HEART OF GLASS
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE !

[ season three, episode five ]

Theo's brain was in shambles. The Governor was hosting a party ─ a bundle of festivities to celebrate Woodbury's success at survival. There were cold drinks, colourful banners, soft music, and food. A golden Labrador was chasing a young girl around the small patches of grass in front of the houses that were pressed together on the front street. She was giggling excitedly, and the pink ribbon strapped around her ponytail fluttered delicately in the wind. Her mother was watching contentedly from the sidewalk, almost as if nothing else mattered in the world. As if the dead weren't lumbering around behind the walls; as if they didn't even exist.

It felt wrong. Wrong and plain stupid. The Governor was indulging everyone ─ his own people ─ with his idyllic, unrealistic perception of the world, a place where you didn't have to worry about where your next meal would come from, or whether you'd make it throughout the week without being ripped to pieces.

No, these people were worried about different things. About the party games, about the temperature of their chilled Kool Aid, about the hyperactive children scraping their knees on the sidewalk if they ran too fast. About everything other than what lay beyond the curtain of metal shielding Woodbury.

It was stupid. It was naive hope. It was not real.

It was the old world, brought to simmer beneath the spotlight again.

Theo wanted nothing more than to bury himself beneath the ground. He found himself alone amidst the chaos. Andrea had wandered off somewhere with the Governor, and an MIA Michonne was probably snooping around in places that she shouldn't be. Not that it mattered ─ they were only staying in Woodbury for another day or two, abiding by Andrea's wishes. Andrea said she wanted to scope it out first, see what all the fuss was about. She liked the civilisation, the diversity, the safety. Theo was sure she also liked the Governor, and his flirtatious attitude was bound to have had something to do with the woman's unprecedented determination to stay just a little while longer.

Gross.

A temporary setback.

Andrea was blinded by his charm. The Governor was nothing but a liar. And he was definitely hiding something. Those bullet holes spoke the truth ─ the side of the National Guard tank had become a target for bullets at some point, and there was no other viable explanation for it other than an attack. Last time Theo checked, walkers were incapable of wielding guns. They were incapable of killing in malice, only in necessity to keep themselves alive. Surely, a squadron of military personnel could take down a small herd with the weapons and the vehicles they supposedly possessed at the time of their untimely deaths. The Governor even brought concrete evidence to the gates. Said they died heroically. Said they were ambushed by the biters. But what if the National Guard were taken by surprise, betrayed by something else. . .

Only humans could do that.

Only the Governor.

He was so difficult to pick apart. Usually, Theo was good at that ─ reading people. But the Governor was a closed book, hiding behind a well-manicured facade. The people within the community didn't even call him by his real name, for God's sake. It was almost as if he had two split personalities: one for display, one behind closed doors. The Governor was the mouthpiece, the figurine, Woodbury's God. Philip was his true self, the person he warped into around close confidants, around his militia, or the person he saw staring back when he looked at his own reflection.

Something like that.

Theo couldn't be too sure. He had read people in the past and been proven entirely wrong about them before. It could be the same scenario with the Governor. Maybe he was telling the truth.

Maybe he wasn't.

Theo decided to settle with the latter. Always assume the worst about people: that way, they have no reason to hurt you. And if that made him a pessimist, so what.

"Hey, Theo."

The boy almost jumped out of his skin. Someone had approached him in his moment of deep, tumultuous scrutinisation, and as a result, Theo hadn't heard the soft patter of their footsteps padding across the lawn. If it had been a walker, Theo would have had two seconds ─ if that ─ to gather his bearings and find something to lodge inside of its brain. That would've been instant vulnerability.

He couldn't lose touch with his surroundings like that again. Michonne would skin him alive if he did.

"You okay?" the person asked.

Theo peered up, shielding his eyes from the glaring sun. The figure materialised from a column of blinding golden haze, and Theo recognised it to be Ewan, the nice guy from the youth club. He was clad in khaki shorts, with a plain white shirt accompanying it.

"Oh, hey, Ewan." Theo muttered.

