Broken Realities: What-if

Author note at the end. Enjoy.

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The RV rumbled to a stop at the entrance of Hershel's farm during late night, the tension inside palpable as the survivors prepared to face their temporary home. Kenny, his knuckles white on the steering wheel, took a deep breath before turning to the others, ignoring the blood pool in the middle of the RV.

"We're here," he said, his voice heavy with the weight of recent events.

Lee was the first to move, his eyes seeking out Clementine through the windshield even through the night. As he stepped out of the RV, he saw her running across the field as the house's door opened and multiple people got out after her, her face lit up with joy and relief.

"Lee!" she cried, throwing herself into his arms. He held her tight, closing his eyes for a moment, allowing himself to feel the simple comfort of her presence.

"I'm back, sweet pea," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "Just like I promised."

As the others exited the RV, Hershel approached, his brow furrowed with concern. His eyes swept over the group, noting the absence of Doug and the palpable tension among the survivors.

As the others exited the RV, Hershel approached, his brow furrowed with concern at seeing two extra people instead of ten that he expected. His eyes swept over the group, noting the downed expressions and the palpable tension among the survivors.

"Welcome back," he said cautiously. "I take it things didn't go as planned in Macon?"

Kenny exchanged a glance with Lee before responding. "You could say that. We... we lost people."

Hershel's expression darkened. "I'm sorry to hear that." Turning to Carley and Glen, the two greeted back, giving the man their name and thanking him for hosting. "Come on inside, you all look like you could use some rest."

As the group made their way towards the farmhouse, Alex lingered behind, his movements slow and hesitant. His foot still hurt but he could walk normally if he ignored the pain. Glen noticed and fell back to walk beside him.

"You okay, man?" Glen asked, his voice low.

Alex didn't meet his friend's eyes. "I'm fine," he muttered, but his tone betrayed the lie.

Inside the farmhouse, Kenny rushed to embrace Katjaa and Duck, his relief evident in his tears, staying silent as his wife and son asked what was wrong. As the family reunited, Lee pulled Hershel aside.

While Glen, Carley, and Alex met the old man's family fully.

Patricia, Hershel's wife, stood near the kitchen entrance. Her graying blonde hair was tied back in a loose bun, and she wore a simple floral dress with an apron. Her kind face showed signs of worry, but she managed a warm smile as she welcomed the newcomers, Alex, Kenny, and Lee.

Beth, Hershel's youngest daughter, lingered by the staircase. The 16 years old wore jeans and a light blue t-shirt, her blonde hair falling in waves around her shoulders. Her wide eyes darted between the new faces, a mix of curiosity and apprehension in her gaze. Though it finally settled on Alex, who was covered in blood, as if he was splashed for a moment.

Maggie, Hershel's eldest daughter, stood with her arms crossed near the living room entrance. Her short brown hair framed a face set in a cautious expression. She wore practical farm clothes - worn jeans and a plaid shirt - and her posture suggested a readiness for action if needed.

Shawn, Hershel's son, leaned against the wall near the front door. His muscular frame was clad in work jeans, and a sweat-stained t-shirt. His face, usually friendly, now bore a serious expression as he observed the returning group. Especially, Alex's vacant and empty expression, as if he was lost.

As introductions were made, Alex nodded politely but remained distant. After a few moments of stilted conversation, he excused himself. "I need to use the bathroom," he muttered, Shawn gave him the direction, and he slipped away from the group, as Kenny and others watched his back.

"What's wrong?" Katjaa asked, worried, but Kenny shook his head. "Not now."

In the small bathroom, Alex braced himself against the sink, finally allowing himself to look in the mirror. The face that stared back at him was almost unrecognizable.

His once neatly combed black hair was disheveled and matted with sweat and drops of blood. Dark circles underscored his brown eyes, which seemed to have lost their usual warmth, replaced by a haunted look. His olive skin, usually healthy and clear, now appeared sallow and drawn.

Alex's lean frame, typically held with confidence two days ago, now seemed hunched and burdened. His clothes, a once-clean dark blue t-shirt and jeans, were now stained with dirt, sweat, and splashes of blood - reminder of the event in Macon.

Hershel had told everyone to take out their shoes outside before coming, which Alex thought logical, since otherwise, the house would have prints of blood all over.

But it was his expression that truly caught his attention. The friendly, open face of a young man eager to help others had been replaced by a hard, guarded look. His jaw was clenched, and a muscle twitched in his cheek as he glared at his reflection.

