#AND THEN. AND THEN. HE DIDN'T TELL HIM ABOUT THE FALL OF THE DALES. HE TRIED TO LIE TO HIM ABOUT HIS LOVER'S FATE BUT HE SAW RIGHT THROUGH

[heniareth]

Help my Lavellan's found Inquisitor Ameridan and he's asking about his friends and the Dales and I don't know what to tell the poor man

[omgkatherine01]

Between Your Wings - Chapter 3: Back to the City

Series Masterlist

Chapter 2, Chapter 4

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x female reader x Rick Grimes (slow burn)

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That night, you sat around the campfire with the members of the camp. Rick was recounting his journey here, "I felt like I'd been ripped out of my life and put somewhere else. For a while I thought I was trapped in some coma dream, something I might not wake up from ever."

"Mom said you died," Carl said softly, and you tilted your head sadly.

Rick nodded, his voice soft, "She had every reason to believe that. Don't you ever doubt that."

"When things started getting really bad, they told us at the hospital that they were going to medevac you and other patients to Atlanta, but it never happened," Lori spoke up.

"Well, I'm not surprised after Atlanta fell," Rick said, "From the look of that hospital, it got overrun."

"Yeah, looks don't deceive," Shane finally spoke up, "I barely got them out, you know?"

Rick's eyes shifted to Shane, a small smile forming across his face, "I can't tell you how grateful I am to you, Shane. I can't begin to express it."

Dale smiled, leaning back in his seat, "There go those words falling short again. Paltry things."

The sound of a log being dropped into a nearby fire caught your attention. You glanced over at the Peletiers, Ed sitting back down in his seat. Every night since you'd all arrived here, he had insisted that his family have their own fire. He wanted to keep Carol and their daughter Sophia as far away from the rest of you as possible.

"Hey, Ed, you want to rethink that log?" Shane asked.

"It's cold, man," Ed told him.

"The cold don't change the rules, does it?" Shane asked. "Keep our fires low, just embers so we can't be seen from a distance, right?"

"I said it's cold," Ed told him, "You should mind your own business for once."

Shane stood up, walking toward the Peletier family, standing in front of Ed, "Hey, Ed... are you sure you want to have this conversation, man?"

Ed looked at his wife, "Go on. Pull the damn thing out." Carol didn't move. "Go on!"

Carol stood up, walking around.

Shane shook his head, "Christ."

Carol pulled the log out of the fire, walking back to sit between Ed and Sophia.

Shane stomped the flames out, looking at Carol and Sophia, kneeling in front of them, "Hey, Carol, Sophia, how are y'all this evening?"

"Fine," Carol told him, "We're just fine."

"Okay," Shane told them.

"I'm sorry about the fire," Carol told him.

"No, no, no," Shane told her, "No apology needed. Y'all have a good night, okay?"

"Thank you," Carol told him.

Shane stood up, looking at Ed, "I appreciate the cooperation." He walked away, walking back toward the others, sitting back between T-Dog and Amy.

Dale cleared his throat, everyone having clearly been watching the situation as intensely as you had, "Have you all given any more thought to Daryl Dixon? He won't be happy to hear his brother was left behind."

"I'll tell him," T-Dog said, "I dropped the key. It's on me."

"I cuffed him," Rick said, "That makes it mine."

"Guys, it's not a competition," Glenn said, "I don't mean to bring race into this, but it might sound better coming from a white guy... maybe... someone like Audery?"

You frowned and looked at your closes friend, "What?"

Glenn shrugged, "I'm just saying... you are the safest person to tell him. Because he won't beat you up."

You shook your head, "Nah, nope. I'm not telling shit. Wasn't there, didn't see what happened exactly." Glenn nudged your shoulder with his while some of the group smiled with amusement. "Don't drag me into this."

"I did what I did." You looked at T-Dog, who looked down in slight shame. "Hell if I'm gonna hide from it."

"We could lie," Amy suggested.

"Or we tell the truth," Andrea said, "Merle was out of control. Something had to be done or he'd have gotten us killed." She looked at Lori, "Your husband did what was necessary. And if Merle got left behind, it is nobody's fault but Merle's."

"And that's what we tell Daryl?" Dale asked, "I don't see a rational discussion to be had from that, do you? Word to the wise--We're gonna have our hands full when he gets back from his hunt."

"I was scared, and I ran," T-Dog said softly, "I'm not ashamed of it."

"We were all scared," Andrea told him, "We all ran. What's your point?"

"I stopped long enough to chain that door," T-Dog said, "Staircase is narrow. Maybe half a dozen geeks can squeeze against it at any one time. It's not enough to break through that--Not that chain, not that padlock. My point--Dixon's alive and he's still up there, handcuffed on that roof. That's on us."

The camp went silent, everyone reflecting on the conversation. Nobody really wanted to tell Daryl anything; You knew Daryl was a hot headed like Merle, but he wasn't nearly as bad as his big brother.

You wouldn't lie, ever since you've met the Dixon brothers, you thought the youngest Dixon was quite attractive. You were shy at first to approach him--not to mention you pulled your father's gun to his face when you first met him when he and Merle stepped into your and your father's hiding place--but as time went on, he got used to you been around him.

You knew you developed a crush on him, but you kept it to yourself. Or well used to, until you and Amy had a heart-to-heart talk, and she found out you had a crush on him, she teased you a couple of times when it was just the two of you, but she definitely kept it a secret.

You sighed softly and looked down at Max who was lying on your feet. You would have to be the one to talk to Daryl about Merle.

Slowly everyone started to turn in, heading to their tents. You picked Max into your arms and walked to your tent. You walked inside and placed Max on the tent's floor. He walked to his small bed, and you put your boots outside before zipping your tent up.

You petted Max before stepping to your bed and lying down.

Tomorrow will be hard; you just knew it.

****

You woke up to a lick on your hand and opened your eyes slowly to see Max was awake and he whimpered. You groaned softly and slowly got out of the bed. Max jumped to the entrance of the tent, and you unzipped it.

He jumped out and ran off, wiggling his tail and you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and brushed your fingers through your hair. You put your boots on and stepped out completely.

You looked around at the camp and spotted only a few people around while the others still sleeping, which meant it was pretty early in the morning. "Morning, Audrey!" You looked up at top of the RV to see Jim.

You smiled as you stepped up to the RV. "Morning, Jim."

"Slept well?"

You shrugged, "Guess so. And so did Max, since he hasn't woken me up in the middle of the night." Jim smiled as he let out a chuckle. "Did you sleep?"

"Yeah, don't worry, just took the shift from Shane," Jim said and frowned, "Dale said he was up all night." You frowned at that; Shane was supposed to be on shift night but during the night Dale was supposed to take over.

"Huh," you said softly and glanced around before spotting Max running toward you, with his tongue out. You kneeled down and petted your puppy with affection. "Who's a good boy?"

"Son of a bitch!"

You looked to the direction the shouting came from and saw Ed throwing his shoe on the ground. You looked down at Max who just tilted his head up at you. You glanced slowly to Ed's direction... which was where Max was before running to you.

"Oh, you really are a good boy," you praised your dog quietly and rubbed him on the head. "Yes, you are." Max gave a small bark and fell on his back, and you giggled as you rubbed his belly. "Yes, you are!"

"Hey!" You looked over to Ed as he stormed toward you, and you froze.

Carol ran after him worried, "Ed--"

"Shut it," he said as he glared over at her and then turned back to you as you stood up with Max in your arms. He pointed in your face, and you took a step back while he glared at you, "Your stupid dog ruined my shoe!"

"Is there a problem, Ed?" you looked over your shoulder at Shane as he approached to your side.

"That little bitch's dog peed in my shoe," Ed hissed.

Shane's eyes darkened and his jaw clenched before he spoke in a calm tone which sounded scary, "First of all, don't call her that. Second, your shoe must have fell on the side, should watch how to put your shoes outside the tent." He stepped forward and faced Ed closer, "Now, anything else?"

Ed didn't answer and just glared between the two of you for another second before turning and storming back toward his tent. Shane and you watched him and Carol before you looked at Shane as he stepped around and stood in front of you.

"You okay?" he asked, and you nodded. He nodded and looked at Max for a moment before he smirked lightly and petted his head, speaking softly, "Good boy."

You let out a chuckle as he praised him for the nasty trick, and Max barked, wiggling his tail happily.

****

Everyone were now up and around. The kids had asked you if it was all right to take Max and play with him near the camp, which you happily agreed for them to do so. But your happy mood changed when Dale had told you the men would have to take parts out from the sports car you stole yesterday. 

You stood on the side with your arms crossed over your chest, watching in complete sadness as Dale, Jim and Morales worked on the car. "It's not fair," you said, while the three amused men ignored your complains, "Taking my new car apart is just cruelty."

You felt someone next to you and you glanced over to see Rick, who was staring at the men and the car. "Look at 'em," you said as you looked at them, "They took my dream car."

You heard Rick letting out a soft chuckle. Dale stepped closer with part of the car, which made you sad even more. "Generators need every drop of fuel they can get," he said, "Got no power without it. I'm sorry, sweetheart."

He rubbed your arm and walked away. You looked over at Rick, "Thought I'd get to drive it at least a few more days."

Rick petted your back with a nod, "Maybe we'll get to steal another one someday."

"Hope so," you muttered and glanced back at him as he walked toward Lori. You looked back at your ruined car in disappointment before letting a soft sigh.

You heard a honk and looked behind the car at Shane's jeep driving closer. Shane parked and leaned up, "Water's here, y'all. Just a reminder to boil before use." You watched the men approaching the jeep to help carry the water tanks.

You walked up to Shane who noticed your expression, "Oh no, what happened while I was away?" he asked with a frown.

"Stolen car has been torn apart," you answered.

"Oh boy, that's sucks," he said as he leaned to the passenger side and grabbed his rifle. "Look like one hell of a car. Don't worry, you get another one day."

