"𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒊 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒊
𝑾𝒐𝒌𝒆 𝒖𝒑 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒅
𝑩𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒊𝒔 𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒆"

𝑭𝒍𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆 & 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑴𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒆

The night had settled thick and heavy, the kind that wrapped around the farm in a hush, save for the occasional rustle of wind through the trees. Maggie had returned with Lori, but there was still no sign of Shane or Otis. The absence lingered like an unspoken worry, stretching longer with every passing hour.

Lottie didn't know what to do with herself. The waiting made her restless, made her feel like something was crawling under her skin. She pushed herself up from the bed, reaching for a jacket to slip over her white dress. The fabric had never been meant for warmth.

She stepped into the hall, her voice light, almost singsong. "Maggieee."

The door creaked open, and she nearly ran into two men standing on the porch. They were unfamiliar, their presence cutting through the routine of the farm like a misplaced piece in a puzzle. One was young, not much older than Maggie, with dark eyes that darted uncertainly between her and the ground. The other was taller, broader, his arm wrapped in bloodied bandages, exhaustion hanging off him like an extra weight.

Lottie blinked before offering a bright, easy smile. "Oh, um, hey. My name's Lottie Greene. What's yours?"

The two men exchanged a glance before the younger one spoke first. "Oh, uh—hi. I'm Glenn Rhee, and this is T-Dog."

Lottie shot a look at Maggie, who exhaled and motioned toward the house. "Come inside. I'll make you something to eat."

Lottie followed them, tilting her head slightly. "They with Rick's group?"

Maggie nodded, leading them in. The moment they stepped inside, the weight of the house settled over them—thick, tense, humming with quiet grief. The Grimes family sat huddled near the boy, Carl, who clung to life with every shallow breath. His face was pale, sweat glistening at his hairline. His father, Rick, looked like he hadn't breathed properly since the moment his son had gone down.

Glenn, hesitant but firm, greeted him. "Hi."

Rick barely glanced at him, his voice rough, drained. "Hi."

Glenn shifted on his feet. "We're here, okay?"

This time, it was Lori who answered. "Thank you."

"Whatever you need," T-Dog added.

Lottie watched them carefully, noting the exhaustion pooling under Rick's eyes, the tightness in Lori's expression. They needed space. She tipped her head toward Glenn and T-Dog, silently motioning for them to step out of the room.

They moved to another part of the house, where Patricia busied herself tending to T-Dog's injured arm. He winced as she worked, his jaw tight with pain.

"You got here just in time. This couldn't go untreated much longer," Patricia murmured, focused. Then, after a pause, she asked, "Merle Dixon—he your friend? The one with the antibiotics?"

"No, ma'am. Merle's no longer with us." Glenn rubbed the back of his neck, glancing briefly at T-Dog before clarifying, "Daryl gave us those. His brother."

Lottie studied Glenn properly then, not just looking at him, but seeing him. He was close in age to Maggie, probably closer to her than herself, but there was something in his face—something kind. She wondered if they could be friends.

"What happened to him?" she asked, her curiosity slipping through.

Glenn hesitated. "It's a long story. Maybe I'll tell you sometime."

She nodded, accepting the answer, then turned toward T-Dog, who groaned as Patricia tightened the bandages.

"Not sure I'd call Merle a friend," T-Dog muttered, his face twisting with discomfort.

"He is today," Patricia said simply. "That doxycycline might have just saved your life." She paused. "You know what Merle was taking it for?"

"The clap,"Glenn said without thinking, only realizing too late the way everyone turned to look at him.

Lottie let out a short snort, covering her mouth as she fought back laughter.

Glenn cleared his throat, backtracking. "Uh, venereal disease. That's what Daryl said."

Patricia smirked. "I'd say Merle Dixon's clap was the best thing to ever happen to you."

T-Dog groaned again, shaking his head. "I'm really trying not to think about that." He shifted, clearly trying to find a position that made the pain more bearable.

Lottie took a small step forward, reaching out to touch his shoulder lightly, her fingers barely grazing the fabric of his shirt. "Everything's gonna be okay," she said softly. "You want some water?"

T-Dog exhaled, nodding. "Yeah. That'd be nice."

She gave him a reassuring smile. "Alright. Wait here—I'll bring you a glass."

As she turned toward the kitchen, she could still hear the murmurs of conversation behind her, the quiet buzz of new faces settling into the Greene household. For now, it was peaceful. But somewhere out there, Otis and Shane were still missing. And the night was far from over.

Lottie set the glass of water in front of T-Dog, then sat down across from him, tucking her legs up onto the chair. She pulled her jacket closer around her, feeling the weight of the late hour settling in her limbs.

T-Dog took a slow sip, setting the glass down with a small sigh. The house was quiet now, the weight of the day pressing down on everyone.

Lottie let her fingers trace along the edge of the table. "You're from Atlanta, right?"

T-Dog glanced at her, nodding. "Yeah."

She hummed, resting her chin on her knee. "Big city. I only ever went there a few times. Always felt too busy for me."

"Yeah, I get that," he said, rolling his shoulder. "I lived there, but I wouldn't say I was part of it, y'know? Just got used to it."

