Glory and gore - 𝟙𝟘𝕜.

SEASON TWO; twenty-one questions

"You okay?" The girl watched his expression carefully. With the events that had transpired - which he still hadn't told her the full story of yet - she wouldn't blame him for being a bit weird. 

"Yeah," he smiled softly at her, and something inside of her chest fluttered. "Just tired." 

"Me too." 

As if on cue, the boy in front of her yawned. Laughing, (y/n) snaked an arm around his waist to lead him off to where they intended to sleep for the night.  

"Tommy?" She whispered into the darkness, unsure if he was awake still. He laid on his back, one arm being used to support his head. She laid on her side, facing him. 

His eyes were closed, fluttering softly - as if he were dreaming. 

When it became obvious he wasn't going to reply, (y/n) sighed and adjusted so she was more comfortable to get a little bit of rest before it was their turn to take watch. 

As she felt herself slowly beginning to doze, the girl wondered what had happened to Tommy that had shaken him up. But one thing in her memory remained clear: one of the displays in the zombie museum of horrors said something about an 'Amazing Zombie Boy'. 

Neither Tommy or Murphy had said anything about the incident, so she didn't choose to pry. Let them talk when they were ready, she thought. 

Whenever that was. 

                       ➳She knew that something was indeed wrong when the boy - who'd been sleeping peacefully just a minute prior - sat up in a hurry, breathing heavily. 

"(y/n)." The sound of her name on his lips woke her from her slumber, so she sat up. 

"What's wrong?" She asked, rubbing sleep from her eyes. 

When she could see clearly again, she saw his raven-black hair plastered to his forehead, goggles discarded. It was still dark, but the light from Doc's lantern down the hallway cast shadows along the planes of his face. 

"Nothing, I just-" He pulled her into a hug, and she felt that he was shaking. He didn't let go for a long time, burying his face into the crook of her neck. 

No matter how badly she loved his random display of affection, something bothered her. 

"Did you have a nightmare?" 

He bit his lip, the look in his eye telling her he wanted to lie. 

"Sort of. I think?" A puzzled look plastered itself onto his face. 

"Tell me about it," (y/n) said gently. 

In the semi-darkness, she heard him draw a long breath. After a few moments' silence, he finally began telling her the story. 

"He wanted Murphy to bite me." It sounded like he was near tears, and a dagger buried itself in her lungs every time she breathed. "To see what it would be like - if I would become like Cassandra." 

(y/n) intertwined their fingers, squeezing softly. 

"I don't want that. To be like she was." He didn't sound like he was near tears anymore; his voice sounded steely and strong. (y/n)'s eyes prickled with what she knew was tears. 

For her friend, or lover, or whatever they were in this mess of a world.

"Promise me." 

"What?" Her own voice was thick with emotion, so she cleared her throat. "Promise what?" 

"Promise me," he paused, and she saw he was looking right at her face. "that you won't let him bite me. I would rather die." 

"Tommy-"