Alex couldn't look himself in the mirror for long. His gaze instead turned to the sink, as he griped it by the side, already forgetting his own face.

With trembling hands, he turned on the faucet, splashing cold water on his face. The shock of it helped clear his mind, if only for a moment. As he dried his face with a nearby towel, he heard a soft knock on the door.

"Alex?" It was Glen's voice, laced with concern. "You've been in there a while. Everything okay?"

Alex took a deep breath, steadying himself. "Yeah, I'm fine. Be out in a minute."

He gave himself one last look in the mirror, straightening his posture and schooling his features into a neutral expression. With a final nod instead of a punch to his reflection, he opened the door.

Glen stood there, worry evident in his eyes. "Hey, man. The others are gathering in the living room. Hershel wants to talk to everyone."

Alex nodded, following Glen back to the main room. As they entered, he felt the weight of everyone's gaze upon him. The room fell silent, conversations dying mid-sentence.

Hershel cleared his throat, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "Now that we're all here, I think it's time we discuss what happened in Macon, and what our next steps should be."

Kenny shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Lee. "Look, Hershel, maybe now's not the best time. We're all pretty beat, and-"

"With all due respect," Hershel interrupted, his tone firm but not unkind, "I need to know what kind of situation we're dealing with here. You've brought new people into my home, and I can see that something serious happened out there."

Lee stepped forward, his eyes meeting Hershel's. "You're right. You deserve to know." He took a deep breath, preparing to recount their harrowing experience.

As Lee began to speak, Alex found himself drifting, the words washing over him without really registering. His mind kept replaying the events in Macon - the chaos, the fear, and most of all, the moment he had taken Larry's life.

He was jolted back to the present by the sound of his name.

"Alex?" Hershel was looking at him expectantly. "Do you have anything to add?"

Alex blinked, realizing he had missed most of the conversation. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out, no idea what to say before he remembered his theory about the infection.

"I think we'll all infected."

The words jolted everyone out of their grim thoughts, while Hershel, Kenny, and Lee noticed the change of topic. Mainly because he missed everything that they talked about, what happened and what they did, what Alex did. When Hershel asked his input, it was to give him a chance to defend himself as he noticed Katjaa try to put more space between her, Duck, and Alex.

While Hershel's daughters and wife tensed and prepared for anything. Though, not expecting what Alex said.

The room fell into a stunned silence, all eyes fixed on Alex. His words hung in the air, heavy with implication and horror.

"What do you mean, 'we're all infected'?" Hershel asked, his voice a mix of disbelief and concern.

Alex took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. "In Macon, we saw... we saw someone turn without being bitten. It happened fast, almost immediately after death."

The group exchanged uneasy glances, processing this new information. Kenny stepped forward, his face grim.

"It's true," he confirmed. "Larry... he turned right in front of us. No bite, no scratch. Just... died and came back." 'Killed' Alex's corrected to himself, but finally noticing everyone's gaze on him, he grimaced. 'Must've told them while I spaced out…'

Katjaa gasped, instinctively pulling Duck closer to her. "But how is that possible?"

Alex continued, his voice steady despite the weight of his words. "I've been thinking about it. The infection, whatever it is, it's not just spread by bites. It's already in us. All of us. The bite just... speeds up the process, maybe."

Hershel's brow furrowed deeply. "That's a bold claim, son. Do you have any proof beyond this one incident?"

"No concrete proof," Alex admitted. "But think about it. How else could this have spread so quickly? The country's military would have wiped it out already by now."

The room erupted into a cacophony of voices - questions, denials, and fearful exclamations. Lee raised his hands, trying to calm the group.

"Everyone, please," he said loudly. "We need to stay calm and think this through."

Maggie spoke up, her voice trembling slightly. "If what you're saying is true, then... then we're all just walking time bombs. Is that it?"

Alex nodded grimly. "In a way, yes. But it also means we need to be even more careful. Any death, from any cause, could mean a new walker."

The implications of this sank in, casting a pall over the room. Shawn, who had been silent until now, spoke up. "So what do we do with this information? How does it change things?"

His question immediately froze everyone in their worry and horror, bringing them to the present moment. "It doesn't." Kenny spoke up, giving Shawn an appreciating nod.

The discussion continued, with the group delving into the details of what happened in Macon. They talked about the walker attacks, the loss of Doug, the I.T guy, how Glen got stuck in the drug store with everyone else, and the difficult decisions they had to make. Alex remained mostly silent, his eyes distant, as the others recounted the events.

As the night wore on, Hershel could see the exhaustion etched on everyone's faces. He decided it was time to end the discussion, at least for now.