"Can you go this time to the city and get me another one?" you asked with a small smirk.

He laughed, "Just because I care about you, that does not mean I'll go to the city just to get you the same looking car you stole." 

You pouted jokingly, "You mean." Your friendly conversation was cut off by screaming in the distance, and you tensed up and turned to where the screams came from.

"Mom!"

You watched as half the campers ran toward the direction the screaming came from. You followed them and immediately spotted Carl embracing his mother with Max in his arms. "What happened?" she asked, "Are you okay?!"

"Yeah," Carl answered as you watched the men running to where Jacqui was pointing.

You followed the men to the path and paused when you saw a walker kneeling down and eating an already dead deer. You leaned forward and saw the animal had a few arrows stuck in him.

You heard footsteps behind you and glanced over to see Andrea and Amy stopping near you. You turned back your attention to the men, the walker stopped and turned to them. He slowly got up and then Rick hit him with the pole, and he fell to the ground.

You watched the men beating the walker until Dale finished the walker off by chopping his head off with an axe. There was a moment of silent after that until Dale spoke, "It's the first one we've had up here. They never come this far up the mountain."

You heard small growling and looked down to see Max had left Carl's side and now was standing next to you and the sisters. His tail wiggled and he was staring at the dead walker.

You picked Max up and held him in your arms before turning your attention back to the men. "They're running out of food in the city, that's what," Jim said.

You heard branch snapping from behind him and you all looked tensed up. Andrea pulled you and Amy near her sides as you watched the men holding their weapons up.

Then after a moment of only hearing the footsteps approaching, you were relief to see it was only Daryl stepping into view. He paused and stared at the men, and they lowered their weapons down when they realized it was only Daryl.

"Oh, Jesus."

Max gave one bark in your arms when he saw Daryl, his tail wiggling.

"Son of a bitch," Daryl snapped as he looked at the deer. "That's my deer!" He walked closer. "Look at it. All gnawed on by this--" He kicked the Walker. "Filthy, disease-bearing, motherless poxy bastard."

"Calm down, son," Dale told him, "That's not helping."

Daryl walked around the Walker, standing in front of Dale, and you took a few steps forward toward them. "What do you know about it, old man?" he snapped, "Why don't you take that stupid hat and go back to 'On Golden Pond'?" He walked back to the deer, taking out the arrows. "I've been tracking this deer for miles. Gonna drag it back to camp, cook us up some venison. What do you think? Do you think we can cut around this chewed up part right here?"

As much as venison sounded good, you had to disagree because of the walker, "I would not risk that," you spoke up and glanced around at the men to see Shane nodding in agreement, before at Daryl.

Daryl looked back at you and then at the deer with a sigh, "That's a damn shame. I got some squirrel--about a dozen or so. That'll have to do."

The head of the Walker started to move his teeth. "Oh, God," Amy said behind you and you glanced back to see the sisters leaving.

"Come on, people," Daryl said and you turned back. "What the hell?" He shot the Walker's head with his crossbow. The arrow hit him in the eye, killing the walker. Daryl pulled the arrow out. "It's gotta be the brain. Don't y'all know nothing?"

Daryl walked past Shane and Rick. He petted Max on the head as he walked past you. You turned to the men and saw Rick watching Daryl leaving. "Yeah..." you trailed off and he looked at you, "That's Daryl."

You turned and took a step to leave but then Glenn spoke, "So... Audrey, you will... right?" You turned and gave Glenn a look as you raised your eyebrow. You didn't say anything and just turned and walked after Daryl to the camp.

"Merle! Merle! Get your ugly ass out here! I got us some squirrel! Let's stew 'em up."

You gently placed Max on the ground, and he ran up to the RV to where Lori was. You cleared your throat, "Hey Daryl?" Daryl stopped and turned to you as you walked close to him. "I, uh, I need to talk to you."

"'Bout what?" Daryl asked.

"About Merle," you answered, "There was a--there was a problem in Atlanta."

Daryl looked around, then he looked at you, "He dead?"

"No, I mean, we don't think so--" you started as Shane stepped to your side.

"We're not sure."

"He either is or he ain't!" Daryl yelled at him.

Rick walked closer, "No easy way to say this, so I'll just say it."

"Who are you?"

"Rick Grimes."

"Rick Grimes," Daryl huffed, "You got something you want to tell me?"

"Your brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked him to a piece of metal. He's still there."

"Hold on, let me process this," Daryl said as he stepped back, facing away from everyone as he wiped his eyes. It took a moment before he turned back to Rick, "You're saying you handcuffed my brother to a roof, and you left him there?"

"Yeah."

Without missing a beat, Daryl flung the rope of squirrels at Rick before rushing to tackle him. Shane jumped into action, body slamming him to the ground as you stepped back. Daryl then pulled out a knife, swinging it back and forth at the two men. "Daryl, stop!" you called.

Rick was able to sneak in a gut punch, allowing for Shane to get Daryl into a choke hold. "You'd best let me go!" Daryl yelled, thrashing his body.

Shane shook his head, "I think it's better if I don't."

"Choke hold's illegal," Daryl snapped. 

"You can file a complaint," Shane said as Daryl continuing to thrash in his arms, "Come on, man. We can do this all day."

Rick knelt in front of Daryl, looking him in the eyes, "I'd like to have a calm discussion on this topic. Do you think we can manage that?"

Daryl thought for a moment, before choking out a quiet 'Yeah'. Shane looked at Rick for reassurance before letting the man go.

"What I did was not on a whim," Rick told him, "Your brother does not work and play well with others."

"It's not Rick's fault," T-Dog told him, "I had the key. I dropped it."

"You couldn't pick it up?" Daryl asked. 

"I dropped it in a drain."

Rick stood up as Daryl looked down at the ground, breathing heavily, standing up, looking at T-Dog, "If it's supposed to make me feel better, it don't."

"Well, maybe this will," T-Dog told him, "Look, I chained the door to the roof--So the geeks couldn't get at him--with a padlock."

Rick looked at Daryl, "It's gotta count for something."

Daryl looked away, shaking his head, "Hell with all y'all!" He looked at Rick. "Just tell me where he is so that I can go get him."

"He'll show you," Lori told him, and everyone looked at her, "Isn't that right?"

Rick looked around, nodding, "I'm going back." Lori shook her head slightly and she turned and walked into the RV. You looked at Rick and watched him walking to the tents and Shane followed him clearly pissed off with the idea.

You stepped to your ruined car and leaned against the side of it as you crossed your arms across your chest. Daryl glanced to your way before quickly he sat down on one of the rocks and started to clean his arrows.

There was a couple of minutes of silent, full of tension in the air until you saw Rick and Shane walking back to the main camp, with Rick in his uniform.

"Well, look, I--I don't, okay, Rick?" Shane asked, "So could you just--Could you throw me a bone here, man? Could you just tell me why? Why would you risk your life for a douche bag like Merle Dixon?"

"Hey, choose your words more carefully," Daryl snapped at him.

"No, I did," Shane told him. "Douche bag's what I meant." He looked at Rick. "Merle Dixon--The guy wouldn't give you a glass of water if you were dying of thirst."

"What he would or wouldn't do doesn't interest me," Rick told him, "I can't let a man die of thirst--me. Thirst and exposure. We left him like an animal caught in a trap. That's no way for anything to die, let alone a human being."

Lori was sitting on logs with Carl and Max, "So you and Daryl, that's your big plan?"

Rick turned around, before his eyes landed on you. Oh no, he was staring at me you thought. You pointed at yourself, "Me?"

"You know the way," Rick pleaded as he stepped closer to you, "You've been there before. In and out, no problem. You said so yourself. It's not fair of me to ask, I know that, but I'd feel a lot better with you there. I know she would too." His eyes landed on Lori, and you looked over at her for a moment. You sighed and nodded lightly.

"That's just great," Shane told him sarcastically. "Now you're gonna risk three people, huh?"

"Four," T-Dog said.

"My day just gets better and better, don't it?" Daryl huffed.

"You see anybody else here stepping up to save your brother's cracker ass?" T-Dog asked.

"Why you?"

"You wouldn't even begin to understand. You don't speak my language."

Dale let out a heavy sigh, "That's four then."

"It's not just four," Shane said, looking at Rick, "You're putting every single one of us at risk. Just know that, Rick. Come on, you saw that Walker. It was here. It was in camp. They're moving out of the cities. They come back, we need every able body we've got. We need 'em here. We need 'em to protect camp."

"Sounds to me like what you really need are more guns," Rick said.

"What guns?" Shane asked.

"Six shotguns, two high-powered rifles, over a dozen handguns," Rick explained, "I cleaned out the cage back at the station before I left. I dropped the bag in Atlanta when I got swarmed. It's just sitting there on the street, waiting to be picked up."

"Ammo?" Shane asked. 

"700 rounds, assorted," Rick answered. 

"You went through hell to find us," Lori told him, "You just got here and you're gonna turn around and leave?"

Carl stepped forward, looking up at Rick, "Dad, I don't want you to go."

"To hell with the guns," Lori told him. "Shane is right. Merle Dixon? He's not worth one of your lives, even with guns thrown in." Rick walked closer to them. Lori stood up. "Tell me. Make me understand."

"I owe a debt to a man I met and his little boy," Rick told her, "Lori, if they hadn't taken me in, I'd have died. It's because of them that I made it back to you at all. They said they'd follow me to Atlanta. They'll walk into the same trap I did if I don't warn him."

"What's stopping you?" Lori asked.

"The walkie-talkie, the one in the bag I dropped," Rick answered. "He's got the other one. Our plan was to connect when they got closer."

"These are our walkies?" Shane asked. 

"Yeah," Rick answered. 

"So use the CB," Andrea told him. "What's wrong with that?"

"The CB's fine," Shane said, "It's the walkies that suck to crap--Date back to the '70s, don't match any other bandwidth--Not even the scanners in our cars."

