Found

Hello, lovelies!! I hope you all enjoy my little story I've created here :) Above is a screenshot of my posting on ao3, which shows the many tags I have attached to this story! I appreciate each and every one of you for giving my book a chance, I'm still eternally grateful with how many people have enjoyed this story as much as I did creating it 🤍

the (currently in process) spanish translation can be found at @-h0neyprongs <3

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TikTok:
coffee_scorpio

the playlist:
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2oU85V4SV8rpZbr07TqNzV?si=aG837qkBQPmWkNIbYKK8tQ

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CONTENT WARNINGS: canon-typical violence, explicit sex, past/mentioned domestic violence, and implied/referenced rape (NO rape scenes). I would say 18+ based on the content but I know I sure as hell never listened to that when I was under 18 😭

This fanfic follows the main storyline with slight changes to the plot here and there :) AND there is a quite a bit of fanservice including the removal of many unnecessary and frustrating deaths!! My readers LOVE that part haha. There is also a happy ending, I promise :))

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--- CAST ---

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-- Jennifer Aniston as Dr. Cassandra E. Adams --

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-- Andrew Lincoln as Rick Grimes --

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-- Sandra Oh as Dr. Sophie Yu --

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And the rest of the TWD cast as themselves with a few other OC(s) you don't need to know about yet :)
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CHAPTER ONE: FOUND 
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Relief and pride continue to spread through my body as I confidently stride through the halls of Atlanta General, heading to the waiting room, mildly exhausted from the 6-hour surgery I just completed.

Thanks to the surgical team's hard work, the kid will be perfectly fine. The majority of my patients are, but I never cease to get that feeling of sweet relief every time those stats equal out and the bleeding stops. Closing them up and sending them off to recovery is one of the best parts of being a pediatric surgeon.

On my way to the waiting room, my eyes dart up from the worn linoleum floors to find my best friend, Sophie, writing in a chart outside a couple of patient rooms. Her face is scrunched in annoyance as she scribbles aggressively in the chart, making her mass of dark curly hair shake. I smile in amusement as she glances up to see me, that expression of annoyance dropping from her face.

"Hey Cass, surgery go well?" She greets me, her eyebrows raised eagerly, the surgery junkie in front of me waiting expectantly to hear the details. I nod with a proud grin.

"Yep. It was a simple fix and he stabilized quickly," I smile breezily. One of the best parts of being a pediatric surgeon is that kids bounce back so fast- especially after surgery.

"Must be nice. I forgot one suture yesterday during close and now I'm stuck with the goddamn comatose patients today," Sophie grumbles, rolling her eyes, nudging her curly hair toward the patient room behind her, the pale wooden door slightly ajar.

I furrow my brows, only seeing a partial view of the surprisingly handsome man lying alone in the hospital bed, the monitor beside him beeping softly. The sun from the large window softly streams across his restful face.

Something unfamiliar tugs in my chest as I look over his peaceful features, not sure why I feel so... drawn to him.

Drawn to the way his recently trimmed brown hair curls along his forehead, his strong nose, his nicely-shaped lips, and the slight wrinkles around his eyes which suggest he smiles frequently. My eyes wander over his face, at that dark stubble accenting his sharp jawline, wondering why I can't make myself look away as Sophie continues.

"Yeah, the guy is a cop who got shot in the field. He's been in a coma for a couple of months now. It's at the stage where his wife and kid can't afford to be here all the time, it's kinda sad." Sophie clicks her tongue, scribbling something down on his chart.

I nod, pushing down the slight disappointment at the words 'wife and kid', focusing again on his relaxed expression.

I hope he wakes up. He looks like he has a nice laugh.

It takes me more than just a second to tear my eyes away from him and back at my best friend watching me quizzically. I put on a smile, pushing past the strange feeling settling over me.

"Well, I gotta give the parents the good news! I'll see you at lunch?" I ask Sophie who nods with a grin, letting me go as she heads to a nurse station to presumably grab her next patient's chart.

