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[peachfuzz]

Connie had a terrible habit of wandering without notifying anyone that he'd be doing it. If no one ran into him while he was prepping to go, and asked what he was up to, he would leave people guessing when the last time they saw him was. He never planned on making anyone worry, of course, but Connie had long since gotten used to doing things on his own and though he liked the crowd he now ran with at the compound, it never occurred to him to report something like this to them.

It had only happened a few times in the month and a half since his arrival, and until then the longest he'd spent out was two nights. With all the fuss that was kicked up over that, he'd then tried to limit his outings to afternoon excursions or something that would get him in early the next morning before anyone realised he'd been gone at all, but this time he got distracted and ventured further without thinking on who might be wondering about his absence.

And so this time, it had been twelve days since anyone had last seen him.

He came back mid-morning with his old school backpack he'd managed to hang onto despite everything on one shoulder and a newly found but dirtied neon orange messenger bag over the other. Both were packed full of his findings, and he was chewing on some turkey jerky he'd uncovered in his travels as he strutted back into familiar territory.

His shirt had an entirely new tear in it, from getting snagged in a tree branch on his way down from where he'd been sleeping one night, and his hair tie had broken, leaving his mass of hair bobbing with every step, but Connie was, in fact, completely okay.

Comments

[notvaljean]

It's hard work, pretending not to give a shit when your friend is missing.

Jean knows Connie likes to go wandering, and he also knows that Connie can take care of himself. Still, as the days stretch into a week, and then two, he feels a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, one that won't go away. The nightmares start up again, and he even has to sink to creeping into Marco's bed in the middle of the night, just to get cuddled so everyone else can sleep.

By the time the two week mark rolls around, Jean has almost stopped looking for Connie when he draws watch, and has almost accepted that he'll never see his friend again. So when he spots someone strolling towards the compound, he doesn't immediately think it's Connie. It could just be a particularly stylish walker, and he gets ready to get off the roof and go stab it in the eye if it gets near the fence. But it's not moving like a walker, and when it starts getting closer, Jean realizes that he knows that strut. He knows the strut, and the hair poofing out everywhere, and he can't help the bright, excited grin that spreads across his face.

"Connie!" He yells it loud enough to alert the rest of the compound, and vaults down off the roof to run to the gate. "Connie, you stupid fucker, where've you been?!"

[peachfuzz]

"Hey Jean!"

It would be hard to miss a shout like that, and even harder to miss the voice attached to it. Connie looks up, pushing his hair back from his forehead so he can actually see Jean as he's coming down from the roof, letting it fall again to wave.

It was a wonder he didn't get blindsided by a zombie when all that hair was in the way, but it was rare any of them ever came from above, and silently on top of that, so he'd managed to get by unscathed.

"Dunno," he admitted, and picked up the pace to catch up to Jean as the gates open, dropping his bags from his shoulders so he could stretch them out. He'd gone all morning without a break. "Someone stole, like, all the signs in the town I was in. Kinda weird, right?"

[notvaljean]

“Connie, you incorrigible fuck.” It’s impossible for Jean to keep the relief out of his voice, and as soon as he has the gate closed behind his friend, he’s slinging a rare, companionable arm around his shoulders. It’s not often that Jean seeks out any kind of physical reassurance or reaches out to anyone physically besides Marco, and the one-armed hug he gives Connie is as awkward as it is brief. “You can’t just take off like that, man!” he tells him as he pulls his arm back. “Sasha’s been a giant bitch to everyone, Bertolt’s been moping, Marco’s taking extra watches just in case you came back, and I…” He pulls himself up to his full height, looking down at his friend imperiously. “I have been the sole provider of hashtags and trending around here, and it’s been difficult to keep up. Hashtag: don’t do that again.”

He missed you, Connie. Really.

[peachfuzz]

"Obviously I can take off just like that. Hashtag suck it nerd."

He felt bad to hear that people had been missing him, but talking to Jean left it hard for him to linger on that for long. He returns the hug with a solid pat to Jean's shoulder.

"But I probably won't, 'cause man I am mad tired of exploring. I mean, yeah, I'm gonna be buff as hell from carrying those bags everywhere but is it really worth it?" Not that he wasn't already well and fit from the past few months spent keeping himself safe, but he was convinced those bags would seem heavy no matter what. "And you gotta tell me, what has been trending, dude?"

[notvaljean]

Ah yes, proper manly forms of bonding. Awkward hugs and shoulder pats for life. Finally, someone who gets it.

Jean steps aside, holding his hand out to take one of those heavy bags, if Connie wants to part with it. "What'd you find? And lately, the biggest trends have been everyone worrying about your dumb ass."

Himself included, although he won't admit it.