He sank into a plastic chair beside the table of Kool Aid. Ewan instantaneously mimicked Theo's actions, clumsily planting his backside into a second chair directly beside the former's ─ which was pinker than a plastic flamingo. He then grabbed a cup of the Kool Aid from the table and sighed dramatically.

"So . . ." Ewan blurted. He was already awkward, and it hadn't even been thirty seconds. "Cool party, am I right?"

Theo didn't want to put a dampen on the mood, so he just shrugged resignedly, "I guess so."

"My Mom made the pies. She was a chef Before," Ewan continued. He pointed at a short, dark haired woman on the other side of the pavement. She was milling around a small table, sipping on a cup of water, talking animatedly with another woman. "It was awesome, because she used to bring home the leftovers from her restaurant. I miss that. It's nice that we get to have something similar now. . . with the party and the pies, y'know."

No, Theo didn't know.

His parents weren't even remotely similar to Ewan's ─ there was nothing he missed from his past, nothing that made him nostalgic in such a pivotal sense. His mother died when he was young and she hadn't been in his life a whole lot before her death, and his father was a grade-A asshole who spent more time getting drunk than anything else.

Unlike Ewan, Theo didn't have any pleasant memories to look back on. He didn't even know what it looked like to have a nice childhood. Everything was all broken glass and puddles of overturned beer and split knuckles. No pies or restaurant leftovers.

Any semblance of nostalgia was just juvenescence veiled in darkness.

"Yeah," Theo mumbled, his voice quiet. He didn't like to dwell on his emotions ─ on anything at all, really ─ so he cleared his throat and tried to sound more confident. "Yeah, I know what you mean."

Ewan smiled. He had a dimple in his left cheek, and the corners of his eyes creased severely, like smiling was something he did often enough that it cut so deeply, so permanently, into his flesh. It probably was. He seemed like a very content person. Nothing grieved him.

Or maybe he was just better at pretending than Theo was.

"It would be a whole lot better without that screaming baby, though," Ewan added. Something about the way he said it, strained and slow, led Theo to believe that it wasn't his typical way of thinking. That he was only joking around to impress him.

He was right, though. It would've been less overwhelming without that squealing baby. Theo's ears were practically bleeding.

"Give it some chocolate cake." he suggested meekly. "That'll keep it happy."

"That'll keep anyone happy."

Theo chuckled wryly. "Well, then it's a shame I'm not a huge fan of chocolate."

"Serious?"

"As a heart attack."

Taking the remark somewhat seriously, Ewan grasped his chest. He appeared borderline offended, shaking his head repeatedly, and threw Theo a sharp look from the corner of his eye once or twice. It was honestly quite amusing, and Theo couldn't help but laugh a little at Ewan's naivety.

"That's just plain wrong, dude." Ewan observed.

"Sorry."

After that, they lapsed into silence. It was a tad uncomfortable, but nothing too severe. The awkwardness between them was still palpable, so thick you could probably cut it with a knife, and Theo shifted in his plastic chair to try and make the lingering silence less obvious. He couldn't think of anything to say to lift it, otherwise he would have already.

Tempting as it was to run off and find Michonne, he felt like there was still more Ewan wanted to say. After all, he came to sit with him rather than spending the party in the company of someone he knew, so their conversation couldn't simply stop short at a debate over chocolate.

And it didn't.

"Can I . . . can I ask you something?" Ewan inquired out of the blue, leaning forward. He placed his hands on his knees, head dipping down, more serious than Theo had ever seen him thus far.

Theo nodded, unsure of where this was going, but curious nevertheless, "Shoot."

"What's it like when you . . ." Ewan cut himself off and cautiously glanced around at the surrounding area. There was the occasional passer-by, but none that were close enough to overhear their conversation. He looked back to Theo, and his eyes were bulging with soft intensity, "I mean ─ well, is it hard to kill those . . . things?"

That was unexpected to say the least.

Theo's forehead twitched, his brows furrowing. He felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. Not in a really bad way ─ it was more like the wind had been knocked from him, and he was struggling to regain his composure. Nobody had ever asked him something like that before. He didn't know what to say.