Lottie smiled faintly. "You don't seem like a city person."

T-Dog huffed a quiet laugh. "What do I seem like, then?"

She studied him for a second. "I dunno... solid. Steady."

He raised an eyebrow. "Solid?״

"Yeah." She let out a slow breath. "Like... you're the kind of person people count on. You wouldn't leave someone behind."

Something flickered in his expression, but he didn't say anything for a moment. Then, he exhaled. "Yeah. I try not to."

Lottie nodded, eyelids heavy. "That's a good way to be."

They sat in silence for a moment, the air warm and quiet."What about you?" T-Dog asked. "Where're you from?"

Lottie blinked slowly. "Little town. Nothing special. Just a place with churches and fields and people who talk too much."

He smirked. "Sounds like the South.""Yeah." She sighed. "I used to cheer. Did all the school stuff. Knew everyone."

T-Dog tilted his head. "You miss it?"

Lottie hesitated, then gave a small shrug. "I miss how easy it was. Not the place, but... the feeling. Like, I thought things were hard back then." She let out a breathy laugh. "I was dumb."

"Nah," T-Dog said. "You were just livin' life. No way to know what was comin'."

Lottie smiled sleepily. "Guess not."

The quiet stretched between them again. It wasn't uncomfortable, just soft. Like they both knew they didn't need to fill it.

After a while, T-Dog stretched his arms out. "You should get some sleep."

Lottie hummed. "Yeah... yeah, I should."

She didn't move yet, though, letting the quiet settle just a little longer.

Lottie was halfway up the stairs when she heard the sound of a car pulling up outside. She froze, listening, then rushed to the door, excitement bubbling up in her chest.

Otis.

She ran outside, expecting to see him—expecting to ask him about the school, about what it looked like now. Were the halls empty? Did it still smell the same? Had the dead taken over completely?

But when she reached the porch, her breath caught in her throat.

Only Shane stepped out of the vehicle.

His chest rose and fell in frantic, uneven breaths. Sweat glistened on his skin. His hands twitched at his sides, his eyes darting around like he was searching for something—or trying to escape something he couldn't outrun.

Hershel stepped forward. "Otis?"

Shane looked at him, looked around, like the answer might be written somewhere in the dirt. He looked lost. Not just in the moment, but in himself. Like his soul had been buried somewhere deep, covered in layers of something no one could quite see.

Maybe if you dug enough, you'd find it. Or maybe you'd only find more dirt, more lies, more weight pressing down until there was nothing left.

Finally, he answered.

"No."

A single word, but it rang louder than anything else that had been said all night.

Lottie felt it sink in her stomach like a stone. Her heart clenched. Her excitement shattered into something sharp and hollow.

Hershel inhaled slowly through his nose. "We say nothing to Patricia. Not until after. I need her."

Lottie's jaw tightened. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair for Patricia to be left in the dark while everyone else carried the truth. But at the same time, she understood. A person could only take so much grief before it crushed them.

She turned her head slightly, looking for Beth—just in time to see her sister's face crumple. Her lip trembled, her eyes already glassy.

Lottie stepped forward without thinking, wrapping her arms around Beth and pulling her close.

"C'mon," she murmured. "Let's go."

Beth nodded weakly, letting Lottie guide her inside, up the stairs, to the quiet safety of her room.Lottie all but collapsed onto the bed, groaning as she stretched out across it. Beth sat carefully beside her, her posture tight, her hands twisting in her lap. The silence stretched for a moment before Beth finally spoke, her voice small and cracked.

"It's not fair," she whispered. "All the good people are dying."

Lottie exhaled, staring up at the ceiling.

"Blood is blood," she murmured. "And what's done is done. We can't possibly change it."

She turned her head, watching Beth's profile in the dim light.

"If I could," she continued, softer now, "I'd bring them all back. Mom, Shawn, Otis... I miss them every day." A deep breath. "But we can't keep taking the burden, Bethy. We can't let grief swallow us whole. If we do, we'll be the next to go. And I don't want that. I don't want us to die."

Beth blinked quickly, but the tears still slipped down her cheeks."I know," she whispered. "But I miss them so much. God, I miss them."

Her voice broke, and more tears followed.

Lottie sat up, pulling Beth into another hug, her fingers running soothingly through her hair.

"Shh," she murmured. "You need to sleep."Beth sniffled, tucking her head against Lottie's shoulder.

Lottie held her a moment longer, then slowly helped her lie down, pulling the blankets up over her.

She stayed there until Beth's breathing evened out, until the quiet of the room settled over them both.

Then, finally, she slipped out and headed to her own room.

The moment she reached her bed, she starts to get ready for bed and one minute before going into the bed.

she lowers herself to her knees, hands folding beneath the wooden cross above her head.

"Please, God... let my friends live, not just survive. And the sick—the ones I love—bring them back to how they used to be. Please. Amen."

She exhaled, letting the silence take her words, carry them somewhere unseen.

Then she climbed into bed, pulling the sheets tight around her shoulders, and let sleep take her.

★𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄:
So this is the second chapter next chapter we are meeting Daryl finalyyyy and should I make the chapters longer ?