Dean & Sykes Collab
After leaving Riley, Dean headed towards the back of the complex. There was an old tennis court back there, though it was overgrown, weeds poking through cracks in the hardcourt, the color barely distinguishable under the cover of thick dirt and mud. He didn't imagine the court had gotten much use before the apocalypse, and even now he'd never seen another person come back here besides himself. That suited him just fine, though. He was still rankled over Conner's accusations, and if he was going to continue to play the Guy Everyone Wants to Follow Back to DC, to finish his job, he needed to keep a clear head.
So he found a bench off to the side of the court, brushed a spider away, and sat, finishing the remainder of jerky in his pocket, then scarfing down another granola bar. It wasn't very filling, admittedly, but it was enough to keep him going. He wouldn't cut into the group's dwindling supplies until he'd contributed to it first. Spreading his arms along the back of the bench, Dean sighed, squinting up into the still-overcast sky. Summer was over, and though Louisiana (especially this part) rarely actually got cold, Autumn would bring the rains… something that was heralded by the light drizzle that had persisted all morning. It wasn't even enough to get you wet, but it was a marker of what was to come. They were in the middle of peak hurricane season right now… and though there hadn't been any huge natural disaster in the last year, the thought still made him uneasy. He didn't want to be here any longer than he had to be. Which meant that Evie - and now, Riley - were his shot at getting everyone to go along with the DC plan
Palming his face, Dean groaned and leaned forward, stretching his arms out in front of him. He was restless. Staying in one spot while he was on the road was something he rarely did. Usually, when he had some downtime, he spent it clearing buildings, gathering supplies, and dispatching Infected. He didn't like just sitting around. So, to keep his curiosity and boredom in check, he decided to wander through one of the half-finished buildings in the complex. The moment he stepped through the doorway of the first one he came across, he heard noises. Hand on his gun just as a habit, Dean stepped through a doorway, turned, and was met with the sight of the masked man sitting before a makeshift workbench. Immediately moving his hand away from his gun, Dean lifted it in a greeting. "Hey. Didn't think anyone was in here, sorry."
Sykes lifted his head from the workbench and looked back at Dean. "Oh, it's fine, it doesn't really matter if I'm going to be honest. Just… thinking… to myself..." He acted differently, as if all of a sudden he'd changed.
"I wouldn't do too much of that," Dean said with a tight smile. "Spend too much time in your head and you'll never be able to escape. Learned that the hard way myself." Crossing the room, he went to a window, peeking through the blinds to outside. Seeing nothing of interest, he turned back. "So, uh, what's with the mask?"
"It keeps me alive… but it also hides my guilt I recovered over this apocalypse…" Sykes had felt like venting to someone about his issue for a while, just wasn't strong enough to admit how weak minded he is.
Something akin to sympathy flashed across Dean's gaze for a split second before vanishing. "Like I said… might wanna spend some time outside that head of yours for a while." His voice grew low and serious. "We've all done things we regret. But moving forward, always, is the goal… and you can't accomplish that without letting things go." It was something he often had to repeat to his students. You always move forward, let the past be in the past. It was harder for some of the kids to grasp, because of age, and inexperience with the harsh realities of life, but Sykes was not a child, and it looked like he had plenty of experience with those realities.
Pausing for a moment to let that sink in, Dean let the usual lightness return to his tone and expression. "These are good people here, from what I see. They welcomed us to stay and ask nothing in return. If I were you, I'd make an effort to show that it's appreciated. Make some friends. Maybe that'll help you out of that hole."
"You have no idea what I've done… I was happy once… then I turned into a freak…" he took off the mask for a moment to show what he meant, and a burnt face greeted Dean. "Before this whole outbreak people would stare, point, and were afraid of me. The only people I had were my gang… they were family… my family…" he coughed for a good second then continued.
"They didn't treat me like an outcast… or like an animal… I was family to them. My little sister, and them were my everything… then the outbreak started." He clenched his fists. "I come to see them turned and walking toward me, of course I didn't know what they were doing till they started to attack me… they treated me with love and comfort… and what did I do? I drive a machete into their skulls…" he stopped for a minute to think, trying to hold back the tears. "Do you know what it's like to drive a machete… into your little sister's head… then struggle to get it out? 'Cause I have… she was my everything… I promised her nothing will ever happen to her! AND I KILLED HER!" He broke and started to sob again.
Dean's expression hardened. If there was one thing that spelled disaster for a community, it was instability. You were only as strong as the weakest member, and right now, Sykes' mentality was a very serious threat to both him and the rest of the group. He'd seen psychotic breaks before, and they all started very similar to this. "Those things you killed weren't your family. You know that. You didn't infect them. You had no control over that. You put them out of their misery. You did them a favor."
"I failed to protect them… you're right, though, they weren't my family anymore, it hurt to kill them…" he coughed violently, then put his mask back on. After a minute of calming down he went back to his old self. "So why are you here?"
"I was… bored," Dean admitted. "Not used to being in one place for so long." He leaned against a wall, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I didn't think there would be anyone else in these half-completed houses, so figured I'd snoop around a bit. Maybe if we can patch up some holes, fix some floors, these would be more habitable."
"Maybe, but I rely more on security more than comfort. I have a base not far from here, plenty of food and other supplies, but most importantly what I have there is another survivor… her name's Tess, I told her if I were to disappear to hide in that base… we need to get her…" he seemed worried but calm at the same time.
Surprised, Dean fell quiet. "Have you told anyone else?"
"No I haven't, in case they were bad people and wanted to kill me and take my stuff, but it seems I was wrong. But the thing is about my place, its booby trapped to the wire… I'm sure you understand my reasons. Don't worry, if Tess is there she can disarm… ehh most of 'em."
"That's something you should probably tell the others. If it's anywhere back near Minden, you're gonna need more than just you to retrieve her. I doubt that horde has moved off already."
"It's not far from here, but yeah, it's between here and minden… so I'm guessing we'll come across a few lurkers… and the trip's worth it, with all the stuff I have and or crafted…"
"Alright, well, there should be a meeting soon - it would be a good place to bring something like that up."
"Yea… I got things to do anyway…" he walked past Dean then looked back. "And Dean… thank you…" Sykes smiled and walked away. Dean had something that most people didn't, and that was Sykes' respect. He'd been holding in that guilt since this whole thing started, and now that Dean came, he felt better, he felt happy.
