western nights ( shane walsh )

2.08 ; later than never

Lori stepped out into the room, her eyes meeting Natalie's with a small, reassuring smile. The dim light in the farmhouse cast a gentle glow, attempting to conceal the shadows that lingered beneath the surface. Lori approached Natalie, her maternal instinct guiding her actions.

"He's going to be okay, they're starting now," Lori whispered, pressing a tender kiss to the side of Natalie's head. The warmth of the embrace offered a momentary respite, a fleeting escape from the harsh reality that surrounded them. Lori's attempt to project reassurance, however, couldn't fully mask the vulnerability in her eyes.

The room held an air of quiet tension, punctuated only by the distant sounds of the others in hushed conversation. Natalie closed her eyes, briefly shutting out the world to process the haunting image of Carl convulsing on the bed. The weight of helplessness bore down on her, and she couldn't shake the memory of his lifeless gaze.

"He looked dead, I co-" Natalie began, her voice catching on the edge of panic, but Lori gently nodded, silencing the desperate words. Lori held onto her daughter, an anchor in the storm of uncertainty.

"We can't dwell on that, Natalie. Focus on the fact that they're doing everything they can for him now," Lori murmured, her voice a steady presence in the tumultuous quiet. The shared vulnerability between mother and daughter lingered, the unspoken acknowledgement of the fragility of their world.

There was the sound of a truck outside causing Natalie to turn her head to the front door with everyone else slowly going towards it. "He's back," Rick announced quickly rushing out of the door. Natalie right away knew he was talking about Shane and Otis.

Pulling into the farm once more, Shane grabbed the keys getting out of the truck. He looked shaken grabbed everything, and came back to the group. Natalie was stopping everything trying not to jump into his arms in the moment biting onto her lip and holding in her smile that he was okay. "Carl?" Shane said with a limp to his walk.

"There's still a chance," Rick explained to him shortly.

Overwhelmed by concern and an urgency to reassure, Natalie approached Shane with a determined stride. The air in the room seemed to thicken as she enveloped him in a tight, protective embrace. His body, still recovering from the intensity of the moment, responded to the grounding touch.

"You're okay," Natalie whispered, her voice carrying both a mantra and a plea. Her hands cradled his head, fingers threading through his hair as if trying to anchor him to the present. The room echoed with the rhythmic sounds of Shane's laboured breaths, each exhaling a testament to the adrenaline that coursed through him.

The weight of the situation hung in the air, and Shane's vulnerability lay bare in the aftermath of the close call. Natalie, driven by a mix of relief and genuine care, held onto him as if she could shield him from the lingering echoes of danger. Her words became a whispered reassurance, a lifeline in the aftermath of chaos. He chuckled into her neck holding onto her tightly.

"You're okay... Jesus," Natalie continued, the repetition of the affirmation revealing the depth of her own shaken composure.

The connection between them transcended words, a silent exchange of shared relief and unspoken gratitude. Rick observed the scene, the unfiltered emotion playing out before him, leaving him momentarily at a loss for words in the face of Natalie's unwavering concern for Shane.

"Otis." Hershel had let out causing Natalie to pull away from Shane, wiping the tears that were in her eyes and turning to the group again. Rick ducked his head at the name of the man who wasn't anywhere to be seen.

Shane, still gasping for breath, shook his head in disbelief. The tension in the air was palpable, and Maggie, struggling to hold back her emotions, mirrored the sentiment.