I push open the glass double doors to the waiting room, searching the large room for Joshua's parents, Mr. and Mrs. Keyes. They sit against the wall of windows which look out to the city as they hold one another, their faces contorted with worry. The father looks up and stands immediately, wringing his hands nervously as his desperate eyes search mine.

When I break out in a smile, the tension immediately drops from his shoulders and he slumps in relief. The mother jumps up, her face bright with hope.

"Joshua is a strong and resilient kid! The surgery went smoothly. He's stable and in recovery right now," I grin proudly, my heart soaring at the tears of relief flowing freely from the Keyes' eyes.

"Thank you! Oh god- thank you!" The dad sobs, throwing himself onto me, hugging me tightly, making me let out a laugh.

Shoving the walking cadaver off me roughly, I let out a grunt of effort as it falls backward onto the forest floor. Adrenaline buzzes under my skin as I rush forward and stomp on its rotting skull, a bead of well-earned sweat dripping from my hairline.

God, I hate these assholes.

I grimace in disgust at the sight of rotten flesh and old blood on my boot. Just three months ago I was a pediatric surgeon practicing at the top hospital in the state. Living with two of my closest friends, spending my days healing children, and when not working, healing myself too.

Now I'm a murderer. 

For survival, I'm forced to undo the vows I made when I got my MD. The vows which implicitly pledge to never take a life.

Pausing for a moment, I stare down at the cadaver's crushed and bloody face, maggots already squirming around the bloody mess, nausea twisting deep somewhere within me at the sight. Despite this, my last meal doesn't resurface. That stopped happening weeks ago.

I was lucky enough when fleeing Atlanta when it first happened to run into an old couple. My panicked thought process as the city fell around me was that any highway would be a nightmare so I took back roads instead. I was weaving through the winding country roads, getting as far from Atlanta as possible when my car broke down right as the sun started to set, leaving me stranded. It was my own fault for trusting the car I rarely drove when spending the majority of my life at the hospital.

I was deserted and would have been cadaver dinner if it wasn't for Dave and Betty Newman who found me and offered me shelter for the night.

Betty had a considerable and deep laceration on her forearm which I helped her disinfect and suture back up. To thank me, the two of them allowed me to stay with them in their small farmhouse for a while after. I helped scavenge supplies as they were a bit too old to do it themselves- it was how Betty got hurt in the first place.

The three of us became close, taking care of each other at the end of the world.

They were so kind. It made killing them so much harder, even if they weren't themselves anymore. It was my fault for leaving them unprotected. I was out scavenging when those fucking cadavers got them.

I buried them side by side in the meadow by their backyard. It was the least I could do.

Hot tears sting my eyes at the memory of those kind people as I move forward, trudging through the humid Georgia forest, my chest heaving with exhaustion.

The Newmans died about a week or two ago. I've been alone since.

I don't know where to go from here. I have to find people- people I can help. If I can't do that, if there isn't anyone left, I don't have anything else to live for. My family, my best friend, and my ex (thank god) are all gone.

Who knew? It's the apocalypse and the thing that kills me is loneliness.

Stumbling to an abrupt stop, my heart drops when I hear a blood-curdling scream erupting in the silent forest. My head snaps to my right, where the familiar screaming of a child sounds in the distance.

I know that awful sound well, hearing it too many times to count in my career. Setting off in a sprint, I tear through the forest, hoping I'm getting closer as I hear another, louder, shriek.

My heart hammers in my ears as I crash through the heavy greenery of the woods until I reach a creek where a young girl, maybe twelve, is in the middle of the shallow river, three cadavers on either side, struggling to get at her, their feet stuck in the thick mud. The girl clutches her doll close to her chest, tears streaming down her distraught face.

Adrenaline flares through me at the sight and I jump into protection mode, sliding down the bank of the creek and sloshing through the shallow water. The undead monster closest to me turns at the sound, and the moment it faces me, I lurch forward and stab it right in the forehead before ripping my knife back, grimacing in disgust. The cadaver collapses lifelessly into the water, giving me a slight feeling of relief.