Rick looked at Lori, "I need that bag. Okay?"

Lori looked away, "All right."

As the men began loading the van for the trip, you approached Lori who stared longingly at her husband. "Hey, I'll watch over him, don't worry," you assured.

Lori looked at you and smiled a small smile, nodding. She wrapped her arms around you, bringing you into a hug. You hugged her back as she spoke quietly, "I didn't get the chance to thank you for saving him."

"What, he told you?" you asked, and you both pulled out from the embrace.

"Yes."

"You're welcome," you said, "I got his back, don't worry."

Lori nodded and then said, "Be careful out there."

"Always am."

Daryl beeped on the horn of the van with his feet, "Come on, let's go!"

Carl ran closer and you hugged him gently, "Alright, bud, remember what happens when I'm out?"

"Keep Max close," he said as he pulled away.

You smirked and nodded, "See you soon."

He waved to you goodbye as you headed to the van. You got into the passenger seat and closed the door. Rick got into the driver seat and closed his door. After a moment of waiting, you glanced over and saw Daryl sliding the back door close and sat in front of T-Dog.

"All right let's get going," you muttered, and Rick started the van and drove off.

****

"He'd better be okay." You glanced up from the map and over your shoulder to Daryl when he spoke, you saw him looking at T-Dog, "It's my only word on the matter."

"I told you the geeks can't get at him," T-Dog told him, "The only thing that's gonna get through that door is us."

You turned back your attention to the road and when you saw you reached just outside the city and on the railroad tracks, you looked at Rick, "Stop here."

Rick did as you said and slowly stopped and parked the van. "We walk from here," you said as you glanced at the men before opening the door and getting out. They followed your move and you glanced at T-Dog and saw him holding his side for a brief second before letting his arm fall. "You okay?" you asked.

"Yeah," he answered as you all ran to the gates, and walked through the cut fence of the highway.

Rick looked at you, "Merle first or guns?"

"Merle," Daryl snapped, "We ain't even having this conversation."

"We are," Rick warned him and then turned his attention back to you, "You know the geography. It's your call."

"Merle's closest," you answered, "The guns would mean doubling back." You glanced at Daryl, "Merle first."

Daryl gave a small nod to you, and you all ran all the way to the building of the clothing store, and you all paused. There were no longer herd of walkers around the area but that didn't mean there was no walkers inside. Rick walked in first, and looked around before nodding for all of you to follow in.

Rick stopped you all suddenly, seeing a Walker inside, looking at Daryl, signaling him. Daryl walked past you, walking toward the Walker, holding his crossbow, "Damn. You are one ugly skank."

The Walker noticed him, taking a step closer but then Daryl shot an arrow to the Walker's head, killing it, walking toward it. He pulled the arrow out, cleaning it from blood with his pants. "Let's go," he said, and you all ran to the stairs that lead to the roof.

At the top of the stairs, T-Dog cut the chain to the door. Daryl pushed past him, throwing the door open and running onto the roof.

"Merle! Merle!" Daryl called out, looking around.

You followed the men who came to an abrupt stop.

"Oh, my God," you whispered, covering your mouth with your hand.

Daryl rushed over, "No!" You looked at him, and he began pacing back and forth, tears welling in his eyes as he continued to scream out.

Everyone remained silent, not knowing exactly what to say; if there was anything to say.

Your eyes lingered on the ground, Merle's severed hand sitting next to a hacksaw. Semi-dried blood was pooled around it, droplets leading away from the scene. Yet, there was no sign of Merle at all.

That crazy son of a bitch.

[final-girl96]

Broke Wolrd: Chapter Nineteen

“Somebody must know something. Somebody somewhere,” Andrea said. “There are others, right? Other facilities?” Carol asked. Jenner looked at them and nodded “There may be some. People like me,” he said. “But you don't know? How can you not know?” I asked. Jenner sighed and walked away while saying “Everything went down. Communications, directives... all of it. I've been in the dark for almost a month. He looked around at all of us. “So it's not just here. There's nothing left anywhere? Nothing? That's what you're really saying, right?” Andrea asked. “Man, I'm gonna get shit-faced drunk… again,” Daryl said, shaking his head.

Dale moved forward, Dr. Jenner, I know this has been taxing for you and I hate to ask one more question, but... That clock... It's counting down. What happens at zero?” Dale asked, pointing at the large clock on the wall, the one I had noticed last night. Jenner walked further away to one of the computers and said, “The basement generators... they run out of fuel.” Everyone looked at each other in confusion. “And then?” Dale asked. “Vi, what happens when the power runs out?” Rick asked. Vi began to speak, “When the power runs out, facility-wide decontamination will occur.”

“Decontamination... What does that mean?” Glenn asked. Jenner walked away without another word. Shane, Rick, Glenn, and T-Dog went down to the basement. The rest of the group went back to our rooms. It was useless for them to be in the basement. The building was going to shut down; then it was going to destroy itself. “We have to get out of here,” I said, pacing back and forth. Daryl was sitting on the couch, bottle of wine in his hand. He didn't say anything and when I was about to say something, the air conditioner went off and the lights went out.

Jenner started walking down the hall and everyone filed behind him, asking questions about the air and lights. He simply replied that the building was shutting itself down. We walked into the big room just as Eick Shane, Glenn, and T-Dog came back from the basement. It wasn't surprising to me that they're wasn't any fuel left. Shot really hit when Jenner told everyone what would happen when the clock hits zero. “He means that the building is going to blow. The air will set fire and before you can blink it will be over. He's locked us in here; there is no way out! Isn't that right, Jenner?!”

“It's painless. I mean you said,” he looked at Rick. “Everyone you know and love will be dead soon.” Lori looked at Rick with wide eyes. “You really said that, man?” Shane asked. Rick tried to explain and then he was back to telling Jenner to let us out. We were completely locked in the big room. A large door came down over the main door to the room, there was no way to break it. When T-Dog and Glenn started hitting it with axes, Jenner told them that it was built to withstand a missile launcher. Of course it was, this place holds very dangerous diseases.

Everyone was getting worked up, Carol and Lori were trying to comfort their children while trying to not fall apart themselves. Rick and Shane had to hold Daryl back when he launched himself towards Jenner. At one point Rick and Shane got into it when Shane started popping off rounds into the computers. Eventually Jenner let us out and everyone started towards the door to grab our things and get out before the building blew. Well not all of us. Jacquie stayed behind and so did Andrea. Dale didn't accept Andrea wanting to stay behind so he stayed with her. There wasn't anything Anyone could do or say to change anyone's minds.

Out in the lobby we had to figure out what to do to get out. The doors were locked and there was no way to unlock them. Shane tried to shoot the glass but nothing happened. Then Carol pulled a fucking grenade out of her purse and handed it to Rick. He took it in shaky hands and placed it near the window, barely making it far enough away when it went off, shattering the glass. As soon as it was over everyone quickly filed out and made for the vehicles, taking walkers out along the way. Shane went to his jeep, me and Daryl got into his truck, and the rest got into the RV and we all ducked down. Seconds before the building blew, Dale and Andrea ran out and took cover.

Daryl pulled me down so my top half was laying on the seat and his body covered mine. The truck rocked back and forth from the blast and a wave of heat hit us along with it. My ears rang from the loud explosion even though I had covered my ears. The minutes went by slowly making it feel like hours before we sat up. “We have to get out of here. every walker in the city just heard that and is probably on their way.” Daryl grunted in agreement and started the truck. Dale and Andrea rushed into the RV. T-dog ran out and hopped into the van and we started to roll out.

We didn't get very far when Shane's jeep broke down and he couldn't get it to turn over. He made it to the RV just before a group of walkers caught up to him. We followed Rick as he made his way into the city. I was confused at first until I realized where he was going. We were at the nursing home where those guys we had ran into when Rick, Daryl, Glenn, and T came back to get Merle. But when we walked through the court yard it was full of walkers. The inside wasn't any better; there weren't any walkers but everyone was dead.

Looking closely at the bodies it wasn't hard to tell that walkers didn't kill them. They had gunshot wounds to the head; people came in here and killed them all execution style. That night we ate the little food we had and stayed upstairs until morning. As soon as the sun came up and the coast was clear we headed back to the vehicles, siphoned the gas out of the van and Daryl's truck, and any other cars nearby, put that in the RV and the Cherokee.

Daryl took his brother's bike off the truck and everything was packed into the RV. Not wanting to be stuffed in the RV I talked Daryl into letting me ride with him. Once everyone was settled we drove out of the city and onto the freeway. Our destination was Fort Benning, which I didn't have any hope for.

[sourpatchys]

Chapter One: It Begins

Time: Quarry

Rating: PG, nothing explicit

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: Two souls connected by fate and severed by ignorance. However, with the world changing and medication fading, they will have no choice but to face the truth. Female reader!

A/N: This chapter is much shorter than the ones in the future will be— I wanted to get some solid ground to stand on, and I feel like I did that here!

—

The topic of soulmates wasn't one for the weak of heart. It wasn't a rare occurrence, but it wasn't common by any means— it fell in a middle ground of the unknown. scientists and doctors alike took the concept at face value, never batting an eye to the phenomenon that plagued so many people.

It was a topic that most of the world viewed as taboo. And you, by a stretch of bad luck, became part of the equation.

At 16 years old— your dreams took the form of memories— only they weren't yours to remember.

Sometimes, they were fun, with laughter and warmth— and other times you swore you felt blood pouring down your spine as a sick, cold, darkness consumed you. The pain in these dreams almost felt real, and as you woke you swore there would be markings— yet there never were.

You never dared to tell anyone. The few people you'd seen who openly had soulmates weren't exactly socially accepted, they were "claimed", and no one wanted to be near them.

"Freaks of nature" is what your father called them— and by extension— what he had unknowingly called you.