"Um," Theo stuttered. He couldn't meet Ewan's eyes because they were watching him so intensely to the point he felt an uncomfortable itch fester beneath his skin. "I don't really think about it. It's just something you have to do, I guess."

Ewan made a noise in the back of his throat. He was nodding in agreement, even though he basically had no experience to compare against Theo's and pull a judgement from.

"Why?" Theo pried shrinkingly.

"You never know when something bad might happen." Ewan said, gazing up at the metal walls. "And the chances are, I end up out there with the biters. I just wanna be prepared."

Theo's gaze drifted to the Governor's armed men stationed at the entrance to Woodbury. They were tasked with protecting the place, but for how long? Nothing lasted forever. He supposed that was what Ewan was worried about ─ the inevitable.

"I don't think you can ever really be prepared for it." Theo admitted. From the corner of his eye, he saw Ewan frowning. "When you're out there, it's a life or death situation. You don't consider any alternatives. You don't even think at all, actually. It's just what you have to do to live. You kill the walkers before they can kill you."

"Do you not feel guilty?"

Theo shook his head, "No, not really. But I guess there shouldn't be any guilt in surviving."

Ewan pressed his lips into a thin line and nodded, seemingly considering this approach. He played with the bottom of his shirt, discarding his red Kool Aid on the table beside him, apparently not thirsty anymore.

It was so easy to become burdened by grief, that it was difficult not to wonder when it would strike next. The walkers used to be humans, just like the rest of them. Only, they were the horrendously unlucky ones who wound up stuck in the mangled corpses of their previous selves.

Sometimes, it was kind of hard not to think about who the walkers could've been before the infection within them bloomed to the stage of irreversibility. When the knife met brain, that was it. Gone. You were, essentially, killing a person. And, yes, it was a toilsome thing to comprehend after the first few times, the fact you were responsible for ending their existence ─ and, admittedly, it did come with some semblance of guilt ─ but it was imperative in maintaining survival. Almost like a package deal: you want to live? Grow a pair, as harsh as that sounded.

For the first few months, it took Theo a long time to remember the dead weren't actually alive anymore. That they didn't feel anything. He was the hunted, and they were the predators seeking him down.

When he gained enough momentum to leap over that big hurdle of doubt, surviving became a whole lot easier.

"Have you never been over the walls before?" Theo asked, unable to stifle his curiosity.

"Not intentionally."

Awkwardly, Ewan scratched the back of his neck. He must have felt slightly disproportionate, sitting next to Theo ─ someone who had seen every bad thing the world had created ─ knowing he'd managed to grasp the better end of the stick. Knowing he was one of the lucky ones, and that could have made him seem selfish in comparison.

He couldn't make eye contact as he spoke, "My Mom and I found Woodbury in the early days. But before that, we were in a refuge centre. It was safe, but super impractical, and it didn't last very long. It was overrun by a bunch of biters in the middle of the night ─ more than half the people died. Martinez was there. He gathered up the survivors, and we all stuck together like glue. And then we came across this town, the Governor, and we made it into what it is today."

Theo nodded, his expression placid.

Honestly, Ewan's backstory was exactly what he had been expecting. Not that it was a competition, because it definitely wasn't, but his initial post-apocalypse experience wasn't hugely tragic. It was just . . . well, normal ─ stereotypically speaking. He spent the first segment of walker-world-domination in company, protected by people who knew exactly what it meant to protect. For example, Martinez wasn't weak. Theo had seen him pacing the wall yesterday, rifle in arm. He certainly looked capable of keeping a group of refuge survivors alive.

Not everybody had that. Some people were alone. Like he had been. Some people died trying.

Theo didn't want to turn his nose up and judge, but he did it anyway. He felt fear kickstart inside of him just thinking of his experience in the early days. Terror had him in a chokehold then ─ he was weak and vulnerable and naive. But he pushed through, and he hadn't needed anyone to give him a shove along the way.

And, God, wasn't he was thinking like such a prick? He internally slapped himself.

Everyone was tarnished some way or another. It didn't matter how big the stain was. Just having it was enough.