My heart hammering with fear, I whip around to the next cadaver that reaches out for me. I grasp its grey-skinned arm and pull it forward as my other hand shoves my knife into the side of its skull. I whirl around as the last one breaks its feet off, lurches towards us, and faceplants into the creek.

Taking the opportunity before it can get up, I stomp on its skull, feeling relieved that it's over. Retrieving my knife from the second cadaver, I cringe at the rotten fluids covering the blade.

My chest still heaving with exhaustion and adrenaline, I grab the girl gently, pulling her out of the water and placing her on the dry riverbank.

Holding the girl by her shoulders, I squat down to her eye level, searching her widened brown eyes. Her chest is rising and falling quickly as she blinks at me, clearly too frightened to speak. Breathing heavily myself, I glance around us at the empty forest. No cadavers to be seen. Or people.

Is she out here alone?

"Hi-" I start, my voice coming out a hoarse croak.

I haven't spoken in over a week. No one to talk to.

Clearing my throat, I tuck a stray hair behind my ear to get a better look at her. "Hi honey, it's okay. I'm a doctor, are you hurt?" I ask gently, doing a quick scan of her arms and legs, and she shakes her head no. Good.

"My name is Cassandra. I want to help you, okay? Do you know where your parents are?" I question the girl slowly and calmly, searching her freckled face.

She starts to sniffle, looking around in defeat, clearly lost. I smile in an attempt to calm her down and get some answers. "What's your name?" I ask softly. She glances back at me as if assessing if she can trust me, her shoulder-length ginger hair swaying slightly.

"Sophia" She whispers, her bottom lip trembling slightly.

"That's my best friend's name!" I exclaim, a piece of my heart breaking for my Sophie, while this Sophia smiles weakly, clearly still terrified, clutching her doll so tight her knuckles are white.

"What happened before you came here? Do you know where your family is?" I question her, giving her a moment to think.

"We... we were on the highway, and then a big herd of walkers came through, and one came after me, a-and so I ran into the woods. Rick came to help and told me to stay and if he didn't come back in ten minutes to go back with the sun on m-my left shoulder -or right- oh." Her panicked ramble stutters to a stop, her wide brown eyes staring up at me helplessly.

Shit, she's definitely lost.

"Did he tell you to keep the sun on a certain side?" I check and she nods. It's a smart way to help a kid navigate, but when in survival mode, it can be hard for them to remember details like that.

"I don't remember which way. I'm sorry," Sophia whimpers, tears forming in her panicked eyes, her eyebrows crinkling together. My heart breaks for her. The poor girl is terrified.

"Hey, it's alright! I will help you find them okay?" I assure her quickly, standing up and glancing back at the muddy riverbank. There are a ton of footprints on either side of the bank, all overlapped and messy. It's hard to distinguish which are human, more specifically, not resurrected from the dead.

"Okay, let's head with the sun on our right shoulders. If we don't find them tonight, we may have to head back to my house until tomorrow and we can try again, does that work?" I ask Sophia, and she takes a minute before nodding. I smile with relief, offering my hand to her.

She takes my head gingerly, and we head East, toward the I-78.

[A/N: I literally have no idea about the geography or the highway system of where they are in Georgia so I just made them up lol]

The I-78 is one of the larger highways and it would make sense for them to have been there. I keep my eyes peeled for any cadavers, or 'walkers' was the name she used for them, I kinda like it. Less crass than 'cadaver', that's for sure.

Our footsteps crunch beneath us as we traverse our way to the I-78. I keep a slow pace with Sophia, still holding her hand, the other staying securely gripped on my knife. As we walk, I can't help but wonder who the Rick guy she mentioned is.

He's probably not her dad because she most likely wouldn't call him by name. That could mean she has a group. Maybe a group I could join.

My heart skips a beat and a tentative smile starts to form on my face at the idea of no longer being so alone.

After hours of walking up and down the I-78 and seeing absolutely no living people, I take Sophia back to the farmhouse as the sun sets. She silently cried as she followed me through the forest, clearly missing her family. I wish I could help her, but we both know it's not safe out here at night.

The two of us arrive at the farmhouse. Honestly, it's more of a shed than anything. It's a small, simple, white-paneled cottage with a back porch which I use as my main entry point. It's pretty run-down at this point, but it works.