At 18, you finally told your doctor. Now without the threat of your parents and peers finding out, you felt safe enough to get prescribed a "dream repellent". One used to keep up social norms, to ignore the soulmate bond all together.

Sometimes you really wish you had told someone close to you— maybe then you could've found your other half, maybe you wouldn't have needed the pills at all.

Even as someone with soul bond— you knew next to nothing about it. You chose to live in ignorance. You didn't want to think of the life you may have had, the life chosen for you.

It had been years since your last dream. Years since you heard the muffled cries of the person you were supposed to love.

And now, with no medication available, you have no choice but to face them. Potentially for the rest of your life.

You knew they were still alive somewhere, even with your limited knowledge on the subject, one thing was certain— when a soulmate dies, the other is always quick to follow.

It had been at least two months since the outbreak— and if your soulmate had died, you definitely wouldn't be alive and kicking as you were.

You were lucky enough to have found a group of survivors. Georgia was not your usual playing ground, and you were almost sure the world would've taken you with it, if it hadn't been for the kindness of Lori and the others.

Your dreams, for better or worse, hadn't started back up again, quite honestly you were hoping they never would. Even without the societal norm hanging over your head— you were afraid.

You had never felt love, or lust— not even the pull of attraction towards a childhood crush. You were, by all means, taken for, by someone you had never met.

You were sure, feeling all of those things for the first time in your adult life— would kill you.

The group you were staying with were kind people, you never went a day without food or water and Shane, the self appointed leader of the group, never shot you down if you wanted to learn a new skill. Dale, who you had jokingly deemed the groups father figure, never bat an eye when you talked to him about silly things. They were truly a found family, one you could call your own.

There were a couple people, namely, Ed, Merle and Daryl, that you avoided. They didn't seem to care for the groups makeshift family dynamic, and you weren't about to try and convince them otherwise.

Geeks you could handle, when shit hit the fan you had taken out more than just a few, but people were another thing entirely.

Even before the fall, public places always kept you on your toes, you never knew what someone else was capable of or what they were thinking. So you bid your time by playing with the children, helping Carl with the homework his mom had given him that day, and folding laundry with Carol.

Overall, it was a pretty sweet gig— given the circumstances.

That didn't mean it was flowers and rainbows all the time though, fights tended to break out more often than not recently.

"I'm tellin' you right now, if you don't get me on that run I'm takin' my brother and we're getting the fuck out of here!" Merle screamed, marching his way up to Shane as he threw his arms around in a rage.

"You know, without you and your brother we're down two fighters and a hunter— we need you here, not out there."

"Oh is that so?" Merle backed up, moving himself mockingly as he continued "You'll let a carpet muncher and a scrawny Chinese kid go, but not one'a yer' fighters? Is that it?"

Shane rubbed at his face with his hands, clearly trying to find a way to step away from the conversation entirely.

"Listen man— you can go, but if yer' goin' then Daryl's gotta take all the hunting on, he's gonna be out there, by himself, for at least a full 24 hours— are you willin'ta risk that?"

Merle sneered and started to laugh, raising his arms out to his sides in victory.

"My little brother can handle himself bossman, it ain't no hair off my back if he's by himself."

Contrary to Merles words, Daryl wasn't too keen on the idea once he was clued in. He didn't hate going by himself, it was a lot easier to stay quiet and track without someone in your ear, but the fact he was used as a bargaining chip got under his skin more than he expected.

"You can't just say stuff like that man. I wasn't even there."

The sun had set by this point, its last shining rays slowly disappearing under the horizon, the soft glow from the campfire taking its place.

"Oh, common' its no biggie, I get out and get my stash, and you get to stay here and play fairys in the woods. Sounds like a good deal to me, little brother."

Daryl kept his eyes casted to the ground, keeping his hands busy by sharpening his knife on a river rock he had found earlier in the day. Sometimes Merle got to him more than he'd like to admit, at times he just gave up, not willing to start something he wasn't prepared to finish.

The elder sat up straight, a gleam of mischief shining in his eyes as he took in his brothers demeanor.

"You're gettin' those dreams again, ain't you little brother?"

The dreams.

They had stopped years ago, everyone he told thought he was crazy. For a while, hyped up on whatever substances he could get his hands on, he believed he truly was immortal, that the world had made a sick mistake.

Soulmate connections aren't supposed to just stop, not unless there aren't any memories left to give, and yet he was still alive and well. And if they did stop— they definitely weren't supposed to start again.

"Nah, they haven't."

Merle stood, clapping his hand on Daryl's shoulder as he walked himself over to their shared tent, seemingly content with the lackluster conversation they managed to have.

"Good thing, I don't want you gettin' all emotional before we get ourselves outta here, I don't need you bailing on me over some pansy that might not even be alive."

Merle sure knew how to get under Daryl's skin. The fact that his soul bond could be a geek had never even crossed his mind until now. The level of uncertainty creeping up his spine was just enough to drive him mad.

—

The next morning was mostly uneventful, your chores stayed the same as any other day, Daryl went off to find some game, and Glenn's group headed out to Atlanta for supplies.

The only major difference was the amount of people who had left, leaving a much quieter overtone settled over the quarry.

The silence was almost unnerving, the children weren't playing, the loudest person in camp was gone, and Dale wasn't telling his usual stories, too worried about Andrea.

As the day carried on, you found yourself floating between tasks, a looming sense of anxiety holding itself over your head. You weren't entirely sure why— there was plenty to be anxious about—  but it wasn't a feeling caused by anything you could see or hear, it was a sharp feeling, as if ants were crawling under your skin.

Up until this point, you had almost prided yourself in your ability to keep your composure, you had you moments of terror, you'd screamed and cried, but if nothing was happening in the moment, it was easy for you to ignore it all together. Today— you couldn't ignore it.

Snapping you out of your dazed state, you heard a screaming car alarm ripping through the mountains.

"What is that?!" You called, fidgeting where you stood, your heart beating a million miles per hour. Something was seriously wrong with you.

And then you saw it— a bright red car hurdling through the mountains.

Something inside you knew— they had finally come back.

Next chapter

[fyrewalkwithmee]

Thin Walls Pt. 1

Special Agent Dale Cooper x reader

Sooo there's a serious lack of Dale Cooper x reader and I'm in my Twin Peaks era and plan to change that. This will be a multi-part story because I can't physically write anything under like 1k words lol.

word count: 1.8k

WARNINGS: 18+ due to sexual themes, descriptions of masturbation, sexual frustration/tension, pining, smuttyness ;)

Please let me know if you enjoyed the story and want pt.2 I'm also happy to take requests for Agent Cooper if you have any naughty ideas.

Thank you for reading <3

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Chapter 1, The Agent Next Door

Your mind flashed to what happened earlier that day as you fixed your just-curled hair into an elegant but wild bun. You had been interrogating two high school girls who were Classmates of Laura Palmer. You and your partner had discovered evidence possibly linking them to the Palmer case.

You and Dale had decided it would be best for you to question them first as they may be more likely to talk if it were a younger female agent grilling them. You had a way with young girls that almost always made them spill their secrets. Perhaps you saw a bit of yourself in them. Maybe it was your gentle nature and 'kind eyes' as Dale liked to call them. He was always saying things like that, complimenting you, uplifting you as an agent. It never went any further than that, Dale was a professional after all, and what could he possibly see in a rookie agent like you? You never told him but somehow you could sense he knew that you always felt a bit insecure being his partner. You were always afraid of letting him down or being the reason a case went south. You knew it was doomed and a pathetic cliche, but you had grown quite fond of him and were desperate for his approval. And that's not all you were desperate for…

You always thought he was handsome and charming and had just accepted it for what it was. But after seeing him work, the way his mind would reel trying to solve a case, the way he was so kind and careful with a victim's family and those in pain. You couldn't help but feel yourself grow more and more attracted to him.

Sometimes when working late at night his large hand would accidentally brush up against yours when going to grab another file amongst the mess of papers on the desk. Electricity would shoot up your hand and travel down your body to places where it probably shouldn't. He would mumble a "sorry" as you brushed it off, trying to look lost in whatever you were reading and not thinking about those hands. So much bigger than your own, so experienced. You imagined what they could be capable of in the right situation, the way they would rub that spot in between your thighs, stretch you out and become wet with your arousal. How he would make a mess of you as you reached closer and closer to that delicious breaking point.

At this point, you would shift in your seat, trying to alleviate the intense need for him beginning to pool in your panties. Sometimes, you thought you could feel his eyes fall on you and linger a little longer than usual when you did. You were almost certain he could read your thoughts, often sharing a new theory with you that you were just about to bring up yourself. You secretly wished he could, that would be a lot easier than actually telling him how you felt. Telling him wasn't an option, you couldn't risk compromising your partnership if he didn't feel the same way. So you kept it all inside, frustration building with each new case and each hour spent with your special agent.

You often found yourself having to relieve that tension in the wee hours of the morning when you couldn't sleep. Your own fingers taking his place, slipping in and out of yourself, imagining you and Dale in an array of naughty and scandalous scenarios until your desperation reached it's climax.

Dale's POV. It had been 2.25 hours since the special agent had recorded his final comments to send to his trusty assistant. He had had a smug, prideful grin on his face, "Diane remind me to tell agent y/l/n how impressed I was with her work today and how she has continuously proven herself to be a highly skilled and valued member of the bureau and well, just a lovely partner. I will report back to you tomorrow with details of the interrogation of Laura's two classmates. This is Special Agent Dale Cooper saying, goodnight." he placed down the recorder and turned off the light, more than ready to rest after a long day of investigatory work.

