Chapter Text
Everyone knew the Major had a son. His name was William Stebbins, but everyone just called him Stebbins.
He was about eighteen and had never had a girlfriend but he avoided giving out personal information so that was all simply guess work.
He was the captain of his school's track and field team back in Washington.
He showed up for press events on a semi-regular basis and looked bored out of his mind every time and refused to talk to the point it was widely speculated that he could be mute until he was thirteen which was when he began to show up for the last day of the long walk where he would stand by his father every year and he would talk and chat at times, it was the only time anyone could capture a picture of him with a genuine grin.
He was an only child so everyone accepted that he was bound to take over as Major when his father passed.
While every man is meant to strive to be the Major, every boy is meant to want to be like William Stebbins.
Nobody knew that the Major didn’t want a son and he made that very clear to Stebbins. Who would want a son who insisted on being called by his mothers last name?
Stebbins was actually seventeen but correcting anyone felt too nitpicky. They were right in saying he had never had a girlfriend because he had not even the slightest interest in one.
He was the captain of his school's track and field team back in Washington but he was very close to getting that title removed with how often he skipped school. He learned nothing so why bother showing up?
He had to be forced to go to press events but somehow still managed to go to as little as possible and when he did, made it completely obvious that he was bored out of his mind every time so they could all know he wasn't enjoying himself.
He didn't mean to stay silent, when he was little he was over medicated to the point he could barely think, it kept him quiet, he wasn’t meant to speak when little, he knew things he shouldn’t. When the dosages were mostly fixed he just didn’t want to talk to anyone because it’s hard to have a normal conversation when everyone is obsessed with your father. But there was one upside in all of this,
The Long Walk.
Stebbins loved the event dearly, he used to beg to go until he was finally allowed to start going when he turned thirteen. It was like Christmas to him. He lived for it and it was the only time he felt actually happy, as well as being the only time the Major was proud of him. He was highly disappointed though with the fact he was only allowed to show up for the final day.
Stebbins was an only child so he had no choice in becoming the next Major, as much as he complained about how he felt on the matter no one ever listened to him.
William Stebbins didn’t want to be who he was.
He didn’t know why everyone wanted to be like him.
Sometimes he just wanted to die and not have to deal with any of this anymore.
“William”
The Major spoke in that gruff tone which made his back straighten in an instant. He was trying to have breakfast and usually he was alone for that. The Major often had left by now and ‘The Help’ was not allowed to talk too much.
“Yes, sir?” Stebbins asked as he pushed the eggs around on his plate (another thing he hated was the diet, he hadn’t had anything sugary in weeks) the major sat down across from him and smiled, Stebbins eyes looked up and then dropped back down, “what have I done this time?” he mumbled putting his plate to the side. The Major shook his head “Jesus, you act like all I do is fucking punish you. Do you think you’re Cinderella?”
“No, I don’t get to clean, do I?”
“No you don’t, and you should be grateful for that.”
“Yes, I’m grateful” he responded hesitantly
“Good, so the walks coming up, you’re aware of that.” Stebbins' eyes darted to the calendar on the wall, no one changed the page it still read March, though it was about the 25th of April.
“very aware, sir.” The Major nodded “and since you’re the next Major, we’d like you to join this year as a soldier”
"How'd you come up with that? You do jack shit but make speeches and kill a single child out of the 50 on the walk. It’s a publicity stunt, I’ve not been performing as I should, am I right or wrong?”
The major stood and walked over to Stebbins, he gripped his jaw and covered his mouth “no one likes a smart ass, do you know what would happen if anyone else talked like that to me?!” He pinched Stebbins nose, they both stayed quiet for awhile before Stebbins began to squirm, he nodded rapidly.
The Major finally let go and he gasped for air, a woman wordlessly walked in, took his plate and left. “This wasn’t an offer, I’m telling you.” Stebbins nodded, eyes watering,
“Yes, sir” he rasped.
So that’s how Stebbins ended up with the Major at a televised press event in Maine the day before the walk. He didn’t enjoy wearing the tacky makeup and gaudy formal wear or having to talk about himself. but it was going to be fine, no one will see the bruises, no one will comment on how I dress, everyone is more focused on the walk,
And it was all going to be so fucking fine.
“So, Stebbins, are you excited to be acting as a member of the squads this year?” The Major asked and Stebbins nodded and fixed his posture realising that the cameras were tracking him “of course I am, it’s a great privilege to be able to do such. The long walk is the national pass time after all. How could I not be excited to see it in person? And I am most proud to be considered a member of the squad- even if just for a few days! They are the bravest individuals our country has.” He grinned in the way where he showed teeth like he was taught to and the Major put a hand on his shoulder and laughed and Stebbins knew that was the right answer. Media training does the world of good, they’ll put that in the fucking paper Stebbins thought.
Stebbins had to ride up with the other squad members, most of them seemed to hate him or were trying to suck up to him.
He didn't care.
He cared more about how scratchy the uniforms felt, he knew they were ugly but he didn’t think they would be that uncomfortable, why the hell do they wear such thick fabric in this god damn heat?! I have to wear this for a few days- at least I get to shower and change, walkers don’t get that privilege.
Eventually they got to the drop off point and as the Squad members discussed what would be happening during the day Stebbins allowed himself to walk off and lie in the grass, he remembered doing the same thing outside his old home when he was very little, his momma used to say it was impossible to keep him inside. He loved spring when it was just cool enough and the flowers were in bloom. But Maine's no Texas that’s for sure he reminded himself and covered his eyes from the sun, he could feel the migraine already setting in but he couldn’t be bothered putting on his sunglasses. Thank god he talked his father out of covering up his bruises and scars today he would have felt like he was melting.
