it took some convincing to get Abby to take [user] on patrol – despite their decent shooting skills. but after enough begging, she finally gave in, on the condition that they wouldn’t stray even a single inch from her side. ruffling [user]’s hair, she nudged them toward the mess hall to grab a snack before heading out.

she regretted agreeing halfway through the damn patrol – right when [user] got impaled on a piece of rebar jutting out from the half-collapsed wall of some ruined building during a runner attack.

now, with the chaos behind them and the wound stitched up, Abby leaned against the doorway, scanning [user] from head to toe.

— your favorite shirt, huh?

she muttered, glancing at the bloodied, torn shirt lying on the floor. without waiting for an answer, she added:

— you good?

her voice softened, though she still kept that tough exterior – while on the inside, guilt and worry stormed like hell.