A/N: I wanted to give Gareth a backstory in honor of TWD Season 5 Premiere. He's a wonderfully written, sinister character, so I thought I should write a little OneShot on him. What if Gareth wasn't always the cannibalistic psycho he is now? I just took the pieces of his flashbacks in the episode and formed a little story for him. Reviews are lovely!

How To Save A Life

"All things truly wicked start from innocence."

— Ernest Hemingway

Gareth stared at Rick Grimes, Daryl Dixon, and Bob Stookey.

They had black gags tied around and inside their mouths to keep them quiet. The butchers behind them were doing their job. The loud crack of the aluminum bat hitting the skull of a newcomer resounded in the room, followed by the quick slash of his throat over the trough.

Bob was squealing behind the gag, muttering something over and over. Gareth rolled his eyes and stepped forward, yanking Bob's gag out of his mouth. The man took short, sharp intakes of breath. The same panicked looks were plastered all over their faces.

It made Gareth sick.

"You don't have to do this. We can fix this. We don't deserve this. We…we know the cure. We can go down to Washington to figure it all out and stop this thing. Just let us go, you don't have to do this…"

Gareth just stared with an annoyed, but troubled, look on his face. The bitterness in his expression was obvious.

It was always the same song and dance. "You don't have to do this", "don't kill us", "we can fix this". The begging never changed. Why should he give them a chance? No one ever gave her a fucking chance. She didn't deserve what happened to her.

"No, please…not again…please...please, God! God, please help!"

The sound of Spencer's bloodcurdling screams resounded like a never-ending echo inside the confines of his skull. It haunted him, and it possessed him. It kept him awake at night. It was the reason for the rings of blue and black under his eyes from lack of sleep.

Those screams had ripped through his eardrums each and every time they dragged her out of his arms and out of that train car. Listening and watching those men violate her had felt like hundreds of knives stabbing him in the chest all at once. It killed him to hear and see her in such agony and misery.

She'd try to hide inside his arms, away from them, but they always looked for her.

The dreaded sound of the heavy train car door would disrupt the eerie silence inside the train car. The door would slide open, and Gareth could feel her body trembling against his. It was a violent kind of shaking. He could feel her hot tears against the cold skin of his neck as he encompassed her within his arms.

"Shh," He'd whisper into her hair, rubbing her back with his palm to soothe her. "It's okay. Shh."

The flashlight would flicker on, and the attackers would be searching and looking at the females in the car.

The attackers always went for the prettiest and the youngest, or who they believed to be the weakest. They almost always stopped at Spencer, her young and sad eyes staring into the light with terror like a deer caught in headlights. She'd tremble violently even more so, burying her face in Gareth's chest as he encircled her in his arms protectively.

Nothing was more comforting to her than the warmth of Gareth's body pressing to hers, keeping her shielded from the vile world outside his arms. Unfortunately, Gareth's efforts to hide Spencer did little good.

"That one." An attacker would say, his flashlight on Spencer, and two more of them would stumble into the car.

"Gareth, no…please, don't let them take me…Gareth! God in Heaven, no!" She would scream between sharp intakes of breath as they physically ripped her out of his arms.

"Spencer! Spencer!" He'd scream after her, yelling at those sadistic savages until his vocal cords were shredded to ribbons. "Let her go, just let her go. She's pregnant, for Christ's sakes! She's fucking pregnant!"

They'd ignore his desperate pleas, every single time. They dragged her like a corpse out of that train car, by her wrists, like she wasn't human. Like she was cattle ready to be brought to slaughter.

He had tried to fight back many times, to save her, but they had beat him. That was the reasoning behind the massive black and blue bruising on his left eye. There was nothing he could do but scream and yell and threaten them as they violated her right in front of him and forced him to watch.

Sheer infuriation radiated through his body and his blood boiled. He couldn't do anything to save her.

Absolutely nothing. And for that he was ashamed.

What kind of boyfriend was he to Spencer, and what kind of father was he to their baby? What kind of man was he that he couldn't defend them? What kind of man couldn't defend the woman he loved and his own child?

She had cried and screamed so hard that Gareth was surprised she didn't collapse from exhaustion. He watched her swollen, pregnant belly heave up and down with sobs as she cried.

The anger and horrible thoughts of revenge that rampaged through his mind shocked and appalled him. He would slaughter those men in the worst, most diabolical way when he got the chance. He'd cut them to pieces and grind their bones into sawdust. He would make them suffer, and make them die slowly.

But then he thought of Spencer.

"You're a good man," She'd tell him before the take over of Terminus happened, those innocent eyes staring into his dark, troubled ones. "You are. You don't believe it, I know you don't. But you should."

