TWD: The Burden We Bear

A/N: Man, you wouldn't believe how much I thought this chapter through. Ever since I started writing this fanfiction, I've been thinking about this part, the Crawford...arc(?), and I wanted Eddie to go something very traumatizing here, but I didn't know what. And this is what I came up with. Also, this might be the best chapter by far, and I probably won't write a good one like this. I gave this one all my heart.

As the door to the armory swung open, Eddie made the decision to exit the makeshift meeting area and venture into the hallways. As he scanned his surroundings, he found himself gravitating toward the double doors through which he and his crew had initially entered. Suddenly, Kenny and Brie burst through the entrance, each clutching a gas can.

"Little help here?!" Kenny shouted, urgency lacing his voice.

They hastily dropped the gas cans and the hatchet. In a frantic effort, Eddie, Kenny, and Brie pushed against the doors as a horde of walkers attempted to force their way inside; the doors snagged momentarily on a walker's head, creating a tense stalemate.

"Fuck, the doors won't close all the way!" Kenny cursed, panic rising in his tone.

Realizing the dire situation, Eddie swiftly snatched Kenny's pistol, aware that his own rifle was back at the house—a cumbersome weapon in this close-quarters fight. He pressed the muzzle against the walker's head and pulled the trigger, the gunshot echoing down the hallway. The door finally slammed shut.

"We got it!" Kenny exclaimed, relief washing over him.

"We gotta brace the doors," Eddie murmured, quickly retrieving the hatchet from the ground and wedging it between the handles.

"I hope this will hold 'em," he said, a hint of anxiety creeping into his voice.

"It damn well better," Kenny replied, glancing nervously at the growing throng of walkers outside.

"But there are so many of them," Brie said, her voice trembling slightly.

Eddie's gaze fell on the gas cans. "You got fuel?"

"Let's not start high-fiving each other just yet. We need to get back to the classroom. Give us a hand with these fuel cans—they weigh a goddamn ton," Kenny urged.

With a renewed sense of urgency, Eddie, Kenny, and Brie hauled the cans back to the classroom, their makeshift meeting room.

"How's it looking with the door?" Kenny inquired as they entered.

"It's open. I haven't gone in yet, though," Eddie replied.

"It's open? Great work, son," Kenny said, a smile breaking across his face as he patted Eddie on the shoulder.

Moments later, Vernon and Chuck returned, carrying medical supplies. However, the absence of Molly and Lee weighed heavily on everyone, especially after Vernon mentioned that Lee had assisted him and Chuck when they were trapped by a swarm of walkers.

Eddie stepped out of the classroom, only to collide with Molly and Lee as they turned the corner simultaneously.

"Whoa!" Eddie exclaimed, startled.

"Jesus!" Molly gasped, clutching her chest.

"Fuck!" Lee swore.

"You guys okay?" Eddie asked, eyeing them for injuries despite their apparent composure.

"Yeah, we're fine. We got the battery too," Lee said, gesturing to the heavy backpack slung over Molly's shoulder.

Just as Eddie opened his mouth to respond, a loud cracking noise reverberated through the hallway. "It better not be..." he muttered, shaking his head as he and the others turned to the glass double doors.

"It better not..." Eddie repeated, his voice weary.

But it was too late; the walkers had broken through the glass, their relentless weight shattering the fragile barrier. The hallway flooded with the groaning, grasping figures of the undead.

Molly instinctively took her weapon in hand, preparing to charge at the oncoming walkers, but Eddie grabbed her arm. "What the fuck are you doing? We gotta go!" he said, frustration boiling over as he pulled her along, and the trio sprinted back toward the classroom.

As they dashed through the door, Brie held it closed against the throng of walkers pressing in from the other side.

"What the fuck is going on?" Kenny shouted, panic evident in his tone.

"They're coming!" Lee warned, his eyes wide with fear.

"The fucking glass broke!" Eddie cursed, unsheathing his machete as he prepared for a fight.

"Oh, shit," Kenny said, his eyes darting around for an escape.

Eddie limped forward toward the armory, urgency propelling him. "I opened the armory; we can get through here."

"Great, then let's go!" Lee urged, following closely behind.

Suddenly, Brie screamed as a walker broke through the door, grabbing her. The creature's hands were upon her in an instant, biting down hard and tearing into her flesh with a horrific ferocity.

"Brie!" Vernon shouted, the panic in his voice palpable.

