Changing To Adapt ➵ TWD

➵ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜰɪᴠᴇ

"You calling Guillermo a liar?"

Daryl sends him a withering glare. "Are you a part of this? You wanna hold onto your teeth?" And whacks him over the head.

From the desk closest to the boy, Lucas leans forward. "'member the hand?" He warns him.

Daryl twists the hunting knife in his fingers, threateningly.

Miguel swallows with difficulty.

"Question is, do you trust that man's word?" T-Dog asks.

Lucas pulls himself onto the desk, turning to raise a brow at T-Dog. "Do you trust anyone's word anymore?"

The four of them, all with very different levels of trust, look between each other.

"I mean, c'mon." Lucas scoffs, "We're on the same side but none of us trust each other. I've seen y'all eyeing me like I'm gonna pop you in the back of the head." He mimics a gun going off at his temple.

Daryl stands abruptly, dismissing his line of rambling. "No, question is, what are you willing to bet on this? Could be more than them guns. Could be your life. Glenn worth that to you?"

One man for his own life, one man for more than that.

"What life I have I owe to him," Rick says. "I was nobody to Glenn, just some idiot stuck in a tank. He could have walked away, but he didn't. Neither will I."

"Would you have left your brother behind?" Lucas asks.

Daryl shuffles on his feet, suddenly silent.

"So, you're gonna hand them guns over?" He clears his throat.

∆

"I see my guns but they're not all in the bag." The man in charge crosses his arms.

"That's because they're not yours. I thought I mentioned that." Rick lowers his voice, cocking his head to the side.

Lucas tightens his hold on the gun, feeling dangerously foreign in his hands, and releases a heavy exhale the second he's dismissed from using it. The old lady - Felipe's mother - leads them past Guillermo and into the hideout, helping them locate their "missing person" by taking them straight to Glenn.

She thought the world was still intact. Oblivious to the dangers past the door.

Lucas feels a headache coming on and continues dragging his feet through the hallway. They were seconds away from fighting people who were doing more good than they were.

They push through to the gymnasium, eyes settling on a crowd surrounding one man. Glenn stands off to the side, watching. No injuries. No harm.

"What's happening?" Lucas asks, tucking his gun away.

"An asthma attack. Couldn't get his breath all of a sudden." Glenn says, nonchalantly. He was blissfully unaware of how much danger they thought he was in.

"I thought you were being eaten by dogs, man," T-Dog whines.

Glenn glances behind him and Lucas follows his eyes to see the dogs. Fluffy clouds, light brown in fur. Chihuahuas, that's all they were.

"Oh, no. Hell hounds." Lucas says sarcastically, leaning over to scratch his fingers behind one's ear.

"Could I have a word with you?" Rick sighs, turning to Guillermo. The latter reluctantly gestures to a quieter corner of the room.

Lucas stands back up, lolling his head to crack his neck. "So you weren't being, like, beaten?" He stares at Glenn.

Glenn shrugs, "They just kind of, let me help out?"

"Huh."

They settle into an awkward silence.

Rick sidles up to them, gun bag half full. "Let's go." He says, starting towards the exit.

Lucas ducks his head on the way out, so he won't be swayed by the community they have here. It looks safe. Quiet.

But if anything were to happen? Those elderly? Dead.

Walking out the doors and back onto the streets is disorientating, moving from one world into another. He has to squint and get his eyes accustomed again.

"Admit it, you only came back to Atlanta for the hat." Glenn jokes, adjusting his own baseball cap and wiping away the sweat.

"Don't tell anybody," Rick says, smiling.

Daryl breaks the moment and scowls at them, "You've given away half our guns and ammo."

"'least we didn't die," Lucas remarks.

"For what? Bunch of old farts who are gonna die off momentarily anyhow? Seriously, how long you think they got?"

"How long do any of us?"

Lucas comes to a sudden halt. Silence encompasses them the minute the others follow his wide-eyed stare.

The van is gone.

"Where the hell's our van?" Daryl's teeth grind together, audible to those in the vicinity.

Lucas feels his heart drop, spinning around to look at them, "It's gonna take ten times as long to get back, the fuck do we do now?"

"We left it right there. Who would take it?" Glenn asks.

". . .Merle."