It was approximately 2 and a half hours later that he was woken by a thump coming from the wall right where his bed ended and his head lay on the plush hotel pillow. He kept very still, eyes wide, trying to see through the darkness of the room. Another smaller thump followed by a bigger sound made him lean over and grab his recorder, "Diane, I ask you again to please express post those earplugs to my room at the Great Northern. It appears that whatever animals that have been having relations in the walls for the past week have returned tonight for another session. Note that February must be mating season in Twin Peaks. Another note, the Great Northern has excellent coffee but very thin walls." He placed the recorder down and sighed deeply, closing his eyes when he heard another thump followed by another sound entirely. It sounded like a high pitched squeal coming from one of the animals, "at least the animals are getting some action" he said to himself with a sigh.

It was an unfortunate part of the job. Maintaining any romantic relationship was hard due to the travelling nature of his work and becoming involved with anyone he met along the way was against his guidelines as it could compromise the case. To put it shortly, he hadn't infact been intimate with a women in a long long time. He pushed himself closer to the wall and placed his ear against its coolness, maybe if he could figure out what animal it was the staff could find a way to expel the creatures.

Upon getting closer the muffled sounds became a lot clearer. He could now tell that it wasn't an animal at all. It was a human voice, a woman's voice, it was familiar to him. It was his partner's voice… He quickly shrugged back down into the covers, a million thoughts passing through his mind and one particular feeling shooting straight down into his crotch. "Agent y/l/n, no it couldn't be." He thought eyes wide with shock and confusion.

He had thought she'd taken this work seriously. she knows the risk of getting involved with people while on a case, especially in a town as small and tight-knit as Twin Peaks. Who could it be? He wondered an unexpected feeling of possessiveness rising up from his chest. He heard another more pronounced moan come from behind his head, more desperate in nature. He felt cock twitch in his pants and shifted around a bit, trying to keep his mind and body distracted by who the mystery man was. Harry is seeing Ms Packard so it wasn't him. It could be Hawk but he hadn't picked up on any tension between the two. It definitely wasn't Andy, he wasn't her type. She had spent 90% of her time in the town with him, so who was it and why was this getting on his nerves so much?

Yes his partner was exceedingly beautiful and intelligent and he would often have death stare the slimey men that would ogle at her when she would get dressed up to go undercover. The way he would sit in anticipation every morning waiting for her to join him for breakfast and how his heart would race every time their bodies would press up against each other trying to avoid gunfire didn't go noticed to him. He had pegged all that down to adrenaline and not having been this close to a woman for a long time. Except this feeling he had now… Knowing that there could be another man in her life, touching her, kissing her, making her scream. it was all too much. All at once the feelings he had pushed down for so long rose up to the surface and he had half the mind to go into that room, grab whoever was in there by the collar and beat them bloody for touching his girl… Well, his partner, he mentally corrected himself.

He hadn't realised it but while lost in his thoughts his hand had travelled down to the bulge that had formed in his pants and he was palming himself, rubbing his aching cock to the sounds of his partner in the next room. The agent felt ashamed but her whimpers were too much for him and he knew he wouldn't sleep at all that night unless he felt his release. He pulled himself out of his shorts, he was uncomfortably hard and his length slapped right up against his abdomen. He let out a relieved sigh as he circled the beads of precum that had leaked from his tip using them to help slick his member as he started slowly stroking. His hips bucked at the sensation, face painted with ecstasy. He felt the urge to make sounds to further release his pleasure but knew he had to stay quiet. If he could hear her, she would definitely be able to hear him.

He wondered what she would think. Would she be disgusted or would it turn her on further knowing her sensible and trustworthy partner was touching himself madly at the sounds and thought of her current predicament? this idea pulled him closer to the edge as he added more pressure to his movements, sliding his hand at an impossibly fast pace up and down his cock, hips bucking and sweat building around his temples. He tried his best not to think about the third person in this situation, not wanting anything to distract him from his impending orgasm.

It was as if his partner had read his mind because it seemed that she too was close to climaxing, her cries becoming more and more laboured. He was so so close to release, about to tip over the edge when he heard a sound that he never thought he would hear in his wildest dreams or fantasies. The familiar voice called out in pleasure a singular name into the nightly abyss, "Oh Dale, ohh fuckk". The proclamation was followed by a lengthy moan and then the silence of the night returned.

The detective halted all movement his seed pumping out of him, spilling onto his stomach. He lay there with his eyes and mouth open shocked at what he just heard and disappointed at his ruined climax. "I must be going insane", he thought to himself, "there's no way she just said my name as she-" he just couldn't believe it. As one agent on one side of the wall fell into a deep frustration free sleep, the other lay in his bed wide awake. Unable to shake the millions of thoughts now cluttering his already busy mind. He wouldn't get any sleep that night but he knew one thing for sure…

He needed her desperately and after tonight there was no going back.

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[kevinsreviewcatalogue]

Review: Lisa Frankenstein (2024)

Lisa Frankenstein (2024)

Rated PG-13 for violent content, bloody images, sexual material, language, sexual assault, teen drinking and drug content

<Originally posted at https://kevinsreviewcatalogue.blogspot.com/2024/02/review-lisa-frankenstein-2024.html>

Score: 3 out of 5

Lisa Frankenstein is a vibes movie. Despite having been heavily marketed on the fact that it was written by Diablo Cody, the writer of Jennifer's Body (who has said that the two films take place in the same universe), her screenplay is actually one of the film's weak links, falling apart in the third act as the plot starts to get weird and disjointed in a way that left me wondering just how many scenes got rewritten or left on the cutting room floor. No, it's the cast and director Zelda Williams (daughter of Robin) who put this movie over the top, crafting a film that feels like if a young Tim Burton directed Weird Science in the best possible way. (In the interview with Cody that the Alamo Drafthouse showed before the film, she cited both Weird Science and Edward Scissorhands as inspirations, alongside Bride of Frankenstein and The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, and I'm not surprised.) It's at its best as a pure comedy, one that sends up its nostalgic '80s setting to the point of farce and pushes the PG-13 rating as far as it can go. I'm not surprised that, much like Jennifer's Body did in its initial run, this movie failed to find its audience in theaters (though releasing it on Super Bowl weekend probably didn't help), but while I don't think it'll be treated as an outright classic in ten years' time, I do believe it'll follow a very similar trajectory of being rediscovered on home video and streaming.

Set in suburban Illinois in 1989, our protagonist is Lisa Swallows, a teenage girl who's been moody and morose ever since her mom was killed by an axe murderer two years ago, followed by her father Dale remarrying the obnoxious jackass Janet and thus gaining a stepsister in the cheerleader Taffy. She likes to hang out at the old cemetery, where, one night after going to a party where she accidentally takes hallucinogens and subsequently gets sexually harassed, she runs off and tells one of the men buried there that she wishes she was "with him" (i.e. dead). Something must've been miscommunicated, because that night, that grave is struck by lightning and its occupant rises from the dead, trying to find Lisa and be with her. Lisa is initially horrified, but soon realizes that, beneath this creature's rotten exterior, there's actually a romantic soul who longs to be human again. And after tragedy strikes, Lisa decides to find a way to make her new boyfriend's dream a reality... no matter who gets in her way.

The first two acts of this film felt like they were building to something very interesting. The thing about the best takes on Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, not least of all the 1931 Universal classic, is that they recognize that the real "monster" is in fact Dr. Frankenstein himself, the creature's creator, and this film leans heavily in that direction with its depiction of Lisa. She eagerly starts killing people in order to build the perfect boyfriend, getting sucked into darkness as she's blinded by love, and Kathryn Newton completely steals the show playing her, starting the film as a dowdy, depressed dweeb but eventually developing a gothic fashion sense and, with it, a catty diva-like attitude while channeling a young Winona Ryder in both Beetlejuice and Heathers. There were many places that this film could've gone, most of them involving Lisa becoming a full-bore villain while Taffy suddenly finds herself in her stepsister's path, with the creature either serving as Lisa's partner in crime from start to finish or perhaps slowly gaining a sense of morality as he becomes more "human" and realizing that Lisa is evil. All the while, the Frankenstein metaphor becomes one about somebody who'd do anything for love, including that, and loses herself in the process. And at times, it seemed to be going in that direction, especially as Taffy grows increasingly traumatized over the course of the film.

Unfortunately, whether it was the PG-13 rating or a desire to make Lisa more sympathetic (and Taffy less so), the film won't commit to the bit. Lisa's characterization does a near-total 180 in the third act as the film asks us to side with her as, at the very least, a sympathetic anti-villain with good intentions. Lisa should've been the bad guy that the film was building her up as, no ifs, ands, or buts -- a sympathetic and compelling one like Jennifer Check, but still somebody who crossed the line miles ago and never looked back. It would've given Liza Soberano, who plays Taffy and will probably be the breakout star of this film, more to do instead of making her a supporting player in Lisa's story who plays only a minor role in the third act. Instead, it felt like I was watching a whole new character entirely that just so happened to share Lisa's name and face. I highly suspect that there's a lot of alternate material here, either in earlier drafts of the screenplay or deleted scenes, because the sudden tonal shift in the third act feels like a product of a completely different movie.

What saved this film in the end were the style and the humor. Much like Karyn Kusama on Jennifer's Body, Zelda Williams imbues this film with a ton of gothic flair, Lisa's outfits being just the start of it, inspired by Tim Burton and, by extension, the German expressionism that he in turn drew from. The bright pink suburban house that Lisa and her family live in is almost cartoonish, and draws a sharp contrast to the world around it. The moment we're introduced to Carla Gugino as Lisa's stepmother, a hilariously over-the-top parody of an '80s suburban mom who needlessly antagonizes Lisa every chance she gets, and Joe Chrest as her spectacularly inattentive father who looks the part of a wholesome suburban dad but otherwise can't be bothered to look up from his newspaper, we see exactly the kind of people who'd happily live in a house like that. There are multiple animated sequences that liven up the film throughout, most notably the prologue/opening credits showing us the creature's backstory in life. The soundtrack is filled with great retro '80s needle drops, especially once the creature regains the use of his hands and can play the piano again. Cole Sprouse as the creature had no dialogue barring grunts, moans, and screams, but he still made for a compelling presence on screen as the other half of the film's central romance, proving that seven years on Riverdale was a waste of a lot of young actors' talents. This was Williams' first feature film, and if this is indicative of her skill behind the camera, I can see her going far. And most importantly, this movie is hysterical. The entire theater was laughing throughout, and I was right there with them. There are jokes about everything from "back massagers" to the creature's physical decay, and more broadly, its campy gothic tone is played far more for laughs than frights, most notably in one death scene that would be the most brutal in the film on the face of it but is instead one of the most hilarious scenes in it as the film shows us just enough to let us know exactly what happened and wince while still remaining PG-13. Cody's grasp of storytelling may have been shaky here, but her knack for getting me to laugh my ass off remains fully intact.

