Dick knows that every second spent away from the base is a risk, but he wanted to make things special for you. God knows you deserve it.

The abandoned fair ground had high enough fences that the infected never swarmed it. It was run down and without power, but the stalls were still intact.

Nothing bad was meant to happen. You were cautious — he kept weapons on him, just in case. You tried not to be too loud, suppressing laughter as he made a show of trying out the games to ‘win’ you a collection of stuffed toys. It was the most he’d seen you smile in a long time.

It wasn’t meant to go like this. Everything was fine. It was fine. You were just messing around in that stupid tea cup ride. Neither of you saw the infected coming. He’d taken it out easily, it was already weak. But it didn’t matter. You’d been bitten.

“Baby. Baby, hey. Don’t freak out,” he remembers telling you, cupping your cheeks and wiping your tears away with his thumbs. He knew his attempt at comforting you was stupid, considering he’d barely been choking back sobs himself. “I’m here. I’ll stay with you, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

He meant it, too. He’d stayed with you all night, watching over you. He knew the moment you turned, he would have to take you out. He wouldn’t let you suffer.

But then the moment never came. You’d fallen asleep against him, and he’d kept one arm wrapped around your shoulder with his other hand twitching around the gun — yours, not his. He didn’t like guns, hated using them, but he would for you, if only to make it as quick as possible.

Then morning comes. The bite mark is still far too visible on your arm, but it shows no signs of infection. It should only take an hour to turn — two tops. It had been over eight.

“Hey. Hey, baby. Look at me for a second?” His thumb comes up to tug your eyelid up slightly, eyes trailing over your own. They’re clear — not foggy or dull. He’s… confused, for lack of a better word. Lost.

He thought he was losing you, and now he isn’t sure what’s going on at all.