Nothing was more difficult than watching her squirm and wail like a banshee as they savagely and quickly pulled up the hem of her dress and ripped down her underwear, tearing one side in the process. She sobbed, screaming in pain as they raped her.

Spencer was the attackers' favorite.

It made Gareth want to explode with blind hatred, knowing he could not defend her. He could not even begin to fathom how much pain and humiliation she was going through. She was being violated and beaten by psychotic, massive post-apocolyptic survivalists that they could not battle.

On the nights when they came for her, they'd do their terrible act, then they'd throw her back to Gareth and Alex like she was a rag doll. Her body would be limp. She would be exhausted from the toll the assault took on her body, and the amount of crying she had done. She would cry, but Gareth would stay up all night with her, running his hands through her hair.

He'd cradle her in his arms, telling her that she was going to be okay, that he was there, that he'd get them out of this place. That he'd take Terminus back. He stayed up with her all night until she drifted off into sleep in the comfort of his arms.

Gareth prayed to God—if there even was one—that he would hear his prayers to make this stop. He prayed he would be able to see her laugh again, and for her to make him feel happy like she used to before all this Terminus shit began.

Before all of this, it had been Alex, and Gareth, and Spencer, walking through Georgia looking for sanctuary. They'd began Terminus, an idea that Spencer had brought about, to create a safe, nurturing sanctuary where survivors could come to live. It had been fine at first. Until the attackers took Terminus over.

Spencer had grounded him, kept him sane, and kept him human in the repulsive, vile world that had consumed the Earth.

She was always uplifting, and always reminding him to be balanced and kind and considerate of those around him. She'd point out that things weren't as bad as they seemed.

That is, until they were captured and thrown into the train car they were now in, and those psychopaths had repeatedly raped, hit, and humiliated her.

The world had spit her optimism, hope, and faith back in her face. Gareth hadn't seen her smile or laugh, or had barely even heard her talk in weeks. The light from her eyes was out, and Gareth feared that it was permanent.

She was of normal build, but with good muscle tone to her body. Ringlets of soft, sandy blonde hair framed her face and light freckles were scattered on her upper cheekbones. She was a simple kind of pretty, the kind of pretty where she didn't even really realize it. She was only twenty-three, six years younger than Gareth himself. She had this innocent looking face, though, that pretty much matched her personality. She was always so optimistic and naive, and Gareth had warned her before that it wasn't an attribute that would get her through the post-apocolyptic, sadistic, fucked-up world.

"In spite of everything, I truly believe that people are still good at heart." She'd said him while they were out in the woods one late afternoon hunting. It was shortly after they'd opened Terminus.

She was balancing on a fallen tree as he walked on the ground beside her, looking at her with a smirk on his face, slightly amused.

She had looked so beautiful, even in that tattered white dress and careworn jean jacket. Her brown cowboy boots were scuffed and torn from running from hundreds of walkers over the last year. Even so, Gareth couldn't help look at her. God, he had loved that girl. She was glowing in the afternoon light, the setting autumn sun peeking between the barren branches in the woods.

"Bullshit," Gareth had scoffed. "Come on, Spence. Be reasonable. You can't really believe that there are good people left. Look at some of the groups we passed on our way to where we are now. I mean, there are okay people. Decent people, maybe. But not truly good people. Everyone is out for themselves. There are no good people anymore."

"There are still good people, Gareth," She'd said, laughing a little. She entangled her hand in his. "I'm looking at one. You are still good. You're a good man. Look at what you've done. You've helped so many people find sanctuary. You've changed and saved lives. I don't think a bad man would do that."

He didn't say anything. He'd looked at her with bewilderment. Even when everything seemed fucked up and dark and depressing, she was there to remind him that there was still good in the world. She was his salvation, there to remind him that she was there and that he was still okay, that he was still sane. And as he looked at her, he promised himself he'd never let that light leave her eyes or that innocence disappear from her face. He swore to himself that much.

She smiled a little at him and took his hand away from the pistol he was holding.

She brought his hand to her ever-growing abdomen, his fingers spreading out over the fabric of her dress as his hand rested there. He could feel the bump. He swore it was growing bigger by the day. Mary, Gareth and Alex's mother, guessed that she was about 20 weeks pregnant. The pregnancy was going quite well, and every single day Gareth realized just how lucky of a bastard he was to be with Spencer, and that there was a little one on the way.

"What about her?" She asked quietly, looking up at him from her stomach. "Isn't she good?"

Gareth sighed and smiled a little. He loved how Spencer could make a point that she knew he couldn't disagree with. "She'll be good."