The Bottom Line

Lisa Frankenstein should've had more care put into its screenplay, especially once act three comes around, but it's still a very funny and watchable movie that, much like Jennifer's Body, I can see enduring as a cult classic. If you're not into the Big Game, check it out.

[mothguillotine]

III.

As soon as the doors open, you all rush into the CDC. You make sure that Jesse, Gracie, and Adi all make it inside the building.

“Daryl, you cover the back.” Shane tells him.

“Hello? Hello?” Rick asks into the building.

“Close those doors. Watch for walkers.” Dale tells you.

“Hello?” Rick asks the man now standing in a doorway. He is holding a rifle in his hands.

“Anybody infected?” the doctor asks.

“One of our group was. He didn't make it.” Rick tells him.

“Why are you here? What do you want?” the doctor asks.

“A chance.” Rick responds.

“That's asking an awful lot these days.” the doctor says back to him.

“I know.” Rick tells him.

“You all submit to a blood test. That's the price of admission.” says, looking at all of you.

“We can do that.” Rick tells him.

“You got stuff to bring in. You do it now.” the doctor tells you, “Once this door closes, it stays closed.”

Everyone runs outside, grabbing all of their belongings. You and Jesse grabbed the bags of your belongings before following the rest of the group into the building again.

“VI, seal the main entrance. Kill the power up here.” the doctor says to whoever VI is.

“Rick Grimes.” Rick introduces himself to the doctor.

Once everyone is back inside of the building from grabbing their things, you follow the doctor into an elevator.

“Dr.Edwin Jenner.” the doctor introduces himself as.

“Doctors always go around packing heat like that?” Daryl asks Jenner.

“There were plenty left lying around. I familiarized myself.” Jenner tells you, “But you look harmless enough. except you, I'll have to keep my eye on you” he says specifically to Carl.

All of the group follow Dr. Jenner into a room where he sits all of you down to draw blood. When it's your turn you take off the flanel you were wearing to make it easier for him to take your blood. After you it's Jesse’s turn, and while it's no secret to you, everyone is very amused when they find out about Jesse’s fear of needles.

“It’s very rational, there is something underneath your skin taking blood from you. It’s horrible to think about.” he tells the group after he sees them laughing. After Jesse is done it's time for Andrea.

“What's the point? If we were infected,we'd all be running a fever.” Andrea asks Jenner.

“I've already broken every rule in the book letting you in here. Let me just at least be thorough.” He says before continuing to draw her blood, “All done.”

As she stands up she nearly falls over from lack of nutrients before Jacqui catches her.. You all have not had a true meal in days and it's starting to show.

“Are you okay?” Jenner asks Andrea. Andrea only hm’s in response.

“She hasn’t eaten in days. None of us have.” Jacqui informs Jenner.

After hearing the news about your lack of food Jenner tells you that there is a kitchen full of food. You all don’t waste any time preparing food for the lot of you. Specifically pasta and wine. Things that you could only dream of tasting again. All of you have a great time, watching Carl try wine for the first time, all of you making jokes.

“Most of the facility is powered down including housing so you'll have to make do here. The couches are comfortable, but there are cots in storage if you like.” Jenner tells you leading the group down a hall with many different rooms, “There's a rec room down the hall that you kids might enjoy. Just don't plug in the video games, okay? Or anything that draws power. The same applies—if you shower, go easy on the hot water”

“Hot water?” Glenn asks.

“That's what the man said.” T-Dog responds.

“Where?” you ask him.

So there you were standing under the hot water letting it run over your blood stained skin.

Everything about this place felt too good to be true. You knew it, you knew that at least one other person would be thinking it as well. You wished that your gut was wrong and that Gracie and Adi would finally be safe somewhere.

When you get out of the shower a few minutes later you follow laughter into the rec room. The freshly clean Sophia, Carl, Adi, and Carol are all sitting on the couches together.

“Finally being clean is a relief.” you tell Carol, “I was getting tired of the whole bloody look.”

“Yeah, getting all of the dirt out of my hair was amazing.” she tells you laughing.

You find yourself going over to the books, picking out a few you sit down in a chair near the others and start reading.

“Any good books?” Lori asks when she walks into the room.

“A few, but nothing like the books I used to have back at my apartment.” you tell her.

“What? No good romance?” she asks you.

“Sadly they have an abundance of those I'm talking about ghost stories.” you tell her.

“Really? You don’t take me as the type to like ghost stories.” she confesses to you.

“Well I guess i'm just a surprising character.” you tell her grinning.

She then leaves with Carl and a bit after that Carol leaves with Sophia. So then it’s just you and Adi.

“What are you reading?” Adi asks you.

“I am reading Lord of the Flies.” you tell her.

“What is it about?” she asks you.

“It’s about boys who have to learn to live on an island together.” you tell her, leaving out all of the death and symbolism of the devil.

“Can you read it to me?” she asks you.

“You know what Adi, It’s getting late. You should get ready for bed and go to sleep.” you tell her, “Maybe I will read it to you tomorrow.”

“I don’t wanna go to sleep.” she says, “I’m not even tired.”

You both sit in silence for a while while you read. Until she breaks the silence.

“Are we safe?” she asks you.

“I- I think so. There are walls and security.” you reassure her even though you don’t believe it yourself.

“I hope we are safe. All of us.” she tells you before yawning.

A few minutes later you look over to find her asleep on the couch. You continue to read the book until your eyes are burning with how tired you are.

“It’s late, why aren't y'all in bed.” Daryl asks you coming into the room.

“Adi said she wasn’t that tired,” you tell him, “besides if this doesn’t last long I don’t wanna regret sleeping through the time we were here.”

“You dont think this will last long?” he asks you.

“I think it's too good. Hot water, food, beds, security.” you tell him, shaking your head, “I wanna believe that we all can live here but this is too good, and not enough bad.”

He thinks for a moment while you stand up grabbing the few books you found, putting them in a bag.

“I don’ trust it either,” he says, agreeing with you.

“I guess we should enjoy it while we have it. You should take a shower while we are here.” you add on by saying, “I bet you don’t clean up bad.”

“Yeah, whatever.” he says leaving the room, hopefully to follow your advice and take a shower.

You go over to the room where Jesse and Gracie are asleep, to grab a few blankets and pillows for you and Adi. When you go back into the room you find that Adi already has a blanket and pillow. Someone put some for you while you were out of the room.

“Good night Adaline,” you tell her, kissing the top of her head, “don’t let the bed bugs bite.”

The next morning you find the group making breakfast. T-Dog is making eggs that aren't actually eggs, everyone is laughing and talking again like the night before. Many people have hangovers from the long night of drinking.

“Don’t ever ever ever let me drink again.” Glenn repeats himself to reveal just how important him not drinking is.

You also notice that Daryl in fact took your advice to shower and he doesn't look like a pig. You were also right about him looking better after showering. You walkover to where the coffee is and pour yourself a cup. Even after sleeping in compared to the rest of the group you still are tired and need more energy.

“Hey, Doc.” Shane greets Jenner.

“Doctor. I don’t mean to slam you with questions first thing-” Dale starts.

“But you will anyways.” Jenner finishes.

“We didn’t come here for the eggs,” Andrea tells Jenner.

Jenner then leads you into the main room with dozens of different monitors and a larger screen on the wall.

“Give me a playback of TS-19.” Jenner tells VI.

“Playback of TS-19.” VI annonces to the group.

The group of you watch the screen and see a scan of a head. You watch as the head slowly dies. The brain that was once glowing becomes dark.

“What was that?” Glenn asks Dr. Jenner.

“It invades the brain like meningitis.” Jenner starts to explain, “The adrenal glands hemorrhage, the brain goes into shutdown, then the major organs. Then death. Everything you ever were or ever will be...gone.”

“Is that what happened to Jim?” Sophia asks Carol.

“Yes.” Carol tells her daughter.

After comforting Andrea about losing her sister, Jenner brings up another recording. This time it's the reanimation of the brain. You watch as the neck area of the brain lights up again but this time in red.

“It restarts the brain?” Lori asks.

“No,just the brain stem. Basically,it gets them up and moving.” He tells Lori.

“But they're not alive?” Rick asks.

“You tell me.” he says, gesturing to the monitor.

“It's nothing like before. Most of that brain is dark.” Rick says answering his own question.

“Dark, lifeless, dead. The frontal lobe, the neocortex, the human part—that doesn't come back. The you part. Just a shell driven by mindless instinct.” Jenner tells the group.

Then the test subject starts to move again. This time you can tell by the jerky movements of the patient that they are alive again but not fully.

“God, what was that?” Carol asks Dr. Jenner.

“He shot his patient in the head.” Andrea says, “Didn���t you?”

“VI, power down the main screens and the workstations.” Jenner says to VI ignoring Andrea’s question.

The group then starts asking the doctor about what the sickness is, where people are still learning about the sickness, and if anyone even is still alive.

“So it's not just here. There's nothing left anywhere? Nothing? That's what you're really saying, right?” Andrea asks Dr. Jenner.

“Jesus.” Jacqui exclaims.

“Man, I'm gonna get shitfaced drunk again.” Daryl says.

