𝙵𝙻𝙴𝚂𝙷 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙱𝙾𝙽𝙴 | 𝚃. 𝙾𝚃𝚃𝙾 𐂃

- Cristine & Troy -

"That was just stupid! Why'd you get involved in their business?" Cristine just accepted the barrage of anger from her father. Hailey was helping her pack the last few medical supplies inside the infirmary.

"Same reason I got involved between you and Vernon. But whatever bonds you men." Cristine offhandedly commented.

"Don't get smart with me! This is serious." James pointed a finger at his daughter with unrestrained anger and licked his lower lip. Distress seemed to be their father's permanent mood since the attack.

"Don't be angry with her daddy." Hailey cut in and addressed her irritated father, "I asked Cristine if she could be the voice of reason and help calm everyone down."

James sighed heavily, the deep crease still present on his face. He was tired. Ashamed. Guilt. All the negative emotions weighed down on his chest and body. It felt as if he aged with each passing minute. The way he'd beg Vernon to stah, but that little stunt with Troy pushed him over the edge. It was unfortunate that his words didn't weigh as much as Jeremiah. And Jeremiah was just as stubborn and prideful. He wasn't going to beg. Hell, Otto would rather the Ranch be without people to defend it and have it burned down than fight for a thirty year long brotherhood. The Founding Fathers dwindled with the death of Russel and Phil. And now Vernon. Maybe he should've accepted that drink from Otto senior the day before they left. A curt look at Cristine and James suddenly imagined the mirage of his first wife and that idea washed down the drain.

"You two behave, I'm going to talk to Dolores."

"Remember to count to ten daddy." Hailey and Cristine said in sync when their father left them with a quick wave. The two sisters then looked at each other before a snort and pitched giggle filled the infirmary room. The chuckle soon turned into a sob and the tears began to fall down the youngest Gerard sister. Hailey automatically went into her sister's arms and sniffed and wiped her tears on her shoulders. The quiver of her small body paired with her shaky hiccups stifled the air inside the room. Rubbing her back tenderly, Cristine's expression shifted into a thoughtful one. After comforting Hailey, she left for their camper and left Cristine to pack up the last things. Looking around, the brunette leaned against the edge of one of the portable beds and rubbed the back of her neck wearily. Whilst pondering over the dilemma of a quarter of their community breaking from them, her father's reckless stunt that two of them killed, and Jake in enemy territory, Cristine chewed on her lip and was so drowned in her thoughts, she barely registered the hesitant cough. Snapped out of her daze, Cristine whipped her head to see Troy standing near the entrance. The emotions on his face were almost nonexistent when he peered at her.

"You alright?" The long silence was finally broken by her question.

"He's dead to me with every other coward that wants to run," Troy spat back, walked up to her and plopped right next on the cot. He looked down at the ground, at his stretched legs and boots. "I rounded up everyone who is still willing to fight for us," Troy explained and remembered Madison her encouraging words to help him. Whether she was trying to manipulate him or not didn't matter to him. Their interests aligned; protect their families. "We had the full advantage… this could've been over if it wasn't for Jake."

"I know," Cristine answered and scratched the top of her jeans. She wanted to whisper something positive, but couldn't think of a single thing. "Alicia thinks he did it so we all could live. In particular for the Kathy's of this world. Guess he thought about the Kathy's on the other side too."

"He gave our advantage to the enemy on a silver platter. Walker's going to scalp him and send his head back to our doorstep. You weren't at the outpost Cristine… what he did to Phil. That's not a man who wants to negotiate. That's someone who scalps and burns people. Because he wants what we have. He still doesn't have the weapons or the manpower or he wouldn't have pulled his men back. He's bluffing at this point." Troy countered and stretched back to stand on his feet.

Cristine mirrored his actions and frowned in response to Troy's keen observation. "Well his bluff worked. People are still leaving despite it all. It still leaves us vulnerable. How long until the reet lose their motivation and there's no one left? If our numbers dwindle now, its not going to be much of a fight. You men and your stupid pride are going to get us all killed." Cristine chewed her lower lip again and with a growing exasperation wrung her hands together.

"It's sticking to your principles. Most seemed to have forgotten that. Stealing shit from the Ranch and all," Troy bit back clearly annoyed. If walls, weapons, food, a militia and pantry wasn't enough for these cowards, then what use was asking them to stay. They didn't deserve this place, at all. They were dead people walking.

"What the hell is sticking to your principles going to do when everything is gone? We'll starve and be left defenseless. Then, all Walker has to do is really walk through the gates this time cause we'll be too weak to retaliate." The twitch of his face showed Troy's annoyance. Cristine was making sense, said the right things, but there was no solution within her criticism. He wet his lips and slid his arms behind his hips, tilting his body and glowered at her.

"He's still using his chicken shit scare tactics. Like I said, he can only bluff. I have volunteers willing to leave their suicide note for the greater good. Any other suggestions?" Troy didn't care if he sounded hateful or accusing. He didn't care about anyone at this point. At least he did something compared to his brother and father. The people here needed to be guided and he'd take that burden upon himself.