"Your mom thinks that it's gonna be a little girl."

"I wouldn't doubt it." He said, looking at her stomach. A smile spread across his lips at the thought. "Holy…holy shit. A baby girl. I can't believe…I don't know. I can't believe I'm going to be father. It's so surreal. We're going to be parents, Spencer. Parents. I guess I never thought that it was possible after everything that's happened."

Spencer arched her eyebrow and her smile widened. "It's…it's kind of beautiful, isn't it? At least that's what I think, you know? In a world, this world, that now harbors such hatred and death, two people were able to come together despite the hatred and death. And by coming together, we defied the world and we created life and love. It's extraordinary, I think. I don't know, I'm rambling. I guess that's just the way I see things. Is that stupid?"

Gareth smiled at her and shook his head. "You're going to make an incredible mother."

She shrugged. "I'll be alright. You're going to be a good dad to our little girl, Gareth, because you're a good man. You've got to remember that. Remember I told you that, okay? Always believe it."

He only smiled a little at her. He didn't know if he believed it. He wished he could be as good as she thought he was.

She sighed. "Only a few more months."

"Only a few more months."

Spencer sat down on the fallen tree, looking up at Gareth. He stared down at her. He reached down and brushed the blond hair out of her eyes. "What's the matter?"

"You've got to promise me something, okay?"

Gareth furrowed his brows at her. "Anything."

The expression on her face and her voice was too serious and dark for his liking. She cleared her throat. What she was about to say seemed as though it wasn't easy for her to choke out.

"I know there's no sedatives and there's no medication for me when the baby arrives. There's no doctor, no nothing. You're going to have to help me deliver it. It's going to be difficult and it's going to be really, really painful. If I can't take it…I mean, if the time comes that you've got to choose between me and the baby..." Spencer said, staring at the ground, "I…I want you to choose the baby over me. Okay?"

"Jesus Christ—" He snapped, but he took a breath to collect himself. "You can't ask me to do that. Don't ask me to do that. That's not going to happen. I won't let it. We'll get you through that delivery, no matter what it takes. I'll be right there beside you."

"I know you will, but I need you to promise me anyway."

He looked at her with arched eyebrows. "Spencer—"

"Please."

Her eyes were watering. It surprised him how upset she was getting over this, so he broke down. Gareth looked at her with sad eyes.

"Alright. I promise."

He wished he could be back in that moment. Even for a second. Just to see her fresh, clean face, looking up at him.

Tears brimmed his eyes now as he watched her sob, curled up onto the floor of the train car with her tattered old dress pulled up, the fabric bunched up around her hips.

Her face was red from embarrassment. Her hair was in a disarray, and her cheeks were streaked with dirt, blood, sweat and tears. Gareth choked out a sob, too, and reached out to her now-frail body. He gathered her to him, pulling her as gently as he could into him. As he sat on the cold wooden floor of the boxcar, she laid between his legs, her head leaning against his chest. Blood stained the side of her head.

"It hurts so badly," She murmured, her voice hoarse and her eyes closed. "Gareth, it hurts."

He furrowed his eyebrows in worry, cradling her. "I know. I know. It's all over, baby, it's over. You're going to be okay. I'm right here…" He kissed her forehead. Murmuring nurturing words to her was the only thing he could do as he cradled her there in the dark. She grabbed onto the arm that held her for support. She gripped onto him like she'd never let him go.

"They were so angry," She whispered, "So…sad."

She was in shock. He noted the abnormal sensation of heat radiating from her forehead. Her pressed his cool palm to her head, holding it there for a minute to get an estimate of how high her temperature could be. Her eyelids were fluttering shut as Gareth held her.

"She's burning up." He murmured to Alex.

Alex reached to her and pressed his palm to the young woman's head. He flinched. "That's odd."

Gareth looked down at her, worry in his careworn, dark eyes.

He remembered the hope and faith that was in her eyes. But now he looked down at her, laying between his legs, slumped over and crying. He cradled her, kissed her forehead, and whispered reassuring words to her.

"I'm sorry." She murmured, tears streaking down her face.

"Shh, Spence. Don't say that. It's…it's gonna be alright." Gareth choked out. "It's...it's okay. It's okay. I'm right here, sweetheart. Do you hear me? You understand me? You're gonna be alright." She choked out a sob as he soothed her. "Hey, hey, baby. Shh..."

The young woman was sniffling and coughing through her sobbing. Her forehead was slick with sweat.

God, Gareth thought, Her body feels like a fucking radiator.