"Can we go now?" Molly pleaded, eyes wide with terror.

"Damn right! Vernon, come on!" Lee shouted, rallying the group.

In a desperate rush, they bolted through the armory door, Lee slamming it shut behind them.

"So much for the armory," Lee remarked, taking in the desolate scene around him. The room was empty, devoid of any weapons or supplies.

"What's left of it," Kenny muttered, frustration evident in his voice.

"For fuck's sake..." Eddie grumbled, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Just a few rounds," Chuck said, loading bullets into his revolver as the group steeled themselves for what lay ahead.

They descended the stairs and opened the door, only to be met by a wall of walkers that surged toward them. Lee quickly slammed the door shut again.

"Fuck!" Kenny exclaimed, his adrenaline surging.

"It's not gonna hold! Back upstairs!" Lee shouted, bracing himself against the door.

Meanwhile, Eddie spotted a rifle lying beside a nearby corpse and snatched it up as the others scrambled back upstairs. "Move it, Lee!" he urged, gesturing for him to hurry.

Lee hesitated, glancing back at Eddie's injured leg before nodding and following the others.

"I'll be fine, just fucking move!" Eddie insisted, his voice sharp with urgency.

As Lee ascended the stairs, Eddie began firing at the walkers pushing through the door. He backed up, shooting as he went, but one of his feet broke through a weakened step, momentarily trapping him. He grunted in frustration, alternating between firing his weapon and pulling his leg free. With a final heave, he extracted his foot and pressed on, only to find more walkers waiting for him at the top.

Chuck stepped up, dispatching several of the undead, allowing Eddie to draw his machete and fight his way up. His hatchet became lodged in the back of a walker's skull, and as he shoved the creature aside, it clung to his firearm. Eddie shook the gun, and after a few tense moments, the walker finally lost its grip and tumbled backward.

Reaching the top of the stairs, Eddie found the rest of the group waiting anxiously. Vernon peered out the window, scanning for threats.

"Come on!" Kenny urged, glancing back at Eddie.

"Any way out of here?" Lee asked, patting Eddie on the shoulder, relief flooding his features.

"This leads to the roof; we might be able to get down from there," Chuck suggested.

"You didn't come into town from the railroad, did you?" Vernon asked, catching Eddie off guard.

"The fuck does it matter?" Eddie shot back, impatience creeping into his voice.

"Never mind. I can see the sewer where we came in from here. I think we can do this," Vernon said, determination etched across his face.

"Well, what are we waiting for? Go! Go!" Kenny urged, urgency saturating his words.

One by one, everyone except for Kenny and Eddie climbed out, with Lee being the last to descend.

"Come on, son," Kenny called out to Eddie, his voice filled with concern.

But as they prepared to escape, the bell in the tower began tolling ominously. The rope swung back and forth, and one of the walkers hanging from it swung toward Eddie, grabbing him with a death grip. Kenny reacted instantly, shooting the walker, but the rope snapped, sending Eddie plummeting down. He reached out, desperate to catch the edge, but his fingers slipped, and he fell several meters.

"AAAAAH!" Eddie cried out as he plummeted.

As he fell, adrenaline surged through him, and he instinctively twisted to the side, trying to avoid a head-first landing. The maneuver worked to some extent, but he still crashed to the ground, his right arm breaking with a sickening crack.

As Eddie hit the ground, a jarring impact reverberated through his body, sending shockwaves of pain radiating through his right arm and several ribs. The moment his body connected with the unforgiving floor, he felt a sharp crack echo in his arm, and he knew immediately that it was broken. The air rushed out of his lungs as he gasped for breath, the sharp edges of pain. Almost instantly, he became acutely aware of his surroundings—the cacophony of moans and growls reached his ears, and as he struggled to rise, he realized he was surrounded by a sea of walkers, their decaying bodies swaying.

Eddie pushed himself up onto his left arm, trying to ignore the searing pain in his right. He could see dozens of walkers closing in, their vacant eyes fixed on him, their mouths agape, drool pooling as they staggered closer. Panic surged through him, but he forced himself to focus. He had faced danger before; he couldn't let fear dictate his next move.

With a desperate effort, he crawled backward, using his left arm to propel himself away from the encroaching horde. The ground was littered with debris—broken bricks, shattered glass, and remnants of what had once been a thriving school. He scanned the area for anything he could use as a weapon or a means of escape. Spotting a rusty metal pipe a few feet away, he lunged for it, ignoring the fresh pain coursing through his body. Grasping it tightly, he swung it at the nearest walker, the metal clanging against its skull. The creature stumbled back, but more quickly took its place.

