Insecure ||10k/Z Nation Fanfiction|| [ON HOLD]

11 - Mute

+ S A G E ' S P.O.V +

It's been what? Two weeks? Sounds about right. I haven't moved, let alone spoken. I'm pretty sure Warren thinks I'm dead, and deep down I'm hoping I am.

Today we are taking 10k's, still asleep figure, and the rest of our stuff closer to California. We were wasting time.

I grab my weapons, and hop into the back of the truck, along with 10k. I sit at the end of the bed, beside the tailgate. I lean against it and drop my head again, pressing my hood lower onto my head.

I fiddle with my knife as I think sorrowfully to myself. I don't know what I'll do if 10k dies. He's my everything- before this I couldn't bare to even feel sad for a deer or bear I killed- and now I can't stop feeling.

I think that's what's happening, I'm changing back into my old self- no emotions. No regrets. No life.

I felt as if I wasn't living anymore, like I was soon to die anyway, so there was no point in hope.

---

After we got back into another town, it's been three days. And I was cold, tired, hungry, and mute. Murphy acts like he is all that and munches on every god damn thing we see, the others don't seem to mind- because I hunt and cook food- but of course Murphy gets mine.

I'm starving myself, honestly. I let him take the food- mostly because of three reasons. 1) I'm too tired to do shit. 2) I'm trying to starve myself. 3) I'm turning mute.

So I supply my duties to the group and let them have my share of the resources.

What can I do anyway? I hunt, cook, kill, watch 10k, don't eat- don't drink, and I am the most excellent shooter they have right now.

Tommy please wake up..

---

We get into a hotel, I don't really take notice to much because my eyes are glued on the ground as Warren and Doc carry 10k in. Have I mentioned how much of a complete bitch Cassandra is?

She acts all lovey-dovey with 10k like their a couple just to piss me off- and now she's checking her nails like it's such a big deal in the apocalypse.

Anyway,

I step inside of the hotel and walk through the whole building, killing all of the undead beasts I find, before slowly making my way back downstairs.

"Is it clear?" Warren asks. I give her the 'do-you-even-have-to-ask' look, and she nods.

We all find rooms that suit us- or in my case, I get whatever room no-one wants. Even if it's disgusting, moldy, dirty, and smells like piss.

Which in my luck- it is.

So I'm stood here, perched in the middle of this absolutely repulsive excuse for a room.

I huff and walk downstairs, and into the dining hall- where everyone is.

"Why do you have that look? You too selfish and ungrateful for the room you have?" Murphy snickers. Warren opens her mouth instantly, a distasteful look on her face from Murphy's comment- but Cassandra cuts her off.

"No, she's probably thankful- that way she can complain to 10k about how terrible we treat her," she laughs obnoxiously, "why is she even considered a part of this group? She does absolutely nothing- unlike me."

Warren, again, opens her mouth, but I spin- causing my hood to fall- and snap my hazy gaze toward Cassandra, who is leaning against the chair Murphy sits in.

"You listen here- you ungrateful whore-" I snap, "I've done more for this group in the past twenty-four hours than you have in the past three months. So you can get your lazy bum in that room and tell me that I'm the ungrateful one." I finish my loud rant, practically fuming.

I spin on my heel, tears trickling down my pale cheeks, and I make it three steps forward before I turn my cheek to everyone in the room, my eyes closed.

"And don't you dare bring Tommy into this." I squeak out- just loud enough for them to hear my harsh purposed words.

I turn again and walk up all of the steps, onto the very top floor- which no one bothered to look about, except me.

It's beautiful- a rooftop that overlooks the whole city, with flowers and weeds decorating the rusty features.

Very few chairs- two or three- placed randomly in the middle of it all, a pleasant arrangement.

For now, I just rest until I could be forced in different, and even then would I put up a great fight. It's become one of my favorite spots- a unique hold reeling me in.

And I sit in silence, grateful for the tears that finally get to glide peacefully down my porcelain like cheeks.