He woke up to the sound of chatter, Stebbins thought they sounded like little birds, I had chickens once didn’t I? Back when- oh god I don’t know. He stood up and stretched, letting out small groans. A boy with a scar over his face looked at him “oh sleeping beauty’s awake, didn’t know squad members could sleep in the grass, Olson, any rules about that?” the boy, he could guess to be Olson laughed “I don’t think that happens often enough for it to be a rule, honestly I don’t think rules apply to him though” Stebbins didn’t speak he stared at them before putting in his sunglasses. A ginger boy decided to speak up “I think he’s not up to talking” Stebbins crossed his arms and rolled his eyes “we are expressly told not to talk to the walker as to not-”
oh who gives a fuck?! He thought before continuing
“-Break their concentration, but personally? I just don’t want to talk to you” a boy with a cross around his neck laughed “Majors’ boy thinks he’s too rich for us.”
The boys laughed as Stebbins walked over to the half tracks where the other squad members sat, two of them helped Stebbins up then they continued to chat, ignoring him.
The Majors half track eventually pulled up, he moved to stand beside it as he was told he would be the one handing out tags, The Major would make small talk with the Walkers though there was one he barely even looked at, the ginger boy from earlier. Stebbins handed him his tag and awkwardly muttered ‘good luck’ to him, the boy nodded in response. “You shouldn’t of said that, his father was a rebel- at least a want to be rebel” The Major whispered and Stebbins allowed a small smile play on his lips
“Don’t you say a word.” The Major spoke only loud enough for him to hear and glared at him.
The rebels will be here this year because I’m here. I don’t exactly think he’s a rebel though, he's just a kid my age.
“-we will be number one in the world again!” It's the same speech every year, Stebbins knew it backwards and forwards and could probably say it in Latin and French. He didn’t pay any attention to it anymore, he just waited until the gun shot rang out and walked over to the half track he was told he would be staying on for today.
Stebbins found himself looking at the ginger boy, Raymond Garraty, he remembered. He found himself hoping he wouldn’t get his ticket, mostly just because the Major always rooted against the walkers with rebels for parents.
Him and his friends were discussing warnings and Stebbins laughed as a blonde boy took a warning while trying to take ‘a fucking rock out of his shoe’ Stebbins stopped laughing when he was handed a carbine, he was meant to make the first kill, that had totally slipped his mind. Something symbolic about him taking the first kill and the Major doing the last, he wasn’t listening hard to what he was told so he wasn’t quite sure if that was the real reason.
He hopped off the half track and stood by the boy while checking the chronometer pocket watch, his own hands shook as the boy reached his third warning.
Stebbins wasn’t made to kill, he had a decent shot but he didn’t even like hunting animals, let alone humans.
The boy (was it Barkovitch?) had a look of fear on his face that probably matched Stebbins’ own, the boy stood up and ran away from him and Stebbins didn’t move for a moment, the carbine was still shakily aimed at where the boy's head was. “Not getting me today fucko!” The boy yelled back and Stebbins finally went to sit back down on the half track.
“You will have to shoot someone, you know that right?” A squad member questioned and Stebbins nodded “yeah, obviously doesn’t mean I have to want to!” “Maybe you’re too soft for this, how about-“
“Oh, shut the fuck up!” Stebbins yelled
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“Nobody signs up for this, not really.” The rebels' son was getting too political, this is being streamed on every television in the country, even if he dies, his family will be punished, Stebbins was all too familiar with how it worked.
“It’s not smart to talk bad about the long walk” he spoke without realising, a group of boys looked up to him and he continued “well, that’s descent and it’s punishable by sq-“
“Then shoot me” Garraty piped up
“You going to shoot him? You have the carbine.” The boy with the scar- McVries maybe?- added and he didn’t respond
“Didn’t think so.” McVries(?) chuckled before they continued their conversations and Stebbins went back to watching the fields by the road.
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“Warning, Warning number seven!” A robotic voice rang out, number seven was a small boy. He had to be too young, he looked fourteen. Stebbins was still far from him but he was screaming about ‘a Charlie horse’ and Garraty had to be playing god, it was beginning to annoy him, the boys around were helping him too, no one wants to see him die, he’s so little.
I don’t want to shoot him!
He fell to the floor and he began to ritualistically chant that ‘it ain’t fucking fair’ it seemed pretty fair to Stebbins, though he didn’t particularly like it and curly definitely didn’t either. Once again he was handed a gun and he pointed against curly’s head. The boy covered his head and continued to scream, Stebbins didn’t need to check his watch, he had his three warnings.
Stebbins closed his eyes (not advised) and shakily took a shot. It wasn’t clean in the slightest, it shot from the side of his head and through his cheek. Stebbins could tell the boy was still alive, still groaning. Stebbins felt tears running down his face and looked at the shocked walkers and then to the unfazed squad members before sitting back down on the half track. Stebbins handed back the carbine off to someone and reached up to wipe the tears off his cheek only to realise it wasn’t tears. He had brain and blood on his face and clothes, even some in his hair.
He wanted to scream, to cry, to vomit. He looked over to the Major for something, anything, but he only got a scolding look for the bad shot and he began to tell the walkers about how ‘today they will be walking for curly’
Stebbins was sure his father would beat him later for that shot.