Clearly humiliated, she was reaching to pull up her underwear, which were wrapped around her ankles. She was in too much pain, though, and couldn't reach down in front of her. She shrieked as she bent down to pull them up. Gareth hushed her and made her lay against him again. He leaned over her, hooking his thumbs between the lace of the undergarment at her ankles, and pulled her underwear back around her hips. He grabbed the fabric of her dress and pushed her dress down so she was fully covered.

She was sobbing still, and Gareth could feel what was left of his heart shattering into a hundred thousand pieces within his chest. He held her to him, running his hands through her hair in gentle, long, comforting soft strokes in order to calm her down. The hand that wasn't running through her hair was being held in Spencer's hand. Her hand was scalding.

"We should never have put up the signs. What the hell did we think would happen? We brought these monsters here! Look at what they've done!" Alex snapped at Gareth in a whisper. "Look at Look at Spencer. Look at you."

Gareth's dark eyes roamed up from Spencer to his brother. His voice was hoarse. "We were trying to do something good. We were being human beings."

"What are we now, Gareth?"

Gareth shut his eyes for a minute in defeat. He knew his brother was right. They were like cattle, awaiting to be butchered by the very people they welcomed with open arms.

It sickened him that he had been such a fool.

He looked back down at Spencer, who looked utterly catatonic. Bruises were scattered all over her legs and her collarbone. Dirt and blood were caked on her cut-up knees, her flesh torn and bleeding. She'd taken a severe beating this time. But it wasn't the bruises or the dirt that so abruptly caught his eye.

Even in the dark, he could see the growing pool of blood between her legs.

"Oh…Oh my God." Gareth choked out, scrambling to sit up with Spencer laying against him. "Jesus Christ. Alex, look!"

Alex's eyes widened once he saw what he had seen. Gareth adjusted Spencer in his arms once more. She still sat up against him, unresponsive, as he peeled back her dress. The blood stained his hands, and he stared down at them in horror.

"Spencer, you're bleeding. Sweetheart, why are you bleeding?" His voice was uneven and shaky. His hands were slick with her blood.

Within only minutes, the sticky red liquid had stained the white dress, her underwear, and her inner thighs.

The wooden floor beneath her in the train car was drenched in blood, and the nauseating smell of copper stung his nostrils. She was losing far too much blood, and there was no chance in hell that those savages outside the train car were going to get her medical help.

"Shit, shit, shit…" Alex stammered, staring wide-eyed at the blood that stained Spencer's inner legs. "Oh my fucking God…Gareth, there's so much blood…Spencer? What's wrong? Spencer?"

She was unresponsive. Tears stung the sides of Gareth's eyes as he held her. She was coming in and out of consciousness, her head on Gareth's lap. He felt so helpless, so stupid, so powerless. He couldn't save her life. He couldn't do anything to stop the bleeding.

"She's hemorrhaging," Gareth choked out. "She's losing too much blood. We've…we've got to do something! Anything! She's dying!"

"She's not going to make it to morning light." Alex's voice was just as shaky as his brother's. "She needs a doctor. Those psychopaths won't do shit. If we tell her she's bleeding like this they'll kill her to finish her off without a second thought. We can't say anything."

Her heavy-lidded eyes stared up at Gareth, her vision blurred. She could only hear his voice telling her to breathe, to relax, to look at him.

"Stay with us," She heard him say, his face blurred as she stared up at him. "Come back with us, Spence. Come on now, sweetheart. Breathe. Come back with me. I'm right here."

Her vision was beginning to re-focus again. She could make out the darkness of his eyes and that stubble that lined his jaw. She saw his black eye and the dirt that streaked his cheeks. She saw Gareth's handsome, boyish face come into focus, and for once, she felt safe.

"I'm sorry," She said to him, tears squeezing out of her eyes and rolling down her cheeks. "I'm….I'm sorry."

Gareth brushed her tears away with his bloodied thumbs, shaking his head at her and holding back his own tears. He knew she was hemorrhaging. Tonight's attack had been too much for her body to handle. Her body was beginning to shut down. That heat radiating from her forehead was her body trying to fight off death. And it was losing.

They hadn't even cared that she was pregnant. It wasn't like it wasn't obvious. She was 23 weeks now with a swollen stomach and the attackers knew that her and Gareth were together. They knew Gareth was the father.

That's why they made him watch.

They loved to show him that he had no power, no control, no nothing. Not even the ability to protect his woman, nor his child. They took her anyway. They didn't care about the little life and soul growing inside of her. They didn't care that they were harming two defenseless bodies instead of one.

Gareth's eyes blurred over with tears, thinking of his little child inside of her, taking the abuse of the diabolical world before it even entered it. He thought of the difference between Spencer now and the old Spencer, the carefree, naive young woman he'd fallen in love with.