"What about you?" Ewan asked, clearing his throat. He blinked rapidly and wiped his nose, as if he was trying not to make it obvious he was on the verge of tears. But it was ─ obvious, that is.

Theo shrugged, looking at the flattened patch of grass beneath his shoes. "It's not really that interesting."

"I'm sure it is," Ewan pried. He didn't know he was treading on a halo of thin ice that was encircling a sensitive subject. "How did you end up with those two women?"

"Michonne and Andrea?"

Ewan nodded.

"Uh, by chance." Theo simply stated. He nudged the grass with the end of his shoe, watching intently as a valley of earth split beneath the pressure. Talking about Michonne and Andrea was significantly better than the other alternatives, so he relaxed a little, "I bumped into Michonne while I was raiding a store a few months after the outbreak. And then we found Andrea along the way."

"That's lucky. You all seem really close."

Did it look that way to strangers? Weird. Theo thought Michonne hated him the first time they ever talked properly, and he was absolutely convinced she was planning on killing Andrea in her sleep after a week of having her around. But it was different now, and their closeness must have been obvious enough that people took notice.

Theo pressed his lips into a thin line, nodding. "Yeah, well, you tend to grow close to people who save your life on multiple occasions."

"Multiple?" Ewan practically squeaked, horrified at the prospect.

"Oh, yeah, dude. Tin cans are the worst; they've nearly wiped me out three times now. Whatever you do, don't try and open them with your hands. "

Theo showed the boy beside him the gnarly scar cutting across the lower half of his thumb. It was thick and jagged, white as milk.

He'd been excessively stupid one time, and tried to peel the very sharp lid of a fruit-cocktail tin can off with his bare hands. No knife or anything. The edge of the metal cut so deeply into his thumb that he was sure the bone would pop through at any slight provocation. There had been so much blood that he panicked and ran to Michonne, anxiously blabbing about the fact he was going to die from blood loss. She had to stitch it with an old needle and thread. And then she berated him intensely for his idiocy.

It was kind of cool looking, though. The way it coiled around his thumb reminded him of a string of ivy.

Ewan's eyes bulged at the size of the scar, "Jesus, man. How didn't you bleed to death?"

"No idea. God must have been feeling pretty generous that day."

"You believe in God?"

Theo scoffed incredulously, "Hell no." He then held up his hand, heart dropping with the realisation that he could've just insulted a potentially religious person. "I mean ─ I personally don't see the point in it. Not that it's bad. You can believe whatever you want."

"It's fine, I'm an atheist." Ewan assured.

"Thank God," Theo breathed. His heart worked its way back up from his stomach, settling back into its respective placement behind his ribs.

"There is a woman here though ─ total bible-worshipper." Ewan explained, his eyes cautiously scanning the perimeter. "She's the head cook, and she yelled at me last week because I shouted, "Jesus Christ" when my soup was too hot. Apparently using the Lord's name in vain is bad."

"Very bad. Blasphemy, am I right?"

"God, no."

Theo chuckled at Ewan's blatant ignorance surrounding the rules of religion. He didn't even take notice of his actions, and the boy's blissful unawareness made it a little funnier.

Theo didn't disrespect those who wanted to have something to believe in, he just didn't think it was useful. Where was the proof? Where was the evidence? That was all he needed. Maybe then he'd consider turning over a new leaf, tackling life head on with a different approach. But until there was real, concrete proof that God existed, he would remain indifferent.

"What are you two laughing about?" asked a voice Theo couldn't pinpoint right away. He peered up, squinting at the swelling plume of golden light stretching across the clearing, watching as a dark figure crept into discernment.

Ewan squinted too, but he picked up on the voice quicker than Theo did, "Oh ─ hey, Helen."

"Enjoying the party?" Helen queried politely. She folded her arms, leaning her weight against the side of the table of Kool Aid.

The silence sharpened Theo's clarity, and he realised Ewan was waiting for him to say something first. Why, he had no idea. Only that it was rather annoying, and Helen was the last person he wanted to talk to right now.

"Yeah. It's . . . uh, relaxing." Theo stuttered, unable to think of anything else to say.

The squealing baby cried louder than before.

