IN WHICH - The last thing that Hope Mikaelson expected when she came out of Malivore was to still be alive, the second last thing she expected was to be disowned by most of her living family, and the final last thing she expected was some ancient be...
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CHAPTER 3
THIRD PERSON POV
"Do you think we could stop by Taco Bell?" Hope mumbles from the passenger seat, her arms crossed with a pout at the grown man beside her, who sighed for the thousandth time that morning.
"No, you dumbass, everyone that worked at Taco Bell is dead, and everything inside Taco Bell is rotten. Including the people."
They had switched drivers ten minutes into their hour long drive, and seeing as it had been thirty minutes since then, he knew she was bound to start fidgeting.
Switching universes had made her supernatural sides start messing up in different ways, an example would be the insane need to burn as much excess energy as she possible could. To the point that if she didn't burn the energy an ache would start in her shoulder blades and slowly work it's way all over her body until it felt like she was burning from the inside out. It sucked.
Thankfully, Merle knew how to offset the need to move. Which normally included yelling and cussing for a while, or pulling over the truck and making her get out for some exercises. Like killing a bunch of Walkers.
"Yeah, well I still want a taco! Do you think we could convince Hershel and them to pull out some of the winter reserve things and do a taco day? That would be good, right? I think it'd be amazing!"
"Tacos sound great, but Hershel damn sure aint going to do it. Maggie might be able to convince him."
Hope perks up, her eyes sparking, "Nope, Maggie wouldn't be able to! But Beth absolutely would! That's genius!"
Merle rolls his eyes, yawning in the process. Honestly, as good as tacos sounded, he just wanted to hole up in a bed and sleep the rest of the afternoon, shopping was exhausting. Even if he wasn't doing any actual shopping. Or rather, shopping with Hope was exhausting.
Hope leans her head against the door window, sighing in boredom for the fifth time that day.
She missed home, but home only wanted her because the things she could do for them. They didn't care about her mental health, or her health in general. It was all about her being the hero and saving the day, and if something went wrong when she saved the day then she was the villain of the story. She was always the bad guy, even if they fucked it up.
"You know what we need to grab from the stores next time?" Merle asks suddenly, cutting his eyes over to the nineteen year old who looked like she was dying of boredom, a relatively negative thing for the young partial tribrid to be.
"More knifes and guns? Possibly a horde of zombies in case we need an army?"
"Hershel is not going to let you keep a horde of zombies, at all."
