"𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒔 𝒊 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘

－𝑩𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝑶𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆 －

The afternoon sun bathed Lottie and Beth in gold, its warmth sinking into their skin. Beth worked steadily, scrubbing clothes against the washboard, while Lottie shifted and stretched, twisting into endless positions to catch the perfect light. She arched her back, stretched out her legs, turned one way, then another, chasing a tan she never quite seemed to get.

Beth glanced over, shaking her head. "You do this every time. A hundred different poses, and you always end up sunburned, not tan."

Lottie huffed, adjusting her position again. "Bethy, I'm never red—it's just part of the process. You have to burn a little before you glow."

"Mhm," Beth murmured, unconvinced, as she wrung out a shirt.

Lottie only smiled, reaching for the radio and turning the volume up. A familiar tune drifted through the warm air, and she sang along under her breath, "Young as I want to know, I'll never let you go."

The song tugged at something deep inside her, unraveling memories like ribbons. She could almost see it—Jackie belting out the lyrics in front of the mirror, Shauna laughing at her dramatic performance while Natalie lined her eyes with dark kohl. Mari snapping pictures, forever trying to capture the perfect shot. The rush of getting ready for a party, or even just for practice, when life was simpler, sweeter.

Before the world rotted.

Before survival became a battle, before her worries turned from grades and crushes to blood and hunger and the empty ache of missing people she might never see again. She thought of Mari and the ridiculous schemes they used to come up with, plotting revenge on Mari's ex for breaking her heart. They had been just girls then—untouchable, reckless, alive.

Now, every night, before she closed her eyes, she whispered the same quiet prayer:

"Please, let them live. Let them live, not just survive."

"Lott." Beth's voice pulled her back. A gentle nudge against her arm.

"You okay?"

Lottie blinked, nodding quickly. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

Beth gave her a look but didn't push. Instead, she gestured toward the laundry. "You should probably get up and help before Dad sees you lying there. You know he's gonna start complaining."

Lottie sighed, sitting up with a stretch. "Yeah, you're right. If he catches me, he'll probably lock me in the darkest room in the house just so I never tan again."

Beth smiled, shaking her head, and Lottie turned the music down just a little before finally getting to work.

The rhythm of their work was steady—Beth scrubbing, Lottie hanging clothes to dry, the warm breeze carrying the scent of soap and sun-warmed fabric.

Then Beth suddenly stilled, her hands frozen mid-motion. She lifted her head, her brow furrowed.

"You hear that?"

Lottie barely looked up. "What? Those annoying bugs? Yeah." She smirked, shaking out a damp sheet.

Beth shot her a look. "No, not bugs. And they're not annoying." She stood, glancing around, her shoulders tense.

Something about the way Beth looked at her made Lottie pause. With a sigh, she turned down the radio and got to her feet, scanning the tree line. The world around them seemed the same—wind rustling through the leaves, the occasional chirp, the hum of summer—but Beth's unease was contagious.

"Lott, I swear, I heard something," Beth murmured.

Lottie exhaled, rolling her eyes. "Bethy, I think you imagined it." She was already lowering herself back down when—

A noise.

Not the wind. Not birds.

Footsteps, fast and uneven. A voice, rough and panicked.

Someone was running. Someone was yelling.

Lottie's body went rigid. She turned sharply, eyes locking on the figure breaking through the trees. A man, moving fast, carrying something—someone. She couldn't see who, only that it wasn't a walker. The shape in his arms was too still. Too human.

"Beth."

Beth didn't respond, still trying to make sense of what was happening.

Lottie's chest tightened. She grabbed Beth's arm, voice sharp. "Beth!"

Beth's head snapped toward her."Go get Dad."

Beth hesitated only a second before nodding, then took off running toward the house.

Lottie turned back to the man, her heart hammering as he staggered closer. Now she could see—he was holding a boy. Not quite a child, not yet a teenager. Maybe nine, maybe twelve.

He looked limp.

Lottie's stomach dropped.

"HEY!" she shouted, breaking into a run.

The man kept moving, his steps urgent, kicking up dust as he ran. Lottie barely had time to react before the front door groaned open, her father stepping out first, shoulders squared, eyes sharp. The rest of the household followed—Maggie, Patricia, Beth—all of them tense, waiting.

Her father's voice came fast, clipped. "Was he bit?"

The question hit the air like a warning.

The man didn't slow. "Shot," he bit out, adjusting the boy in his arms. "By one of your men."

Shot.

Lottie's stomach twisted, but something else stuck in her mind, something absurd in the middle of all this.

The uniform.

The sheriff's uniform.

Like the world hadn't ended. Like it hadn't burned down around them. Had he not gotten the message? No one needed a sheriff anymore. No one needed badges or laws or anything like that. The dead walked, and people fought for scraps, and here he was, still dressed like the world was the same.

But there wasn't time to think about it. The kid was bleeding.

Her father was already moving. "Maggie—painkillers, coagulants. Grab everything. Clean towels, sheets, alcohol. Now. Pillowcase, too."

