Brother's Keeper || The walking dead

17.

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"..headin' out, old man?" Riven questioned as he spotted Hershel walking over to a car. He hasn't been the same since the barn, and neither has Riven.

They buried Sophia and moved the rest of the bodies far away from the farm to burn them, only leaving Hershel's stepson and wife behind to bury them also.

Riven couldn't make himself go to Sophia's grave yet. He hid from everyone, kept to himself as the days became colder, and the group moved closer to Hershel's house.

He was outside near the RV when he saw Hershel walking out of his home and towards one of his cars.

"Gonna try and stop me?" Hershel questioned, turning to face Riven, who shook his head, walking over to the passenger side.

"No. I'm going to join you." Riven got inside of the car, and he quietly closes the door.

Hershel joins him a second later, closing the door just as quietly.

Neither of them said anything as Hershel starts the car and starts to drive.

It was dark outside, the moonlight casting down on them, Riven leaned his head against the window, watching the trees go by in a blur as Hershel drove.

The silence was comfortable as Hershel continued to drive down the road, passing by a sign.

Hershel was heading into town, and it wasn't long before Hershel reached town,

The town was empty. There was no sign of any walkers around, but Riven still kept an eye out for them.

Hershel made a couple of turns before stopping the car in front of a bar.

Hershel got out of the car, and Riven followed after a moment, both of them walking into the bar. The doors slammed shut behind them, echoing throughout the bar.

No walkers. No people came out. Hershel walks over to the bar and grabs a bottle of alcohol before sitting down with a glass cup in front of him.

Riven walked behind the bar and looked through the bottles, trying to find the one that his father drank the most.

"..why'd you come out here with me?" Hershel questioned, speaking up, and Riven glanced at him before shrugging,

"Couldn't stay at the farm any longer." Riven quietly replied as he reached his hand out, grabbing a familiar looking bottle.

"Didn't take you for a drinker." Hershel commented, drowning back a shot.

Riven doesn't look at him as he looks down at the bottle in his hand, and a small chuckle escaped him, "I'm not,"

"My dad was though, and this," Riven turned to Hershel, showing him the bottle of alcohol, "was his favorite child."

"Out of three kids, his favorite had to be a bottle of alcohol," Riven huffed out a small laugh, opening the bottle,

"Might as well see how it tastes like, probably like shit." Riven brings the bottle to his lips before tossing his head back, and he drank it, but he instantly spit it out.

Hershel let's out a small laugh, "Oh God, it does taste like shit!"

He places the bottle down as he looks mere seconds away from puking, but a laugh escapes him instead.

"Why the fuck did I do that? God, the taste won't leave my mouth." Riven grimaces.

Hershel's laughter died down, and a few chuckles escape him, "What happened to your other brother?"