Helen arched a brow and made a show of looking over at the mother comforting her squawking child. She cradled it in her arms, exasperated. The sound was like nails down a chalkboard. Relaxing where? Nobody could sit back and relax while listening to that. Theo had nothing to hide, so why was he lying?

"I was actually just about to show Theo around," Ewan blurted suddenly, picking at a hangnail on his thumb. "He hasn't seen everything yet. Thought it would be, uh, interesting."

"Yeah." Theo agreed. There were no such plans.

Helen nodded, a crease forming in the chasm between her brows, "Alright. Well, I was going to ask a favour from you, Ewan, but if you're busy, it doesn't matter."

"Favour?" Ewan urged.

"The Governor left his golf kit by the wall, and he forgot to take it back up to his apartment." Helen explained, feigning a small, exhausted smile that pulled the creases around her mouth taut. "I'm a bit preoccupied at the moment with other business, so I don't have time to shift it."

Ewan shrugged noncommittally, "I can do it."

"You sure? It'll only take two minutes."

"Yeah. Positive."

That was exactly how Helen had expected the conversation to unfold. Theo could tell ─ she had no hesitation, no obligation to refuse, no argument. She patted Ewan's shoulder and thanked him from the bottom of her heart. Before she turned to leave, though, the woman paused and looked between Ewan and Theo. She was holding something back, it appeared.

But eventually, she spoke, "You remember the rule?"

Ewan nodded, "Yes. No entering the Governor's─"

"─Okay, you've got it." Helen harshly interrupted, her expression indistinctly panicked. She plastered another one of those fake smiles onto her lips, and the flicker of apprehension in her eyes dissipated like wafted smoke, "See you both later."

Ewan waved weakly. Theo didn't. He stared after the woman with the corn-blonde braid, and his brain suddenly felt waterlogged. Questions bubbled to the surface. What was she hiding? What was the rule? Why did she look so panicked when Ewan almost blabbed? What was this place, and what secrets were lurking behind the curtain of superlative democracy?

Only one way to find out.

Ewan went to stand up ─ clearly headed toward the wall where the Governor's abandoned golf kit was supposedly stranded ─ but Theo quickly reached out and tugged the boy's sleeve.

"Hey, I'll go."

Confused, Ewan peered down at Theo's fingers curled around the cuff of his sleeve. He frowned, gently pulling his arm away, "Helen asked me. I don't know if you'll be allowed─"

"Sure I will. I'm part of the youth club now, aren't I?" Theo said. He felt bad for manipulating the situation, but if he wanted to persuade Andrea this place was not all what it had been banged up to be so they could finally get the hell out, he had to snoop. Had to find some form of evidence. Michonne would do the same thing.

"I guess─"

"Fantastic. Just tell me about this rule and I'll do it."

Ewan inhaled sharply. He peered around the small patch of grass, his eyes catching on the same little girl from earlier chasing her dog, before shifting to the paved pathway, which was deserted. But there was nobody else nearby. No Helen. No Governor. Just the two of them.

"You can't go into the Governor's apartment. He uses it as an office, and he doesn't want people misplacing things." Ewan elucidated, picking at his hangnail again. "Just leave the golf kit outside the door. Okay?"

Theo's waterlogged brain was getting denser. He managed to nod, "Alright. I'll do that."

"Thanks."

There was a nagging sensation at the back of Theo's head as he headed toward the wall ─ the segment with the gate and armed sentries marking either side.

He wanted to snoop. He wanted to discern the truth about this place, if there even was any. He wanted to confront his worries. Worries he and Michonne shared. But were they were being rash? Jumping to conclusions? They had spent month after month out on the road, learning not to trust anything or anyone unless they proved their worth through blood, sweat and tears. And if they didn't, that was it. It wasn't easy to pretend. It was instinct. It sharpened his attentiveness, his ability to crack through mould and plaster. And Woodbury had to have had a serpent hiding beneath its flowery disposition. Theo was determined to pick away the petals until only scales remained.