I'm sure it was much more beautiful before the apocalypse decayed the paint and overgrew the weeds. I can imagine Betty repainting the blue shutters as Dave cleans the drains on a sunny afternoon, Frank Sinatra flowing through the open window.

I bring Sophia into the house, securing and locking the porch door behind her, feeling a sense of relief we got somewhere safe. Guiding Sophia to the small floral couch, I sit her down while I grab us dinner, which consists of canned beans. One of the few cans I have left.

After lighting the candles and basking the room in a warm glow, I pass Sophia her portion of beans. To cheer her up, I retrieve the incomplete deck of cards I found in a stray drawer, encouraging her to play go fish with me.

I sit beside her on the couch, crossing my legs and turning to face her, my back pressing against the armrest.

"- So, is it just you and your parents, or this Rick person?" I question Sophia casually, hoping to find out more about the group as she looks up from her cards. The weak light from the candle flickers across her freckled face as she looks down, sadness behind her eyes.

"Um, my dad is gone but my mom is here. We're in a group, we used to be bigger but- but things happened. Rick is Carl's dad, my best friend." Sophia explains simply, and I nod along, trying to quiet my excited heart.

So there is a group! Hope begins to flower in my chest as I try not to think about the lifeless highway we were at.

I checked to make sure it was the right highway but Sophia wasn't completely sure. We have to go again tomorrow.

If I know anything about how much parents care about their kids, her mom will not give up. I just hope nothing happened so that they had to leave.

Sophia places down her winning cards and I gasp. "What?! Oh, you had to be cheating! This isn't fair!" I exclaim with feigned anger, making her giggle proudly as she takes a bite of her canned beans. I grin back at her.

I will find her family. Or die trying. For her.

Sophia and I search for a whole day again at the I-78, but I begin to lose hope as we scour the lifeless collection of abandoned cars. We head back to the shed earlier than normal, deciding to go west tomorrow, towards the I-85. They look similar and would easily be mistaken, especially by a child.

Sophia stays put in the house as I 'hunt' out right outside. I came up with camouflage to help me attempt to catch food since I don't know how to hunt or use snares. After what happened to Betty and Dave, I'm not risking going out and scavenging. Especially not alone, it's too risky.

I throw on Dave's old camo hunting gear and smear the mud from the nearby pond on my face, hands, and hair. Then I perch outside, waiting for something to come by to catch. Not only does the camouflage allow me to hide from my prey, but it also helps me disappear from the cadavers.

I'm leaning up against a tree about three feet away from the house, to make sure I'm right here for Sophia just in case. I boarded up the other doors and windows after what happened to Dave and Betty so the only working exit is the porch door I'm facing. Nothing and no one is going in or out without me knowing.

I'm not sure how long I stay perched there in the brush, my thighs beginning to burn, until I spot a large raccoon walking along. I widen my eyes with excitement and am about to pounce when a gaggle of voices startles the raccoon away, making me freeze in place, my heart pounding.

The group of three cautiously walk up to the house. The trio consists of a gruff-looking man with a crossbow held tightly in his hands, staring down at the ground, a blonde woman holding a handgun, scanning the area, and a young Asian guy with a baseball hat, watching the crossbow guy.

"D'you think some creep kidnapped her?" The blonde woman asks quietly, glancing at the gruff guy, who scrunches up his face in thought.

"I dunno, the tracks show 'em walking together, side by side, like she went voluntarily," He comments thoughtfully, looking up at the house under his furrowed eyebrows. They cautiously walk toward the porch, just about to pass where I'm perched, the Asian guy closest to me.

The one unarmed person.

As they walk right in front of me, I quickly jump to my feet, grab the baseball cap guy and yank him backward. I angle my knife against his throat as the other two reel back in shock, immediately aiming their weapons at me.

"Who the hell are you." I grit through my teeth, in the most menacing way I can manage as the other two aim their weapons right at me, their eyes wide.

The man I have my knife held against sighs shakily. "Why is it always me?" he whimpers.

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