross and a dash of Sky!

This is requested by artgurl! Actually, I've always wanted to write this bit but I wasn't sure how to word it well enough given how short the scene is. But what the hell let's give it a whirl shall we? Sorry in advance if it sounds rushed still!

I hope you enjoy this novelization bit!

I can try to do requests as long as they're within the series, though I can try to do an original bit like I did with Barney's Death but that'll be tricky to do. Still, I'll try my best, if I can't do that then I apologize in advance and hope you can settle with an actual moment from the series itself.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Pain... so much pain...

The burning... the burning intense and hot... made the world spin and tilt...

'NO! Don't lose focus! He's there... Focus on getting your ass over to him and make him pay dearly!'

A huff, a puff... barely getting air for his lungs. A coughing fit, stealing what breath he had. He shook his head and forced himself to calm his breathing, to allow air to pass into his lungs more easily. Its difficult but he has to.

He just has to.

Hazel eyes blinked away the haze, forced the world to stop spinning and sharpened with clarity to see where he was. 'That's right... just keep going... I'm not letting him escape a second time...' But his body said otherwise, another wave of burning pain, seizing his muscles and locking them in painful agony. He cried out, stumbling but held on... endured...

Walkers groaned and scratched at the doors they hid behind but fewer paid attention to the noise outside their worlds... It wasn't long now.

He ignored them and continued, but his body protested, cried out for rest. Just a little rest. Yet, ignored that call for sleep, refused to heed the heavy spell for rest. He refused to let his battered body take away his mission. 'Fuck what what my body wants! I want HIM dead. That's all that matters.'

A fire burned behind those hazel eyes as he forced himself to take those steps onward toward his destination.

The black blaze of revenge.

'You will pay.'

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Another couple of gunshots fired as Nick threw open the glass doors that led to the roof of the White House and rushed out toward the mad scientist. Whether Ross heard him coming or not, truth be damned because the brunet sure as fuck didn't have the time to care at this point. They were sitting on a fucking bomb of all things, ready to blow them all sky high; lives were on the line here and as goddamn leader of this survival group it was his job to get them out alive.

Fuck Ross knowing he was on the roof.

Speaking of whom, the narwhal turned to greet him with a sniper rifle in hand, no shock, no fear... no fucking surprise. It was really bothering Nick at this point that this Avatar literally gave no fucks about the lives he ruined or stole. And his superior tone wasn't pleasing to the ears either as he spoke, "Hello Nick."

Nick glared at him, feeling fear, frustration and the need to rush... all the things the narwhal lacked, giving they were sitting on a bomb. But he had to calm down some, it wasn't much use if he got shot this early. 'At least its giving everyone a chance to get out without Ross focused on them.' There's that glimmer of a silver lining.