“I am right there with you.” you tell Daryl.

“Dr. Jenner, I know this has been taxing for you and I hate to ask one more question, but...that clock—it's counting down. What happens at zero?” Dale asks Jenner.

“The basement generators--they run out of fuel.” Jenner tells us.

“And then?” Rick asks, Jenner then leaves the room, ignoring the question.

“VI,what happens when the power runs out?” Rick asks VI instead.

“When the power runs out, facility-wide decontamination will occur.” VI responds.

“What does she mean decontamination?” you ask.

A few members of the group, including Jesse, go down into the basement to find out what is going on with the generators. You decided instead to go and start packing up your things.

“What are you doing?” Adi asks you.

“We are packing up our thighs to leave.” you tell her.

“But this place is safe, you told me it would be safe.” she says.

“I was wrong, it's not safe. I was wrong, I'm sorry.” you tell her before continuing to pack yours, Jesse’s, Gracies, and Adi’s things.

Suddenly you hear the air conditioning stop. You hear Lori and Dale talking to Jenner in the hall but he doesn’t say anything. He continues walking towards the main room. Everyone, who was still in the rooms in the halls, walk after Jenner. You grab Adi and pick up Gracie and follow the group of people.

“Jenner what is happening?” Rick asks the doctor.

“The system is dropping all the nonessential uses of power. It's designed to keep the computers running to the last possible second. That started as we approached the half-hour mark. Right on schedule.” He tells us, “It was the French.”

“What?” Andrea asks him.

He then goes on to explain that the French were close to a solution when their power went out. That they were the last ones and how stupid fossil fuel is.

“To Hell with it, Shane. I don't even care. Lori, grab our things. Everybody, get your stuff. We're getting out of here now!” Rick tells the group.

Everybody goes to leave and grab their things when the doors close on you.

“No. Did you just lock us in?” Glenn asks, “He just locked us in!”

Then everyone starts freaking out, most of all Daryl. He runs at the doctor with the bottle. Shane and Rick hold him back before he can get a shot in.

“Hey, Jenner, open that door now.” Rick tells him.

“There's no point. Everything topside is locked down. The emergency exits are sealed.” he says to Rick.

“Well open the damn things.” Daryl says to Jenner.

“We need to get out of here.” you say to Jenner.

“That's not something I control. The computers do. I told you once that front door closed, it wouldn't open again. You heard me say that. It's better this way

“What is? What happens in 28 minutes? What happens in 28 minutes?!” Rick yells.

“Come on!” Daryl yells at Jenner.

“You know what this place is?! We protected the public from very nasty stuff! Weaponized smallpox! Ebola strains that could wipe out half the country! Stuff you don't want getting out! Ever!” Jenner yells, “In the event of a catastrophic power failure—in a terrorist attack, for example—H.I.T.s are deployed to prevent any organisms from getting out.”

“H.I.Ts?” Rick asks.

“Vi,define.” Jenner tells the computer.

“H.I.T.s—high-impulse thermobaric fuel-air explosives consist of a two-stage aerosol ignition that produces a blast wave of significantly greater power and duration than any other known explosive except nuclear. The vacuum-pressure effect ignites the oxygen at between 5,000 degrees and 6,000 degrees and is useful when the greatest loss of life and damage to structures is desired.” VI explains.

“It sets the air on fire. Jenner tells you while Carol and Sophia are crying, “An end to sorrow,grief...regret. Everything.”

“So what you're saying is that we are going to be lit on fire that is so hot we die instantaneously?” you ask him, “What about the children?”

He ignores you. You go up to him and punch him in the face. It looks like it hurts you way more than it hurts him. While this happens people arm themselves with axes and start swinging at the door.

“Y/N!” Shane shouts at you and holds you back from hitting him again.

“Fuck you! Who are you to decide who lives and dies!” you yell at him, “They are children!”

“You know what's out there. A short brutal life and an agonizing death.” he yells at all of you, “Your sister what was her name?”

“Amy.” Andrea responds.

“Amy. You know what this does. You've seen it.” he says to her, “ Is that what you really want for your wife and son?”

“I don't want this!” Rick tells him.

“Can't make a dent.” Daryl tells Shane.

“Those doors are designed to withstand a rocket launcher.” Jenner tells them.

“Well, your head ain't!” Daryl yells at him and goes to swing at him with the axe. Shane lets go of you and helps Rick and Dale hold Daryl back.

“Daryl! Daryl!” Rick shouts at him, “Just back up. Back up.”

You go over to where Adi is holding Gracie on her lap. You sit down on the ground with them. Adi looks up at you. She is crying silently, she understands what is going on.

“Hey, everything is gonna be okay.” you tell her, starting to tear up yourself.

“Why is he doing this?” she asks you.

“I don’t know.” you tell her, “He thinks what he is doing is alright.”

Jesse comes over to us and leans down. He pulls all three of us in for a hug.

“That’s all we want- a choice, a chance.” Rick tells Jenner.

“Let us keep trying as long as we can.” Lori pleads with him.

“I told you that topides locked down.” he says, “I can’t open those.”

He then walks over to the keypad and opens the doors.

“Come on!” Daryl yells at all of you.

You grab all of the bags of your belongings and run to the stairs to get out of the building. When the group gets to the main floor of the building the doors are in fact locked like Jenner said.

“Daryl!” Shane yells and tosses the axe to Daryl. They both start hitting the glass to no avail.

T-Dog runs at the glass with a chair and when that still doesn’t work Shane starts unloading bullets on it. Nothing is working.

“Rick, I have something that might work.” she tells him handing him a grenade.

All of you back away from the window and Rick pulls the pin and it explodes. The glass shatters and all of you run towards the hole in the window.

All of you run towards the vehicles and get into a truck with Daryl. Right when you are about to leave you see Andrea and Dale coming out of the building. In the rush of getting out you hadn’t even noticed they were gone.

“Get down! Get down!” you hear Lori shout at the escapees.

They get behind a barrier of sandbags when the building explodes. It’s insane looking. The flames escape out of the windows of the building.

Dale and Andrea run and get into the RV. You all drive away from the destruction of the CDC. You check on your family. They were all there, alive. Unlike Jacqui who stayed with Jenner.

<Previous Part/Next Part>

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Harley D. Dixon 17

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📖Chapter List.

Author's Note. I'm so sorry for not updating for so long!! 😣 Please enjoy!

Warning for mentions of suicide in this chapter.

"You promised me we were safe here."

Rick's raisin' his voice again. That's how I know things are bad.

"You promised me our children were safe here. Our son. Daryl's daughter. Where are these walkers comin' from?"

My Dad drags me up the porch steps, his boots going stomp, stomp, stomp against the planks as he beelines for the back door.

Dale hurries after us, hissing under his breath that we can't go confronting 'em on this, not right now, but my Dad don't listen to him.

"My girl almost got ate just now." He scolds Dale, before shoving past the rickety door. "These people gon' answer for it."

Another haven ruined. Seems everywhere we go, there's one more disaster waiting to sink its teeth into us, and here it is again. Thinking we're safe and knowing we ain't is a cycle I'm coming to live with. I'm not sure there's anywhere left in the world for me to feel safe, except maybe in my Dad's arms, but even those are bloodied. As we enter the house, the argument ricochets loudly from down the hall. There's Rick, standing next to Shane as he groans and grunts under the point of a suture needle, brows taut; knuckles white. Patricia and Jacqui, fussing over him with cotton pads and disinfectant. Herschel, frowning hard. And blood. Always, always blood.

"I am sorry," Herschel booms, "That this has happened, but as I've said from the very beginning, this is my property. My home."

There are aspects to this that I can't and won't discuss.

Aspects, meaning dead people in the barn. Dead, and rotten, and not-themselves people. I can't understand why they'd do such a thing.

"Daddy, why're they keepin' those people in the barn?" Nervously chewing on my thumb, I try to keep up with my Dad as he storms toward the crowded dining room, but his strides are real angry-like, and I can't hardly keep up. Keepin' dead people in a barn, li— like pets. "Why?"

"We're gonna find out."

"And these are my people." Rick's volume startles even Lori. "I'm responsible for their safety. I'm the one who trusted your word on this."

"What about your word, Rick? That your group would abide by my rules? There was almost a murder here tonight."

"I swear on everything, I had no intentions of that happenin'."

I hate shouting. Boy, do I hate, hate, hate shouting.

"Hey, Greene." As soon as we pass through the archway, my Dad interrupts everyone. "You got sum' you might wanna tell us 'boutcher barn?"

All heads snap in our direction.

"I think you've done enough for tonight, young man." Herschel warns. "All of you... have done more than enough."

But Rick wants to hear what he has to say. "Hang on. Whatchu sayin', Daryl?"

"You wanna know where all these walkers been comin' from, right?" He announces to the room, "Well, they're keeping 'em in the barn."

Shock runs through our group.

Lori exclaims, "What?"

Herschel's gaze falls to the floor, as if ashamed, or angry, or maybe even both. It's usually both.

"There's a break in the side panelling. We found it just now. They been sneakin' out; fallin' into wells," He gestures to me passionately, "And tearin' up kids. We're sleepin' next to a damn horror house and we ain't even realize it, 'cause these people ain't said a damn word about it."

"You were only supposed to be here a few days." Maggie gets defensive. "We don't owe you an explanation for anythin'."

He scoffs, "And what if Harley got bit just now? 'Cause'a your lil' walker friends? Would you owe me one then?"

Dale takes a step forward, hands placatingly held up in front of him. "Hey, now. I'm sure you've had your reasons for keeping this a secret, and I didn't want to say anything, but... truthfully, this is something that concerns us, whether this is our property or not. We have children with us."

"You're right, it's not your property." I can see Herschel's scowl even under all his moustache hair. "And it's not your decision, either."

Dad raises his brows. "To keep a bunch of feral animals near yer house?"