Maggie nodded once before vanishing inside.

Lottie stood still, watching it unfold. Her father pressing down on the wound, Patricia reaching for supplies, the sheriff swaying on his feet, looking more and more like a man coming apart.

And Lottie—Lottie didn't know what to do.

She wasn't like her father, hands steady, always knowing what came next. She wasn't like Patricia or Maggie, who had something to offer in moments like this. She wasn't even like Beth, who had that way of making people feel safe just by being there.

She was just standing here, taking up space.

Her throat felt tight. She forced herself to move.

Stepping forward, she spoke gently, almost careful. "He's gonna be okay."

The sheriff barely looked at her. His eyes stayed on the boy.

Lottie hesitated. "My dad—he..." She trailed off. He wasn't a doctor. He was a vet. But she knew better than to say that now.

"He's the best doctor I know," she said instead, offering a small, steady smile.

Her father didn't look up, his hands moving fast, pressing down on the boy's wound, eyes scanning every detail like he was already calculating what needed to be done. Everyone had fallen into motion around him—Patricia moving supplies closer, Maggie returning with towels and bottles of whatever she could find. The air in the room felt tight, filled with the metallic scent of blood and the weight of urgency.

Lottie shifted on her feet, fingers curling at her sides. There was nothing she could do here.

So she swallowed, forcing her voice to sound even. "Dad, if you need anything... I'm in my room."

She wasn't sure if he even heard her.

The sheriff only gave a short nod, his jaw tight.

That was all she could offer.Lottie exhaled softly, then turned toward Beth, nudging her lightly. "Come on, Beth," she said, her voice quieter now. "Let's go upstairs."

Beth hesitated, blue eyes flickering between Lottie and the scene in front of them, but then she nodded, following as Lottie led the way out of the room.

As soon as they reached the stairs, the tension in Lottie's chest loosened just a little. The sounds of hushed voices and hurried movements still carried through the walls, but at least up here, she could breathe.

When they reached her room, she pushed the door open, stepping inside and letting the familiar space settle around her.

The door cracked open, and Lottie barely lifted her head from where she was lying on the bed, her limbs curled out. Maggie stood in the doorway, arms crossed.

"Otis is going out with Shane," she said flatly.

Lottie blinked at her, frowning. "Who's Shawn?"

Maggie exhaled sharply, barely holding onto her patience. "Shane. He's Rick's friend."

Lottie sat up now, brushing her hair out of her face. She wasn't sure why Maggie was telling her this, but before she could ask, Maggie added, "And I'm going to bring his wife here."

Lottie looked at her like she had just fallen from the moon. "Why?"

Maggie adjusted her stance, like she was already getting ready to leave. "Because he's barely keeping it together, and she needs to be here."

Lottie scoffed, shaking her head. "Maggie, that guy looks like he's about to lose his mind any second."

Maggie only shrugged, her expression unreadable. "Yeah, well."

"Poor man," Lottie muttered, more to herself than anyone, as she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up. She followed Maggie downstairs, the wooden steps creaking under their feet, stepping out into the warm, dimming light of the evening.

Lottie stepped outside, the fading light casting long shadows across the yard. She spotted Otis standing with Shane, the new man, his stiff posture clearly showing his unease.

"Otis!" Lottie yelled, running toward him with a mixed expression on her face.

She wrapped her arms around him tightly, her breath catching for a moment before she whispered, "Be careful."

She pulled away, turning to face Shane. "Hey, I'm Lottie Greene, nice to meet you."

Shane nodded silently, his eyes scanning her for a moment before he muttered, "Shane Walsh."

"Cool," Lottie said casually, offering him a smile before turning back to Maggie, who was already preparing to mount a horse.

"Hey, Mag, be careful, alright?" Lottie called out as she walked up. She looked up at Maggie, her concern clear in her eyes.

Maggie gave her a reassuring smile. "I will, relax."

"Yeah, you better," Lottie teased, her smile still soft. "Or I'll kill you."

Maggie laughed, giving her a quick wink before she mounted the horse. "Love you. Be careful."

"Yeah, love you too." Lottie smiled back, waving as Maggie rode off to find Lori.

As Lottie watched Maggie disappear into the distance, she didn't know that this moment would change everything. Her view of the world, her personality, her hopes—everything. It would be this moment that would push her to pray day and night, asking God not to let her become like the others, to not bite and make others bleed.

She hoped it would be her, the one in pain, but not them. She wanted to be the one to suffer, not them. But she was just a person, just a girl—foolish, naïve.

She realized it too late, but maybe she should have listened to him.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞:
Ok wow the first chapter is out I'm very exciting we still didn't meet Daryl and Lottie wasn't much in the Center but wait until next chapters

Yeah I don't know what I thought of this chapter and as you see it's very Yellowjackets because im obsessed so yeah

If you want me to write something specific them write it in the comments

My TikTok account is lucy.xyz10 there will be edits about the story

Please comment and vote love <3