"Scare tactics," Cristine blurted out the blue. Troy looked at her again, confused. The side of her face pointed down and instead of interrupting her thought patterns, Troy waited for her to concoct whatever plan it was that went through her mind. His eyes twitched. Spotting a mark on her cheek. It caught his attention and he wondered what had happened. Troy relaxed his hands and before his mind registered the action, he raised his arm and curiously pressed his thumb on top of the wound.

Cristine tensed and jerked in reflex, whipping her head around and breaking contact. The way her eyes stretched and brows shot up comical. Her surprise switched to a wary confusion, but she didn't speak. Inky brown eyes cryptically make sense of his inquiry where she got this bruise from. Something inside Troy's gut confusingly stirred. Connvincing him Cristine was more restless than usual. Or maybe he was after these long and hectic two days, though he could easily pick apart the emotional shift around Cristine. But unlike before, he could see through her façade so easily. She was clearly anxious about something.

Troy stated in a low murmur, "you're acting off and it's not about people leaving." Her eyes told him so. They glowed hot with emotion and betrayed the indifferent mask on her face. That quick switch from fiery hot to ice cold. Like a switch she turned on and off at will. The false front when she'd cross that shaky line of morality she clung on to for some reason and still seemed to make her sick to the stomach. The quick flutter of her eyes and her twisting her jaw from side to side. Troy was able to discern those subtle signals Cristine gave off. Signs he could spot from a mile and drew him closer, usually wanting more to uncover. Always in need to peel down the layers of her raw complexity and fascinating emotions. It was hard for Troy not to do that. He did it with Madison, but with Cristine it was always different. New, thrilling, and kept him on his toes. Cristine was worth probing. For some reason, Troy had the feeling the woman held the answers to questions his mind bore when he was by himself.

He heard her inhale after asking, "what happened Cristine?"

"It's handled," Cristine answered in a beat with a shake of the head, hoping that would appease Troy. She didn't even try to deny that something occurred. She just didn't want to tell him what it was. As expected, the answer didn't satisfy Troy at all and she felt his hand slip around her arm. His grip neither weak or firm. It was just right and she knew he wasn't going to let it go. Parting her lips, she found the right words to deliver the news, "I put down Jack before. He got bit by Theo." Her voice was steady, but the trace of disdain managed to slip through in a slightly cracked form. "It wasn't an accident… my dad he-" Cristine paused, so distracted from reciting the story Troy tugged at her arm a few times to coax her concentration and urged her to spill every detail. "-he ordered the militia to thin out on purpose so a few dead could get into the camp. The idea behind it was to show the militia's capability. Convince those talking about running they wouldn't make it without the community… that without our militia they'd die out there. It got out of hand."

Troy finished, "as a result Jack and Theo were the sacrifices and Jake went to beg for peace. It was a good plan, risky, but credits to your dad." Cristine chewed on her lip and looked away, angrily brushing aside the compliment. As if it was the most normal thing to use their own people as pawns. Having none of that, Troy repeatedly stepped in her line of sight until she gave up and looked at him again. In this moment, the rarity of her vulnerable side was clear and so captivating to him. Troy felt the urge to highlight the positive aspects of the situation. "Remember when you said it's not on me if people leave? It's not on you if people die Cristine. It's how the world is now. Your father made a complicated call. Hell, I would have probably done the same if I was in his shoes. Complicated problems call for complicated solutions."

"Those are our people you're talking about!" Cristine sneered. Troy saw the quick fluttering of her lashes, the twitch of her upper lip to haul in the bottled up emotions. Troy pulled her towards him with a bit more force and brought her much closer than necessary, to the point where he could see the dark brown instead of black glow and her pupils stretching.

"You're not naïve to the trolley problem Cristine. Sounds to me Vernon forced James's hand. If he didn't petition against us and drag others into it, leaving all of us vulnerable, we wouldn't be in this mess." Troy finally slipped his hand down her lower arm, squeezing it, expecting her to push him and storm off. She didn't. Troy waited for her reaction, head tilted to the side and stare curious.

"That's not-" Cristine her breathing was a bit uneven, but low, thoughts occupied with deciphering what was the right response. She could make hard calls. Torture a man, deceive and lie when necessary. She'd done all those things and more under the term survival. But she didn't care about those dead faces. They were unimportant. Strangers. Means to an end and necessary. Ending their lives justified her actions, but this? Why were her father, Blake, and Troy heartless in their reasoning even when it came to their own? It didn't make any sense. It meant that even she was disposal when it came down to it and that made a chill creep up and down her spine.

"Who else did you tell?" Troy asked, seeing Cristine struggle to form a response. Her mind was probably running hundreds of miles per hour. He decided to change his tactics a bit and nudge Cristine in the right direction to alleviate his worries. She'd done the same for him. She supported his plan to bring the fight here. Gave him the opportunity to dirty his hands for the good of the Ranch when she saw it necessary. Cristine proved her loyalty a while ago and in Troy's eyes that was everything. She had his back. Troy only felt it natural he did the same for her in return. It proved a large amount trust and loyalty and Cristine had more than earned that from him.

