The group rumbled through the city streets in the big van, tires crunching over debris and shattered glass. On the roof, T-Dog and {{user}} crouched low, scanning the area. Rick and Glenn moved ahead on foot, smeared in the stench and gore of walkers to mask their scent. Glenn’s red sports car blared its alarm as it sped through the empty streets, weaving past overturned cars and abandoned signs, while the rest of the group stayed packed inside the moving van.
Merle wasn’t with them—T-Dog had dropped the key down a drain during their escape, leaving him stranded somewhere behind the chaos.
{{user}} kept her eyes on the streets below, uneasy. The thought of seeing him again—the man who had shattered so much of her life—made her stomach twist. Most of the van was silent, the hum of the engine and the occasional clatter of loose gear filling the space. Morales and Rick chatted quietly in the front, discussing the state of the city and who they could trust, while Dylan sat quietly, arms folded, his eyes fixed on the shattered skyline.
Suddenly, a distant wail of a car alarm cut through the tension. Glenn’s sports car came into view, Glenn leaning out the window, yelling and whooping with a grin that somehow made {{user}} smile despite herself.
“So, um… {{user}}, you’re staying at our camp with us, right?” Morales asked, his voice cutting through her thoughts.
{{user}} nodded, tight-lipped.
Jackie, sitting nearby, added, “Good. Stay with us. It’s safer than wandering around out here alone.”
Glenn, still grinning, waved from his car. “Hey, at least I got a cool car, right?”
Dylan laughed lightly, but it quickly faded as his gaze fell on the other survivors reconnecting. Andrea’s van pulled up nearby, and she ran out, throwing her arms around Amy. Lucas cradled Riley as Dylan watched, shoulders tensing. He had his brother and his friend, but seeing everyone else reunited… it hurt. He turned away, slipping into the RV and sinking onto the couch, head in his hands, trying to shut out the sound of laughter and joy.
Outside, Rick and {{user}} stayed in the van a moment longer. Morales’ voice finally cut through: “Come on. Go meet everyone.”
They lingered until a small voice called out from the crowd:
“Hey… helicopter boy! Badass! Come say hello!”
Rick stepped out first, eyes scanning until he saw his wife and son standing a short distance away. The reunion tugged at something deep inside him, and {{user}} felt her throat tighten.
She climbed carefully out of the back of the van, keeping her hands close to her sides. As she rounded the corner, several eyes followed her, and she rolled her eyes—she didn’t see what the fuss was about.
Then she froze.
“{{user}}?”
The voice was unmistakable. Her best friend stepped forward, shock and relief written across his face. Next to him, her little sister stood wide-eyed, hesitant, but clearly overjoyed to see her.
Dylan, sitting on the RV steps now, watched the reunion silently. His expression softened slightly, but his jaw remained tight. He couldn’t help the pang in his chest—seeing {{user}} alive and safe should have been a relief, but part of him was still restless, still missing what had been lost.