He found the golf kit leaning against the wall. One of the men walking the top of the rusted metal above looked down on Theo, asserting his position with an arrogant smirk. Theo shot him a glare in return, wrapping his fingers around the fabric handle of the golfing bag. He then turned on the heel of his boot and stepped away, without sparing the guard a second glance.

But a voice that made his ears bleed stopped him in his tracks, "Hey, it's Robin Hood! Where's it you're off to in a such a hurry, huh?"

Merle.

Theo peered over his shoulder, but he didn't turn around. That was the first level of respect breached, and Merle ─ standing on the other side of the wall, grinning tauntingly ─ knew it. However, his smirk only widened, and he shared a brief look with the man Theo had glared at barely twenty seconds ago.

"What happened to shootin' at targets, Hood?" Merle inquired, shrugging excessively. "Or was it stealin' that damned fox did best at?"

"I'm not stealing." Theo defended through gritted teeth. He knew what Merle was insinuating, and he hated the way the pair of them were leering down on him like vultures. "Helen asked me to take this back. Which I could've told you if you asked."

He gestured to the golf kit.

The small desire to slide one of the golf clubs out from the bag and chase Merle around Woodbury with it was tempting. But Merle had a gun. Gun definitely outweighed heavy pole. And it was fair to say, bullets were more efficient.

"Helen, huh? In that case, I best let you go." Merle said in that annoying, gravelly Southern accent of his. He pointed a singular finger at the golf kit, "But if that goes missin,' I'll be tellin' her a wild fox came 'round. Had a bit of a mouth on it."

"Yeah. Okay." Theo muttered. "Whatever."

As he walked away, Theo could hear Merle speaking lowly to the man beside him, which was then preceded by the sound of guffawing that echoed down the desolate street. His fist clenched around the bag-strap, and the temptation to whip out the golf club was so overwhelming to the point he wasn't actually sure if it would become a reality.

Instead, Theo focused on the path ahead. He drowned out Merle's voice and ignored the laughing, and tried not to think about the fact they were probably watching his every step.

He hadn't hated someone to such a prodigious extent for a long time. Matter of fact, Merle resembled him, if only a little bit.

If I'd never had you, I could've been doing something worthwhile with my life.

I drink to drown you out.

At least your mother got to escape. Now I'm stuck with you, aren't I? Huh?

Huh?

Theo's heart sped up on its own accord. His thoughts drifted back too far ─ to that dark place which he had padlocked months ago, not daring to open the doors and unleash the silhouettes that were draped in a thin veil of despair. He didn't want to tread any closer than necessary. Those shadows were glacial, and when released, they permeated his senses. He couldn't think about much else. He felt a bit sick. Just thinking about it filled him with dread. Nauseating, cold dread that coiled around his heart and infiltrated his bones.

He walked faster than before. The humidity in the air was thick and heavy, and a thin sheen of sweat beaded along his hairline ─ though not entirely a product from heat and exertion. His hands felt clammy, and the back of his neck was uncomfortably itchy.

When he reached the pale-green apartment complex, Theo rushed inside, shouldering the big, oak door aside. He only knew it was the Governor's because Andrea pointed it out this morning. She had been wearing a big, coy smile on her face, and the look he and Michonne exchanged at the time was almost comedic. Pure disgust.

At the minute, all he could feel was overwhelmed.

He pressed his back against the wall, clutching the front of his shirt as the oxygen slowly seeped back into his lungs. His fingers shook a little, but nothing too extensive. If anything, he felt less panicked now and more ridiculous. Like he was being dramatic. Over the top. When he was younger, he had to cope with it, even when it sometimes felt like he was dying. When he couldn't get his breath back. So he could do it now ─ like usual.

Theo took a deep breath and set his jaw. He began climbing the stairs to the second floor.

It became obvious rather quickly which apartment belonged to the Governor. His door was dark brown, freshly painted. There was also a basket of fruit planted in front of the door, which the others rooms didn't have. Clearly, the rule about not entering his apartment applied to everyone.

Theo moved the fruit aside and reached for the doorknob. He was surprised to find it wasn't locked ─ it rattled, and with one twist of the solid metal, the hinges squeaked as the door swung open. The smell of ancient wood invaded Theo's nostrils at once, and he just stood for a second, gazing into the room pensively. He could walk away, place the golf kit next to the fruit basket, and pretend that nothing had ever happened here. Or he could go inside, gather potential evidence, and tell Andrea.