"Just you. But Blake was in on it." Cristine followed Troy's relaxed gestures, hands on his hips and nodded in understanding. She tightened her gaze, waiting for him to make his point.

"Makes sense. He was the one in charge." Troy nodded thoughtfully to himself. "You know no one can know."

"I know, it's just-"

Voice stern, Troy gave her no room to argue, "no one. Listen, I get that it's hard for you. You're more involved with the people as our medic and worried about your dad. Just treat it like all the other times you didn't have to think and did what you had to do. I didn't bat an eye back then and I won't look at you any other way now." Hearing that conviction out loud, albeit a bit self-centered coming from him. As if Cristine was only worried about his opinion. That idea. lossomed a strange and complicated twitch on her face. "That's why you're telling me this, right? You wanted me to know. Just me. Maybe for your own piece of mind, but I won't judge you for keeping this under wraps." Silence passed again while Troy's serious eyes flicker and relaxed for the briefest of moments. He wet his lip, briefly smiled and confessed, "I trust you and you can trust me, alright?" Like a sequence of ripples slowly starting within a puddle, that was how the implication of Troy's promise slammed into her. He watched her response unfold, dark irises peering up searching for a slither of deceit. Her features finally went slack after what felt like minutes and she was sure of his words. Cristine pressed her lips together into a straight line. That was the end of it.

During this rare moment of disclosing his conviction, the militant and manipulative Troy wasn't there. Were it any other situation, Cristine would roll her eyes and dismiss him, but she bobbed her up and down, drawing that slightest tug of a smile from Troy with a cool nod. Fighting against the sudden heat in the back of her neck and clogged her throat, Cristine was conscious of how close they were. Closer than Cristine was comfortable admitting... even if she didn't mind it as much. It was comforting in a disturbed and messed up sense. She eventually puffed out air through her lips, fighting the heat on her skin and scratched her throat before stepping back and put a decent distance between them. However, Cristine felt emboldened by Troy's acknowledgement of their mercurial and constantly moving friendship. She raised her fingers to touch the bruise on her cheek Troy touched, tracing the sensitive mark. "I tried to stop Vernon from trying to fight my dad... must've gotten it from then," she murmured.

Troy lightly ran his tongue through the inside of his mouth, not surprised she was trying to be the voice of reason. Troy clenched his fist, fought the urge to ask her why she would do something that stupid. He didn't really expect her to be hit cause of that. Heck, he didn't rely expect Cristine to step between him and Mike either. It was always Jake and Mike who had his back. But these many betrayals these pasr days, blew him over his top. Moving his tense jaw from left to right, Troy went fully still at her raised eyes. The stare like needles pricking lightly through his skin.

"The ones that leave don't know what's out there. Not really. I understand that my father wanted to use fear to keep them here. But he went about it the wrong way. What they need to fear is Walker; what a real person can do to them. The dead are predictable. People aren't." An unexpected tide of emotions rose in Troy and took him by surprise. It was hard to put a name to it - partly relief but mostly a drive to still turn this all around. Cristine came up with a rather simple idea. Even under that previous emotional stress, she managed to keep her cool now. The way she just went from emotional to clinical just captivating to Troy. "We control the situation with no risk of them getting hurt. Just rile them up."

"An ambush," Troy stated with a nod. Now that there was a possibility to keep Mike and the others here, he was determined to not leave it up to chance. "Walker has a Vendetta against our dads, Vernon included. It wouldn't be out of character if he still went after him. A planned ambush under the impression that it's Walker. That's sure to convince them."

"Scare tactics." Cristine mused with a light nod. It was a fairly simple idea, "this needs to be as covert as possible. I can help. Maybe some of the guys? Also," Cristine added with a pointed look, "you need to stop being angry with Mike. If you had to choose your family, you would too."

Troy peered at Cristine, surprised she'd be even aware of the extra layer behind his anger. "I was about to beat his ass and he still couldn't respond to me," he coughed and the complicated emotions were on full display as pure confusion. "He's always been soft, but not like this... some best friend right? Abandoning the ones he was tight with. It doesn't make any sense, knowing there's nothing good outside."

"You make sure he comes back," Cristine's urged without hesitance, tone filled with a certainty this would work. Pulling in her neck and searching for his bothered gaze. Cristine wanted to make sure she conveyed her message and trust to Troy. He seemed slightly taken aback by her remark. It was strong and showed the the trust she put in him that it left Troy speechless. This type of support was more than Mike, eveb Jake, had ever shown him when things got difficult. "Then you talk, beat his ass or do whatever it is that bonds you men. Remember; think first, act later. It's not too late."

Her words strangely swayed him and Troy exhaled, dropping his tense shoulders in the process. "It's my responsibility, so I'll handle it."

"You sure?"

There was a brief pause in the air before his resplendent answer cut through the air. "I got this."