"Alright, folks," he said, his voice cutting through the ongoing conversation. "I think we've covered enough for tonight. You all need rest. We can continue this discussion tomorrow when we're all a bit more clear-headed."

There were nods of agreement around the room. The weight of the day's events and the revelations shared had taken their toll on everyone.

Hershel turned to the newcomers. "You can take the living room for tonight. Shawn, can you bring down some sleeping bags?"

Shawn nodded and headed upstairs to fetch the sleeping bags. As the Greene family began to move towards their rooms on the second floor, Alex spoke up.

"I'll sleep outside," he said quietly.

Hershel turned to him, concern evident on his face. "Son, there's no need for that. We have plenty of room in here."

Alex shook his head. "I appreciate it, but I... I need some air. I'll be fine on the porch."

Lee stepped forward, placing a hand on Alex's shoulder. "Are you sure about this? It's not exactly safe out there."

"I'm sure," Alex replied, his voice firm, remembering the ghost of scream he heard from Lilly. 'She didn't scream.' "I just... I need some space to think."

Kenny and Lee exchanged a worried glance, but they knew better than to push. After what Alex had been through, what he had done, it was understandable that he might want some solitude.

"Alright," Hershel conceded. "But take a sleeping bag and a weapon, just in case. And don't hesitate to come inside if you change your mind."

Alex nodded, "I wont." accepting a sleeping bag from Shawn and grabbing his backpack. Hershel wasn't sure what he answered, to not hesitate or to change his mind. As Alex headed towards the door, Glen called out to him.

"Hey, man. You know we're here if you need to talk, right?"

Alex paused at the door, his back to the group. For a moment, it seemed like he might say something, but instead, he just nodded slightly and stepped out into the night.

As the door closed behind him, the remaining group exchanged worried glances. The events in Macon had changed Alex. Even to Hershel, who knew the young man for two days at best, thought he had changed for worse. When he met him a day ago, Alex was full of life and while hesitant and a nervous reck, he seemed like someone who knew what he was doing.

Now?

Now, that young man had simply disappeared, instead, Alex had come from Macon as if he had given up.

Outside, Alex settled onto the back of his truck that was left untouched by the family, wrapping himself in the sleeping bag. He stared out into the dark sky, the only thing playing in his mind was what he did to Larry and Lilly. He could have called Kenny to stop, that she was attacked, but he did neither of them. Simply turned around and looked ahead.

"I'm really weak, huh." He muttered to himself, analysing every single action of himself and his thoughts and his mindset. He had two panic attacks back to back and if Glen wasn't there, the count would have jumped to three back in Macon.

Shaking his head, he tried to remember some inspiring quote or character from before he jumped in the simulation, but it came empty. There was no motivation phrase that could help him out. To ground him to reality, as funny as that was to Alex, due to the irony.

"Weak men need objective." He concluded, remembering his mission to save Lee. Remembering how Larry pushed him and caused him to snap. It would have been selfish to Alex to simply stick with the mission to lookout only for Lee as his mission status told him too. But remembering Clementine, Duck, Kenny and his family, Hershel and his's.

'Zeros and Ones.' The thought came but he shook it. "True." He muttered, as he breathed out, inhaling. "But even a normal guy falls in love with a character on screen."

Exhaling, "I'll try my best."

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Author Note:

Somewhat of a short chapter. Around 2.5k words.

This was mainly about 5k, but I decided to cut it in two. This chapter, I wanted to focus more on Alex's psychological impact of, well, getting betrayed, left to die, almost die and turn to walker, protect others, and finally, being responsible for taking a life, in the form of one Larry, while also being the cause of almost breaking the group.

I also wanted to show the characters that were left in farm's reaction to Alex killing in cold blood, especially at his age while pushing out another outside to be walker food.

I hope I did a good enough job regarding that. I also decided to remind the readers of the system since it wasn't being mentioned. I also corrected my mistake of not describing Alex, so, hopefully, the description I gave was good enough. Might post a picture or not, idk.

Another thing that was introduced was some of the main cast in the farms, such as Maggie, Beth (she was mentioned early on), and Hershel's second wife.

Next chapter, the next half of the series' cast will show themselves up. On the side note, I started episode 1 season 1 of Walking Dead. Gotta say, that little girl scene was freaky. I consider her a smart zombie for "baiting" rick with her doll.

And instead of slow walking, they speed walk... Just wanted to mention that.

Anyway, author out.

Hope you guys enjoyed it.

Walker puns/memes here.