𝙵𝙻𝙴𝚂𝙷 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙱𝙾𝙽𝙴 | 𝚃. 𝙾𝚃𝚃𝙾 𐂃

- Troy & Cristine

"What are you thinking doc?"

Cristine grimaced when Troy called her that. It was hard to determine from their vantage point, but she saw signals that suggested she already had her advice ready. She looked at Troy on her right. "It's been a while since I've seen a horde."

"It's still not as big as the one we were played possum in." Troy reminisced with one of his bizarre smirks.

"Don't remind me." Cristine rolled her eyes and pushed her back into the rocks again. "Something. Somewhere probably attracted the smaller groups like mosquitoes drawn to a light."

"Your hive mind theory, right?" Troy added, already knowing the answer from the back of his head like with all the research. "One or two become aggressive or distracted by something and it travels to the rest like a chain reaction." He commented in a crisp voice and his mind traveled back to all the knowledge they gained just from going out and testing. It was worthwhile. Troy documented all his field tests, but with the Nation he kind of missed it.

Cristine cut in, wanting to wrap this conversation and lightly pushed at his arm to go back some more just in case, "let's just wait it out like you said," she whispered.

"The militia is trained for this." Troy wasn't as anxious as his companion, who chewed on her lip with her eyes on the slow traffic jam of the dead. She didn't react and Troy sighed, "Everyone back home is safe."

"Nowhere is safe." Cristine didn't mean for her whisper to come out as harshly as it did and Troy tilted his head, surprised by the ferocity of her response. Pinching the bridge of her nose, Cristine looked in space before apologizing, "sorry, it's not you. I've just been thinking about them. How they even slaughtered Gretchen... it made me think of Hailey." The moment Cristine finished that last sentence, she breathed out and felt sick of the idea of losing her sister in any way, shape or form.

"Hailey's alive," Troy stated the obvious, watching with a wary scrutiny as Cristine's mouth fell slack, but the rest of her features went taut. Troy lined the outline of his holster absently and repeated. "She's alive and she'll stay that way cause she's safe... with walls, a militia and her family." He assured the woman and shifted on his feet and scooted over as much as the narrows space of the flanking rocks allowed him to and kicked at touched her arm. His grip just right and a silent beckon. "And those assholes will pay, alright?"

Cristine shut her eyes, thinking of the right words she wanted to say and decided to just say it, "for what it's worth, I'm glad you didn't go after them that night." Cristine thought she saw Troy tense and knew this subject was delicate and he'd been purposely avoiding it. "I get if you don't want to talk about it and we won't. I'm just saying that I'm glad they didn't get you too." Her voice was steady, but the trace of relief that Troy detected through that facade of a strong exterior surprised Troy. More than he could put in words or realize that she was walking around with these thoughts.... That she actually worried about him. Troy's grip around her arm faltered and he got really quiet.