as the world caves in ◦ [rosita espinosa]

I. NO ONE SHOULD BE ALONE IN THIS WORLD

A/N: hello all. yes, i am writing a walking dead fic in 2020, this is what the pandemic has done to me. this is a slowburn rosita fic with an afab nonbinary original character (i realize this is a very niche category of fic, but as an afab nonbinary person i rarely, if ever, get to see myself represented in fics, much less a walking dead one, and there are also very few rosita fics, so here we go!). this starts in the season 3 episode "hounded" and will continue on from there. i stick to the official timeline in the beginning, but i'll eventually be fudging the numbers because it makes absolutely no sense that the events of season 1 to season 8 take place in less than two years. with all that being said, i hope you enjoy this fic! happy reading :)

It's been 310 days.

At least, that's how long Janey thinks it's been. They're not really sure of the timeline, given how hard it is to keep track of time passing these days.

They've been sleeping in the woods for the last month or so, keeping one eye open at almost all times. Living alone in this new world is not easy, but Janey's last group had been torn apart by walkers, leaving the few survivors to scatter on their way from the camp. They hadn't seen anyone else since then; at least, not anyone alive.

Janey had planned to stay in the woods, constantly moving to avoid a repeat of the last time they settled somewhere, but the need for something other than the nuts and berries that the wilderness provided leads them to enter the small grocery store. It's there where everything changes.

They're in the snack aisle of the store, perusing the almost barren shelves for something to take with them back into the woods. There's a couple bags of stale chips left, a treasure in this new world. Janey carefully places them in their backpack and throws one strap over their shoulder, quickly moving to the next aisle. They had done a quick sweep of the store when they entered, and it was devoid of people and walkers, but they had no idea how long it would stay that way. It would be better if they got what they needed and left as quickly as they could.

There's a few cans of beans left in the Hispanic food aisle; Janey takes those, too, throwing them in the bag on top of the chips and zipping it up, the bag slightly bulging. They swing both straps on, shoulders slumping at the extra weight. They swipe a hand at the back of their neck, pulling their stringy orange hair out from under the straps, before turning to face the entrance of the store. That's when the doors swing open, a man and a woman walking inside with their guns raised.

Immediately, the couple spots them. Their eyes widen, both keeping their guns raised and aimed at Janey, who raises their own gun in return. The three stand there for a beat in silence, unsure what to do. Janey hasn't had to interact with other people in so long, they don't know how to get out of this situation.

Suddenly, the woman lowers her gun, turning to the man next to her and placing a hand on his arm. He meets her gaze, incredulous, but she says, "Glenn, that's just a kid."