Eight months… Eight months of staying in this shit-hole of a cell block, with nothing but his thoughts and the other prisoners for company. Of course, they were… okay for conversation. But none of them were family men. They didn’t have kids; they weren’t married.

Hell, they were just kids.

It was almost a blessing when those people came in. Although they were trailing two and a half kids with them.

It had been a week since they’d arrived. And he was sitting on the bottom step in the cell block, his jumpsuit lowered to his hips, and his t-shirt wet through with sweat, keeping an eye out for any trouble; as per the leader’s instructions.

None of them trusted the new woman, who had turned up with a basket full of baby milk. And it showed, as Hershel was barely touching her as he worked on the wound on her leg.

Adam was sitting outside on his back porch, looking at the beach. Somebody who they had left back at home apparently need him and he sat on the phone listening to something he didn’t know how to take care or. Well, more like he didn’t care about it. Halfway through the man’s rambling on the phone, he heard someone walk up tot he side of the house. Adam turned to look at the person before speaking in the phone. “Je vais devoir vous rappeler.” He said before hanging up the phone. 

Looking over to the person who had now spent longer standing there than they should, he sighed. “Can I help you?” Adam asked. 


Wow, the theme song reversed is actually really good?!?