When (Y/n) takes a simple haunting case on her own, she gets in way over her head. Being transported to the past, she falls in love with a young marine with a killer smile. The only problem is she knows his sons and his girlfriend wants to kill her, and probably knows about twenty ways to do so.
Warnings: Language, screwing up canon, etc.
So I changed a little when John went to Vietnam. Just by a couple years.
If you got rusty during the apocalypse, you died. Plain and simple.
Encountering situations that you had to fight your way through was unavoidable, and Bandit had dedicated his life to being prepared for those kinds of situation even before the world had gone entirely to shit. He wasn’t about to slack off now. That being said, the Marine took a healthy chunk of the time that he wasn’t running patrols or helping out people around the camp to train when he could. Now, as they took a break from their daily routine of hauling ass out of the city the best that they could, Bandit wandered a few yards away from the caravan. He was blocked from the view of most by the way he had parked his large SUV and took advantage of it as he palmed his two large Marine bayonets and swung against the skillful enemy that he could only see.
He had traded his usual US Marine Corps shirt for a tank top, already sweating his balls off in the Florida heat when just standing still, let alone when jabbing and dodging and restarting to make sure that his form wasn’t something that had gone to shit while he fought off the undead rather than other military personnel. The only thing that had his flow of sharp and powerful movements changing was the distinct sound of footsteps against nearby pavement, the scuffling bringing his attention abruptly over to the woman that had approached, his body tense and ready to defend if it wasn’t a member of their group. Upon recognizing the dark-haired woman, Bandit slowly lowered his blades. “Bambi.” He greeted, chest heaving slightly though his voice was steady.