He remembered how peacefully her face had been while she slept, curled up into him. He remembered the taste of her on his lips, the touch of her fingers in his hair. He remembered the feeling of her warmth; the feeling of her body hugging his fingers as he worked them into her and explored inside of her. He remembered the way she had clutched onto his back as he eased himself into her. He remembered the feeling of becoming one with her. It hadn't been kinky or sleazy, or anything like that. It had been beautiful, and he'd give anything to see her happy again. He loved her more than anything, and wished to God that he could go back in time, before any of this ever happened. He wished that he could be in the woods hunting with her again, or wandering through Georgia with her again, or be in bed with her again. Anything to see her free of the pain that imprisoned her.

She was dying now. The flow of dark crimson blood wasn't stopping and Gareth could see the life slowly draining from her eyes as she fought to look at him. Alex knelt by her side, tears brimming his eyes as he stared down at her. The two of them was all that Spencer had. She had been with them for so long, and now they were watching her slip away. The two young men were on either side of her. Gareth was holding her hand, squeezing it tightly.

He shushed her and choked out, "Don't. Don't say that."

"Terminus was my suggestion," She choked out, her hoarse voice cracking from crying. "It's my fault. We shouldn't have done it. Look at us now."

Gareth put his head to her stomach and tears streaked down his cheeks. "No. Don't you say that. Don't blame yourself. This is on me."

Spencer sighed, shaking her head. "No, Gareth. It's on me."

He looked up at her. She reached up and cupped his stubble-lined face with affection, looking at him with devastation.

"I'm sorry. I'm…I'm going to miss you. I'm going to miss you so much." She said, her voice trembling. She was crying. "I want you to remember what I said to you, okay? You remember? The things I've told you all along? You're so good, Gareth. Please…please stay that way. Be patient, and be kind, and be balanced. Even though they may seem sinister, don't lose your faith in people. Okay?" She was having trouble getting the words out. "You're going to be fine. Remember that there's more good in this world than there is bad. I love you. You'll be alright. God, I love you. I love you."

He leaned down over her and hugged her. He kissed her, hard. Tears streaked down his face.

"I'm sorry you'll never get to be a father. I'm so sorry that I couldn't give you our little girl. I'm sorry I couldn't give that to you. It's my fault." She exploded into tears, "I'm so sorry, Gareth."

"No, don't…" Gareth begged, holding her in his bloodied hands. He was trembling. "Spencer, no…don't, please don't. It's okay. It's okay. You're going to be okay…No one can hurt you now. You'll be alright. I love you, sweetheart. Stay with me, alright? Please stay with me. Please."

"Gareth," Her eyes were fighting to remain open, her eyebrows furrowed. She looked worried. "I feel so cold. Why…why is it so cold?"

His eyes grew wide. Alex looked over at his brother with sadness in his eyes.

"N-no, no, no, no…" Gareth stammered, "Spencer, no. No. Stay with m—"

Her hazel eyes that used to look at him with cheekiness and innocence stared up at him lifelessly.

"Spencer?" He choked out, brushing a strand of blond hair out of her face. She was 23 weeks pregnant with his child, and now she was gone.

Gareth held her cold, hollow corpse in his bloodied hands.

He remembered the warmness of her skin against his, the feel of her on his lips. He remembered her laugh as they laid in bed after a long night together, the way her eyes looked at him like he was the last man on earth. He remembered tracing circles on her warm skin as she laid nude against him, her long ringlets of blond hair falling to her mid-back.

"I love you," He'd told her, running a hand through her hair while she had buried her face in his clothes-less chest. He'd rested his hand on her abdomen. "She's going to be so beautiful."

She loved laying there with him, ignoring the violent world outside their door. They'd been staying in an abandoned house, deep in the woods of Georgia, just for the night. It was months before Terminus. She curled herself up into him.

She'd said nothing, only snuggling into his chest more. laying there with him, ignoring the violent world outside their door.

Sometimes when you're expected to say something really meaningful, it becomes almost impossible to say anything at all. He'd tried to keep her safe and sound.

He had let her down.

It was his fault.

He felt a sob rip through his chest as he held her body. The darkness of the night outside and the screaming and hollering from the taken-over Terminus rang in his ears. The bloodcurdling shriek of Spencer's still was ringing in his ears. He stared at her face, unable to accept what had happened.

She was gone, his baby was gone, and Gareth's humanity was gone.

"You can change this." Bob begged. "You don't have to do this." Gareth stared at the three men and scoffed.

"Sorry," He said bitterly. "But, I really do."

Reviews are always appreciated :)