Ultimately, he settled with the latter.

He walked inside, closed the door behind him. The thud was louder than expected, and he flinched a little; a part of him feared the Governor would be right behind him. But he couldn't be. Theo saw him with Andrea five minutes ago, if that. He was sure they'd be having a long, flirtatious conversation as they strolled through the streets of Woodbury. That meant Theo was in the green zone in the meantime.

The apartment itself was quite normal looking. Living room, old patchwork couches huddled together in the middle, an oak dining table situated in the far corner. There was a small kitchen beside the door, blocked off by a half-wall that covered the countertops and the majority of the tall, silver fridge. A plate of untouched malt-loaf had been covered by a sheet of cling film. Theo's stomach grumbled just at the sight.

He had been eating, but the hunger never left him. It was like a phantom fist curled around his stomach, squeezing anytime he thought about or saw food.

The malt loaf remained untouched. Theo walked around the sitting room, testing the waters. Golden puddles of sunlight gushed through the window, shards cutting across a dusty bookshelf and a desk. Papers were scattered across the surface of the desk, accompanied by ink markers and pencils. Interesting. Like something plucked directly from a detective show ─ Criminal Minds, namely, which had been his neighbour's favourite show. Sonya.

He never watched it. Just saw glimpses. Most of the time, he was too preoccupied playing with Sonya's baby. She had really chubby hands and giggled at basically everything.

Now, Sonya and her daughter were gone.

Theo took a deep breath. He flicked through the papers on the Governor's desk, but they weren't important. Mostly development plans, crop management, population control. Annoyingly, nothing of interest came to light. He scoffed and reshuffled them all so it looked how it did before. Cluttered.

Then he heard something.

Faint growling. Coming from a room on the left, behind the kitchen.

It sounded like a walker. There was nothing else on earth that made a noise so distinct. Gurgling, snarling.

Theo made a move toward the room, but then he heard something else. Footsteps. Voices. Coming into the apartment.

He immediately ducked behind the outcropping of wall separating the sitting room from the bedroom. There was a window behind him, too ─ an escape route, if worst came to worst. The relief he felt at that revelation was squashed almost as soon as it came: he had knocked over the golf kit, and the clubs were sprawled across the floor behind the sofa. Hopefully, with the way they were positioned, the person coming inside wouldn't see them. The couch would conceal them . . . he was sure.

No time to doubt it, now. The door opened.

The Governor waltzed in, followed closely by Helen. He was stressed, running a hand through his hair, while Helen juxtaposed him greatly, calmly padding her way inside, arms folded behind her back. Seeing them together solidified a suspicion in Theo's mind: he knew they had to have had some sort of connection. She was ranked highly in terms of Woodbury residents, and it couldn't be simply for running a youth club. Or a commemoration for the goodness of her heart. No, it had to run deeper. If Helen was permitted entry into the Governor's private residence, she had to be important. Close to him.

"I told you, Philip."

Theo almost forgot the Governor's name was actually Philip. It sounded so old fashioned. He pressed a hand over his mouth, stifling a laugh.

"She poses a risk." Helen continued, her voice stern. She took to the middle of the sitting room, hands on her hips now. "She's dangerous. I mean, snooping around in personal spaces? That tells me she has something to hide."

"I don't think Michonne is as dangerous as you make her out to be." the Governor said, pouring himself a glass of dark-coloured liquor. "Just inquisitive, is all."

Michonne. So, she had been snooping, after all. Theo could barely contain his curiosity ─ he gripped the side of the wall, craning his neck around it. He could still see them, clearer than before.

"Inquisitive?" Despite her disbelief, Helen's voice remained calm. "She held a katana to your neck."

"Tensions were running high." the Governor excused. He shrugged, sipping the liquor. "I'm sure she wouldn't have been as rash in a more relaxed environment. I was questioning her ─ she might have felt threatened."

Theo was definitely asking Michonne questions when he got back. An interrogation?