Eddie knew he had to get to his feet. With sheer determination, he pushed against the ground, using his left arm to hoist himself up, wincing as his right arm dangled uselessly at his side. He took a deep breath, steadied himself, and began to weave through the mass of walkers, using the pipe to fend them off as best he could. Each swing felt laborious, and he could hear the heavy thud of his own heartbeat pulsing in his ears.

As he navigated through the walkers, he spotted an open doorway at the far end of the hallway. The sight gave him hope within him. Summoning every ounce of strength he had left, he sprinted toward it, dodging and weaving past the grasping hands of the undead. Each time a walker lunged at him, he swung the pipe, feeling the satisfying crunch as it connected with rotten flesh and bone.

Finally, he burst through the doorway and into the stairwell. The stairs were eerily quiet compared to the chaos outside, but Eddie didn't slow down. He hurriedly bounded down the steps, his breath coming in ragged gasps. As he reached the exit door leading outside, he pushed it open with a grunt, stumbling into the cool night air. He was free, but he knew he wasn't safe yet.

Eddie glanced back at the school, the sounds of the walkers can still be heard behind him. He turned and ran, the adrenaline coursing through him as he navigated the darkened streets of Crawford. He needed to put as much distance between himself and that hellhole as possible.

After what felt like an eternity of running, he finally found refuge in an abandoned apartment building. The door creaked ominously as he pushed it open, and he quickly slipped inside, leaning against the wall to catch his breath, taking a moment to collect himself.

As he sank down to the floor, exhaustion washed over him. He looked down at his right arm, and the sight made his heart drop. The skin was marred with angry bruises, and a deep ache radiated from the break. But what caught his attention was a fresh bite mark on his bicep, the skin torn and raw. Panic surged through him again.

Letting out a shaky, incredulous laugh, he muttered to himself, "Oooooh....fuck...FUCK!" The laughter quickly turned to a sobering realization as he ran a hand through his hair.

A bite. A fucking bite. The realization crashed over him like a wave. He could already picture the way his life would change—how he'd become one of them, a mindless husk, a monster.

"No, no, no!" he grasped his arm. Tears started to stings his eyes as his lips started tremble. "Fuck this shit....fuck!" Eddie starts sobbing. He can't believe that this is happening. He never thought he would get bit. Ever.

He got up from the ground, sniffing back snot, and wiping tears from his eyes. He stumbled into the kitchen, scanning the countertop cluttered with rusted utensils and moldy remnants of what used to be food. A half-broken mirror caught his eye, and an idea took shape. He needed something sharp, something to sever his arm. He grabbed the mirror, its jagged edge glinting.

His heart raced as he returned to the living room, where he could better brace himself. He sat on the floor, his situation crashing down around him. The bite throbbed, a relentless reminder of the time he had left. He took a deep breath, trying to quell the rising panic. He could do this. He had to.

Eddie found an old towel and ripped it into strips, creating makeshift bandages for after the cut. He wrapped them around his arm, trying to stop the trembling that threatened to overwhelm him. He steadied himself, the mirror shard shaking in his grasp as he positioned it against the skin just above the bite.

With a deep breath, he pressed down. The glass bit into his flesh. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to focus. He couldn't think about the pain; he needed to think about survival.

As he pulled the shard across his skin, blood poured from the wound, and he fought the urge to scream. The world around him blurred; he was in a tunnel of pain. He pushed through, the glass slicing deeper until he felt the bone beneath. He had to get through.

Finally, with one last, desperate pull, he broke through. The sound was sickening, a mixture of crunch and squelch that echoed off the walls. He gasped, tears streaming down his face as he severed the tendons, the pain blinding. He threw the shard aside, his arm falling limp at his side.

Eddie grabbed the strips of cloth, wrapping them tightly around the bloody stump. The pressure helped, and as the darkness threatened to close in, he focused on breathing. In and out. He was alive. He was still alive.

He leaned back against the wall, his heart pounding in his chest. The bite had been severed. As the adrenaline faded, exhaustion took over, and he allowed himself a moment to rest. The pain would come, and he would have to find a way to keep moving. Eddie closed his eyes, clinging to the fragile hope that he could still find a way to live.