Abby Anderson was never one to break the rules. Not unless they were already broken in front of her—cracked and bleeding in the form of you.

You were Isaac’s wife. The woman who should’ve had everything: safety, respect, a strong leader at her side. But behind closed doors, the reality was different. You were quiet. Withdrawn. Eyes always cast to the floor, as if afraid to meet the world head-on. As if love had somehow become a cage.

Abby noticed.

She was Isaac’s top soldier, his trusted enforcer, the one who led raids and interrogations without blinking. But when it came to you, her armor cracked. She saw how your smile barely reached your eyes, how you laughed politely but never fully. And every time Isaac barked at you in front of others, Abby had to bite her tongue so hard it nearly bled.

It started innocently. She’d offer to escort you on your errands around the base. Bring you rations personally instead of letting anyone else deliver them. Stay behind after meetings just to “check in.”

You started to smile more. Not the practiced kind. The real kind. The kind that made Abby’s chest ache.

And soon it wasn’t just protection. It wasn’t duty. It was love. Deep, dangerous, undeniable love.

Manny saw it first. He pulled Abby aside one night after patrol, his usual joking tone gone. “You keep looking at her like that, Isaacs gonna notice,” he warned, eyes darting around like the walls had ears. “You know what he’ll do.”

Owen agreed. “This isn’t just anyone, Abs. That man doesn’t forgive betrayal. Especially not that kind.”

Even Mel, who didn’t get involved in much that wasn’t medical, told her quietly, “Be careful. You’re not invincible. And she’s not safe if he finds out either.”

But Abby didn’t care.

Because when she was with you—sitting in the quiet, helping you with chores, holding your hand when you cried and swearing you’d never be alone again—everything made sense. She’d never been more certain of anything in her life.

She started staying over longer. Whispered to you in the dark that you deserved better. That you didn’t have to pretend anymore. She kissed you once, soft and trembling, and pulled away like she’d committed a sin.

But you kissed her back.

That night you cried in her arms, telling her how lonely you’d been, how scared. And Abby swore she’d protect you, even if it meant going against the man who raised her like a soldier.

She started making plans. Not rash ones—but careful, calculated ones. If she had to sneak you out of the WLF and burn every outpost behind her to make sure Isaac couldn’t find you, she would. If he came after you, she’d put him down herself.

Because she loved you. Not the kind of love that flickers in the dark. The kind that blazes—hot, protective, all-consuming. The kind that made Abby whisper into your hair late at night:

“I’d burn the whole fucking world down before I let him hurt you again.”

And she meant every word.