million dollar man | twd

sᴇᴄʀᴇᴛs

[ secrets ]

꧁꧂

As the days passed, the camp settled into a tenuous routine. Food was scarce, and water had to be rationed carefully. The fear of walker attacks loomed over them, but the solidarity among the survivors provided a fragile sense of security.

Lori remained distant, her animosity towards Vanessa evident in every glance and word. Shane continued to ensure Vanessa ate and drank but otherwise kept his distance, his own grief and guilt a heavy burden.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, the camp gathered for a rare moment of communal respite. A fire crackled in the center, casting flickering shadows over the weary faces. Vanessa sat on the outskirts, her body aching and her mind foggy.

Carol approached with a small bowl of soup. "Here, you should eat something," she said gently.

Vanessa accepted it with a nod, grateful for Carol's kindness. "Thanks."

As she ate, she glanced around the camp, taking in the faces of the people she now shared her life with. They were all struggling, all fighting their own battles. The nights grew colder, and the days shorter, but the camp at the quarry endured.

Vanessa's withdrawal symptoms were a constant battle and somewhere in the back of her mind, a small voice whispered that maybe, just maybe, Rick was still out there, fighting his own battles and finding his way back to them.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

As the days turned to weeks, tension between Vanessa and both Dixon brothers escalated. Their bickering had woven itself into the fabric of the camp's daily life, something everyone had grown to expect and endure.

One humid afternoon, the camp was bustling with activity. Shane was directing people on reinforcing the perimeter, Lori was tending to Carl, and Glenn was sorting through the latest supply run. Vanessa was sitting near the fire pit, attempting to mend a torn shirt. Her hands trembled slightly, a lingering effect of her withdrawal symptoms.

Daryl walked by, carrying a bundle of firewood. He paused when he saw Vanessa struggling with the needle and thread, his expression hardening. "You gonna do something useful today, or just sit there pretending?"

Vanessa's head snapped up, her eyes narrowing. "What's your problem, Dixon? I'm trying to help."

He dropped the firewood with a thud, sending up a small cloud of dust. "Help? You call that helping? You've been useless since you got here."

Vanessa stood up, the shirt falling to the ground. "You think you're so much better than everyone else, don't you? Always got something to say."

Their raised voices quickly drew the attention of the others. Shane sighed and rubbed his temples, while Lori cast a worried glance in their direction. Glenn exchanged a knowing look with T-Dog, who shook his head.