Changing To Adapt ➵ TWD

➵ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴡᴇʟᴠᴇ

Lucas doesn't waver. He points at the working computer.

"Unlock the damn doors."

Jenner lifts his head a fraction, eyes shifting to the white screen. Everybody holds their breath and the silence feels like a weight on his shoulders.

Everything crashes down when Jenner shakes his head and slips from view, leaving Lucas to stare at the empty wall behind him. He drops his arm and nods, biting hard on the inside of his cheek.

Legs stutter when he lowers himself behind the furthest set of desks in hiding. Out of sight, out of mind. His hands shake and he clasps them over his head, icy fingers brushing against the nape of his neck.

Regret wraps Lucas in a cold, tight hug. He should've left when he had the chance. What was he thinking? Following this group around and hoping it's large numbers proved success?

He doesn't hear much after that. Nothing but a tension he can pull apart with his bare hands.

Then, rushed footsteps.

He twists his head around the desk to watch Shane, an ex-officer invading Jenner's space - though not with words as Lucas had, but with a fully loaded shotgun.

"Open that door or I'm gonna blow your head off! Do you hear me!?"

He shoves the barrel in Jenner's face.

Jenner doesn't flinch. He's going to die anyway, be it a shotgun, or the explosion.

"Brother. Brother, this is not the way you do this, we'll never get out of here." Rick says, words borderline pleading. He tries to shove himself between them, but Shane is glued to the floor.

"Shane, you listen to him." Lori digs a gentle hand in Carl's hair, keeping him safe behind her.

"He dies, we all die!"

Shane's hand twitches, shoving the gun closer.

The ragtag group of survivors recoil in alarm.

"We all di- Shane!"

He slings the shotgun towards the computers, laying a rain of bullets into every screen but at least it isn't Jenner's head taking the brunt.

Lucas hastily ducks his head, the monitors shattering one-by-one behind him until the glass pours down over his arms and into his hair. He flinches, shoes dragging against tiles in an attempt to pull his legs closer.

Like the leader Shane can't bear to be, Rick tears the shotgun out of his hands and knocks him flat onto his ass.

"You done now?" Rick barks, breathing heavily. "You done?"

"Yeah. I guess we all are." Shane says. He glares, dropping his head to the floor.

Panting into the space between his knees, Lucas quickly slams his jaw shut. He stretches out his legs and swallows around a dry mouth.

Rick passes the gun off to T-Dog and breathes out slowly, "Lucas?"

Lucas nods. Then, realising, he calls out, "I'm okay." And shakes the glass from his hair, brushing the excess off his arms. He sticks a thumbs up past the desk until Rick sighs his relief.

Taking a second to contemplate his words, Rick turns around, pinching the bridge of his nose. Lucas takes a peek, and can see the gears twisting in his head.

When Rick drops his hand, he watches it unfold.

"I think you're lying."

Rick confronts Jenner with his heart on his sleeve.