Helen sighed. She poured herself a glass of liquor, her reflection bouncing off the side of the bottle, "I don't understand why you're defending her. She killed our walkers. She came in here without permission, stole her weapon back. And she knows about Penny."

A cold, cutting silence sliced through the conversation.

The Governor set his glass down on the display case, pinching the bridge of his nose. Theo could feel the tension burning in the room.

He didn't have to know who Penny was to see she had had an influence over them, whoever she happened to be. Their reactions were similar to Theo's when Michonne and Andrea asked about his parents. He didn't like talking about it, and it was unsettling when he did. Emotions were like cavities, irritatingly deep. The longer you dwelled on them, the more painful they got. But if you cut the tears, severed them from the root, that pain would fade eventually.

"She doesn't know about Penny." the Governor's voice was sharp, like a whip colliding with flesh. "Let's not . . . let's not talk about my daughter."

Helen rolled her eyes discreetly, "She's my niece, Philip."

Mid-swallow, Theo almost choked on his saliva right then and there. Niece. Daughter. He connected the dots, and the true reasoning behind their obvious connection became apparent. They were siblings.

Helen was the Governor's sister.

God, Theo couldn't wait to tell Michonne. Well . . . if she hadn't figured it out already, with all of her poking around.

"Doesn't matter. I don't wanna hear it." the Governor commanded.

"Fine. What are we going to do about Michonne, then?"

The Governor leaned against his desk with a little more vigour than intended. The wooden globe perched in the centre trembled. He payed it no mind, "I'll speak to Andrea. She'll talk to Michonne, straighten her out."

"What about the boy? Theo." Helen added, arching a brow. Theo could feel his heart racing. "Could sound better coming from a kid."

"You're right, it could."

Helen pressed her lips into a line, gaze shifting to the fraying carpet beneath her boots, "You don't sound convinced."

"Merle said he's got a mouth." the Governor mused. He looked somewhat humoured by that remark, raising his hands into an over-exaggerated shrug, "I think Michonne's had more influence on the kid than Andrea. He might side with her instead. Then we've got two problems on our hands, not one."

"That's true," Helen sighed. She rubbed a circle against her forehead, as if she were easing a migraine. "If worse comes to worse, we do what we're best at."

The Governor jutted his chin upward, brows cinching together, "And what's that?"

"Making things disappear."

Just then, a knock on the door sounded out, reverberating around the entire room. Theo practically jumped out of his skin, needles of terror seeping through his skin in the wake of hearing Helen's chilling words. He stumbled back, pressing his back against the wall, knees tucked up beneath him.

The Governor opened the door, and an unfamiliar voice began mumbling something along the lines of scientific experiment.

Against better judgement, Theo used that chasm in time to make a run for it. He had the information he needed, and he wanted nothing more than to confide in Michonne ─ maybe Andrea would even take this as a sign that Woodbury wasn't a good place.

He bent under the half opened window, and stepped out onto the porch roof, carefully assessing the groves between the tiles for his feet to fit between. The street of Woodbury below was empty, with everyone over in the gardens celebrating . . . well, the fact they were alive. But that was fortunate, because nobody would see him sliding out of the Governor's apartment window.

There was a pipe. Theo latched his hands around it and began shuffling down the metal. When his feet met the ground, he burst into a mad sprint, legs kicking beneath him.

However, little did he know, Helen had found the toppled golf kit. She put the pieces together rather quickly, and the flapping curtains hanging from the window strengthened her suspicion.

Theo was in trouble, and he didn't even know it yet.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

this is a long ass chapter i apologise,
but im low-key very proud of it.
i absolutely love theo with my
entire being and HE AND MARLEY
ARE GONNA MEET SO SOON AH.

also what do we think about my
additional characters? ewan is baby
and helen is a little more devious. they're
not gonna be main characters they just
add some purpose to theo's plot. also,
theo struggles with his emotions because
of his past, being forced to bottle them
up and never really growing out of
that habit. yikes.

also, here are my faceclaims for ewan
and helen!

PAIGE TURCO AS HELEN

KI HONG LEE AS EWAN