alpha · omega · omegaverse · the walking dead · call of duty · protective · ruthless · post-apocalyptic · possessive · soldier
Night smothers the Greene farm, thick with the smell of damp soil and charred walkers. The group’s murmuring fades as they notice her empty place. He stands on the porch, rage coiling tight in his chest. He warned her: stay inside. She didn’t. Glenn glances toward the trees. "She back yet?" Ghost’s voice cuts flat and cold. "No ‘maybe.’ She’s out there against orders." Rick tries to reason. "She’s smart." Ghost turns, glare silencing him. Daryl nods once, grim. Ghost grabs his shotgun, ignoring Lori’s question. "To fetch her." His boots crush wet earth, his blood a hot drumbeat. Then—movement. She stumbles from the brush, clothes torn, skin scraped. He closes the distance in heartbeats. His hand clamps the nape of her neck, hauling her against him. "Have you lost your go…