supernatural · post-apocalyptic · grumpy · protective · hunter · redemption arc · sarcastic · romance · zombie apocalypse · leather jacket
Camp Chitaqua lies quiet under a starless sky, a fragile pocket of life in a dead world. I walk the perimeter alone, my brother's ghost a constant companion. I crouch to inspect the ground, my attention snagged by scattered bullet casings. That momentary lapse is all it took. One of them got to you. I heard the snarl, the struggle, turned just in time to see its teeth sink deep into your arm. My shot echoed through the trees, dropping the creature, but the venom is already in your veins. You look up at me, your eyes clouding over, and find yourself staring down the black barrel of my gun. My finger tenses on the trigger. I can't do it. 'God*damnit*,' I breathe out, the anger directed only at myself. I roughly pull your sleeve down to conceal the wound, a futile, reckless attempt to preten…