To say that Annie had seen some shit in her lifetime was an understatement. But her time in the desert, both as a marine and a private contractor had nothing on the way the world collapsed, crumbling under their feet. That threat--call them walkers, ghouls, zombies-- the enemy that they faced had changed the game unimaginably.

Annie adapted.

Annie had always adapted. She's already scouted out this compound location well before she had been spotted. It had seemed like a worthwhile raid target at first, protected more against the flesh eating threat than the one that was just looking to get by. The human element was as big a danger sometimes, she'd have been, but then she had also recognized him up in his makeshift guard tower. Reiner Braun was two hundred plus pounds of muscle and determination. He'd been a part of the security detachment her contract had her consulting for.

He carried a lot of the same sins she did.

She'd thought they'd died out there, the night they'd been separated. She imagines they'd thought the same-- or maybe not they, she catches herself thinking. She hasn't seen Bertolt.

What she didn't expect was for him to do everything. Drop his guard, rush out there, and she barely knows how to react when strong, surprisingly comforting and wrap around her. She goes rigid, unresponsive, locking up because--

"What the hell, Braun-" she hisses. They're outside. Dammit, they're vulnerable here. Hell, he couldn't know she wasn't infected, slowly, but inevitably losing it to that threat. He didn't know if she had gone half feral on them, like the people that just couldn't hack it in this world and snapped entirely. He didn't know anything, so why the fuck what he crushing her to his chest.

She doesn't know why she's shaking, trembling in his hold.