Don't Be Scared

S.1 E.7 ~ WFUB (Ch. 41)

The death of our leader, our lover, our biggest idea creator, our boss, our father-figure.. our friend. I get it if Cassandra, 10K, and Murphy aren't mourning, aren't feeling what Warren and I are feeling but the rest of us?

Mack acts like it's any another day. Doc acts like Charlie never even existed. Addy acts like Charlie never helped her out in her lowest times. Why isn't anyone wanting to mourn with us? Show any type of negative emotions?

They seem so alright and it's not alright. It's driving me crazy. Maybe it really was my fault he died; he was murdered. Maybe if Murphy didn't intervene, Charlie wouldn't have taken the bullet.

We would've figured out an alternative; we always figure out an alternative. We would've made it out if I would've kept my mouth shut. We'd all be alive—all of us here. The whole group going to California. Is this whole thing really my fault?

Do I just want someone to blame for what he had willingly done? I leaned my elbows on my straightened legs as I ran my fingers through my tangled hair when I slouched down.

"Hey. Wake up. Hey. No, you can't just check out. We got a job to do, and I'm running out of time. California is still awhile and we aren't gonna make it without you. 'Cause it's not like they're gonna follow me, or the old man, or the wonder twins out there."

I rolled my eyes at the suffocating selfish man. Prick. The next noise belonged to Addy and Mack as they zoomed back down to us. Then, their engine was shut off.

"Addy and I will scout up ahead. See if we can get some help." Mack's voice brought my attention back to the situation at hand rather than the one that--seemed to be--already passed.

Something must've broken on the truck, again. His last form of transportation probably knows that Charlie isn't in the passenger seat; maybe it misses him as well?

"We will?" Addy asked, not liking my brother's plan.

What's wrong with her?

"Yeah. Hold on." Mack muttered.

Doc's words fell onto selective-hearing ears as Mack insisted they go ahead of us. The side of the truck leaned over due to the added weight to only one side. I opened up my eyes to be met with a familiar pair of dirty blue jeans.

Then, a hand full of warmth that Mack always brought to me whenever he puts his hands on my shoulders. Charlie use to have heat in his body. Now, he's getting consumed by insects and decomposing, slowly.

"You okay?" Mack's question broke me out of the morbid thought.

"Charlie just died and everyone is acting like it's nothing. Doc is still his cheerful self. Murphy is still a jerk. Cassandra is still closed off. You're acting fine." I mumbled, crossing my arms over my chest and leaned my back against the dust covered window.

I'm just mad. I rather it be him that I tell this to than the others.

"Sis, I know what you're doing. You're blaming everyone, including yourself, for moving on too fast. You have to understand, in this world, there is no time to mourn."

I looked up at him with the most expressionless face I could muster up, even though my eyes were red and puffy from crying, "At least I can still feel something in the apocalypse. At least I cared about him, Mack."

Mack released the breath of air he was holding, already growing fed up with me and my emotional self, "Just because we're not mourning visibly, or like you want us to, doesn't mean we aren't channeling this in different ways. Charlie affected all of us."

"None of you are, though!" I gripped the roots of my hair, bending my neck down to focus on anything other than his face, "You're all acting like this death was absolutely nothing. None of you have cried. None of you have acted out. None of you have done anything to show remorse about his death. He loved us and--."

"He'd do the same. You didn't see him crying for Blue Sky Camp, knowing that those kids died. You didn't see him tearing himself apart for something he couldn't help. You're focusing all of your self hatred onto us, because you feel like this whole mess could've been prevented. You're blaming yourself and that's messing you up."

My mouth refused to preach something back at Mack's truthful words. Every single word he sermonized to me was true; from Charlie's emotions to my own hatred.

"Charlie wouldn't have wanted this for you or Warren. Charlie would've wanted you to move on from his death, because that's going to get you killed in the apocalypse, (Y/N)."

"He's going to turn into a memory, Mack." My voice cracked at my brother's given name, "I don't want him to turn into a memory like mama or daddy. I don't want him to go away; I don't want to miss him."

Tears were an emotional release, but they pricked the small area they touched. Pricking the ledge of my eyelid, begging for the dam to break. I wanted to cry, I really did, but I lost the key to unlock that door.

For whatever reason that is.

"He's going to. That's all part of this world. But you know what, if you want his memory to carry on, stop crying, stop feeling bad for yourself and do something that Charlie died believing in. When you do that, you'll remember him and know that you're doing something that Charlie would've done."

Find a cure. Be a savior. Tell my kids what I done in this world and what I expect them to do in the next. My head slowly tilted back against the window to look into Mack's deep, forest green eyes.

He's right and I'm wrong; like always. He's so right about Charlie and I was on the wrong path. I was straying from what Charlie really wanted me to do already.

"He'd want me to get Murphy to California. And like him, do whatever it took."

"So, what are you going to do now?"

"Get Murphy to California."

"Why?"

"Because Charlie would've.." A ball of sadness clogged my throat, again, but I could only ignore it, "..would've wanted us to move on and be free from his death."

Mack's righteous lips twitched upward into a pleased smile. Mack has always been a good brother. Before apocalypse and during apocalypse. No matter how many times I'm heading towards the wrong path, he leans me back to the favorable path.

This man deserved the world. Too bad I could only give him a Twinkie. Mack leaned down towards me as he tilted my face downward by my rosy red cheeks. Gently, he leaned his lips against my temple.

"Mourn now, but at the next destination, it's time to continue with him but as a memory."

I didn't need to nod my head to let him know I understood his words. Instead I relaxed my shoulders against the metal and glass wall behind me.

"Addy and I are going to go for a bit to look for help or whatever we can find. We'll be back soon."

Quickly, I shot my hand out in between us, but extended the smallest digit on my hand.

"Promise me you'll come back."

"I promise."

Mack's much larger pinkie wrapped around my own before jumping off of the bedding to return to the awaiting players.

No more tears. No more pain. Only survival with the memory of Charles Garnett.

|| "You have to understand, in this world, there is no time to mourn anymore" ||