"They are not feral animals." Slam! His hand comes down on the table, making me jump. "My wife and stepson are in there. They are people!"

I've never seen Herschel this upset before. I didn't even know he could get upset.

"People?" Shane bares his blood-smeared teeth. "You think those crazy things out there are people?"

"A paranoid schizophrenic is crazy, but we don't shoot sick people." Herschel insists. "We help them. We rehabilitate them."

He shakes his head. "This ain't right. This ain't even remotely right."

There's a heavy pause.

I know walkers ain't sick, 'cause I seen 'em come back, again and again, with no heart, one lung, half a head, a missing leg, jaw, eye, spine.

I know that dead means dead.

But Herschel thinks he can treat them, like someone with a cold.

"With all due respect," Dale sighs, approaching this topic with caution. "You're cut off from the outside world here. If you watched the same broadcasts we did... If you saw the things we've seen—" Amy, dead. Morales, dead. Blood, and bullets, and a bite mark on a friend's arm, followed by a bang on a warm afternoon. Destruction, over and over. "—Your opinion would change. Those things out there, they kill."

"Hell, look what just happened." Shane butts in. "They almost tore into a little girl; would'a chewed her to the bone. That ain't sick, that's feral."

Patricia frowns, "Watch your tone."

"You're talking about this like your safety is at jeopardy, here, but you're free to leave at any time." Herschel raises his head, and I can tell just by the look on his face that he's an old dog that refuses to learn a new trick, and that makes me worry. "In fact, I think it's best you do."

Oh, no. He don't mean that, do he?

"We're not leaving." Rick suddenly intervenes, expression hard as stone. "That's not possible."

"You told me to reconsider. This is me doing exactly that." He purses his thin lips, and spits, "You are no longer welcome on my farm."

Oh. He does.

Dad's hand tightens around mine.

His words are like a hard punch to the guts for all of us.

"Everything that's happened tonight has only reminded me why I was so hesitant to let you stay in the first place. A knife was pulled; a man almost killed. It's clear your group has issues I don't want my family to suffer the consequences of. So you either all leave at first light, or you choose one of these two men to leave on their own, instead, and hope nothing like this happens again. Either way, I want a decision made right now."

An ultimatum. That's when people threaten each other but nobody can't do nothin' about it.

When I look at Rick, his mouth is open as if to speak, but there's nothin' he can say to justify tonight, so he shuts it with a stressed sigh.

Leave? Tomorrow? No, no, no. I don't want this. We need to stay. We need to find Sophia. I don't want to give up jam and eggs and soft, linen blankets, or the swing hanging from the old oak tree, or how it's so quiet out here that you can hear the sound of crickets chirping in the grass. If this were a couple months ago, Dad might've just volunteered to be the one to leave, but things have changed. These people are our people, now.

If I had to choose between everyone leaving, Dad and me leaving, and Shane leaving, I know who I'd pick.

I picked days ago.

"We can't all leave." Carol distresses, fiddling with her necklace. "We can't. My daughter is still out there."

"That's why we're gonna have to think about this." Rick explains, eyes locked with Shane. He's picked, too. "Something has to be done."

More glances thrown around; more worrying.

It's either Dad or Shane, then. It's always either Dad or Shane.

"We decide together on this." Dale assures everyone, glancing at Rick, who we all know will get final say. "This is a democracy, here."

I don't know what a duh-maw-crah-see is, but I do know that it won't save us from the terrible argument that's about to happen.

"You wanna kick anybody out, make it Daryl." Shane nods in our direction, nostrils flared angrily like a bull that's seeing red. "He's the one that pulled that knife on me, not even one day after gettin' back on his feet. We all saw it. He can't help himself. He's an animal, and a threat."

"I go, Harley goes wit' me." Dad retorts. "You wanna send a kid to her death just 'cause you ain't right in the head?"

He shrugs, "Maybe she'll just have to stay here, then."

"Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"That's out of the question." Rick shuts down the idea. "Harley and Daryl, they stay together. They're family. We need to think rationally about this."

"If 'rational' means throwin' me out instead'a Daryl, then I don't accept that."

Rick's frustration starts to show again. "It doesn't matter what you accept, Shane. This is what's best for the group. The greater good. They taught us that in training, day one. You know that. Save as many people as possible with as little casualties as possible. That's my rationality."

"That's all I am to you? A casualty?"

"If it's between kicking a father and his child to the curb, and you, after what you've done," Rick says, "Then I think you know the answer."

What you've done.

"This is nuts." He chuckles emptily. "I didn't do anythin'. I was attacked. I got two, four, six witnesses here that'll tell you the same thing."

Rick gives him a look similar to watching a baby bird try to fly with a broken wing, and says plainly, "I'm not talking about tonight, Shane."

He's talking about shooting Dad.

This is it. We're kicking Shane out. We're really doing it.

"You need to re-think this." Shane flat-out refuses. "'Cause I know for a fact, Rick, you ain't as dumb as all that. You wanna kick out your best friend of fifteen years, the man — the brother — who's stood by your side since the day we met, over this— this goddamn redneck piece o—"

"Watcher mouth!" Dad barks.

"Piece of shit?" He doubles down, a cornered, angry dog. "Him? Look at my shoulder and tell me that's a good idea! You tell me!"

"Look at his stomach!" Glenn retorts incredulously, his voice shrill as he points across the room at Dad. "You shot him!"

Lori startles, pulling Carl's head into her chest, covering his ears.

Shane roars, "And you think I did that for no reason, huh? Think I'm just some kinda psycho?"

Maggie chides, "Lower your voice!"

"We don't shoot one of our own!"

"For Christ's sake—"

I can tell in this next moment that everything is about to come apart. I wanna stop it, but I can't.

"He beats her, people!" There it is. Oh, God. Shane shoots up from his chair; grabs the edge of the table, shakes it a little, making the dishes rattle. Small gasps fill the room. Glances cut the air. I take a step back, a step behind my Dad, 'cause the only person I'm afraid of right now is Shane. "I saw it. Back at the CDC, night things went to Hell. Y'all wanna act like I'm the problem, do you? He's standin' right there! Right in front'a y'all!"

All I can think about as I watch the vein in Shane's neck pulse angrily is that I don't recognise this man at all.

"I shot him! And you know what? I say that with pride!" He tells everyone, unashamed, standing tall, outta his mind. "'Cause I did somethin'!"

What would happen if you told me the whole secret?

Something even worse would happen.

"I bet your brother was doin' the same thing, weren't he, Daryl?" Shane snides, before he scoffs. "Birds of a feather."

I watch in real time as the faces of our friends morph from shocked to confused to betrayed, until the whole room feels like an open bear trap.

Rick pins Dad with a— with a look. I ain't never seen a look like that. It's the strangest look in the world, like he wants to speak, but can't; won't.

Glenn stands there, his jaw slack; a kicked puppy dog.

I know Dad prolly wants to bolt. He prolly feels like he's been flayed open. It's none'a your business. I've heard that throughout my whole life, directed at concerned people at parks, teachers, neighbours, even Moms in the grocery store, whenever Merle would hit me for actin' up, or when Dad accidently chose a shirt for me that showed the bruise Grandpappy Dixon left there the night before. He prolly wants to deny it all once more, but he's stronger than that, now — stronger than Shane — so that's not what he does. Instead, he says, a little quietly, "That's not happenin', anymore. Things've changed. I've changed."

Shane finds that very funny. "Bullshit, you have. People like you Dixons never change."

People like you.

I never quite know what that means when people say that to us, but every time I hear it, I do know it's meant to hurt.

At least to Dad, I'm just me. That's all I wanna be.

He struggles to find anything to say to that, because deep down, I think he believes it. He will never be anythin' but a good for nothin' Dixon.

Just like Merle.

Just like my Grandpappy.

Just like every other piece of sorry trash that never made it out our trailer park. It took the apocalypse for us to make it out that place.

Carol braves the silence with her timid, shaking voice. "Is it true, Daryl?"

After a while, all he does is nod, 'cause what else is there?

She seems to crack at that, breaking down into little sobs that sound a hundred times louder than they really are. I think she's thinkin' of her husband. He was a little like Daddy. Sophia told me he was mean, sometimes, too, but back then I didn't know what that meant. Lori puts an arm around her shoulders, a deeply disappointed look on her face. Glenn has to sit down. Dale, he's revolted. And Rick, he just looks so, so tired.

Even though dinner was almost unbearable, and the food's gone stone cold by now, I still wish I was in that moment again.

"It wasn't Otis?" Patricia eventually utters. "He didn't shoot him?"

Oh, right. The dead man that took all the blame. I almost forgot about that.

Shane looks around the room, sees he's past the point of lying, and admits easily, "It was me." Then, he just can't help himself, 'cause he's always been that way, and he continues, "I shot Daryl, and I shot Otis, too." My stomach drops. What? He nods, feeling the way the confession sinks in like a drug. "That night at the college, I popped him in the kneecap, and I watched as the dead ones came down on him as I ran. He was holding the supplies. We brought those back, Daryl would'a had a good chance at survivin' surgery, and that wasn't an option for me. I see a threat, I eliminate it. That's the difference between me and y'all. I do what needs to be done and I don't feel a shred of guilt for it, neither, 'cause I did it for Harley. You wanna call me a murderer, that's fine with me. I know what I did. I know who I am."

He killed Otis? Watched him die? For what? For me?

I take in the appalled faces of the Greenes, like poor Maggie, eyes wide, and Herschel, being helped by Beth into his seat as he teeters lightheadedly, feeling like I somehow caused all of this. If I could go back in time, I wouldn't've said anythin' about Momma, and then I wouldn't have gotten beat, and Shane wouldn't've walked in on it or gotten mad or tried to be my friend, and Dad wouldn't be shot, and Otis would be alive.

But you can't go back in time, even if you really, really want to, because it just don't work like that.

Herschel slowly looks up at Shane, shaking with anger. "Rick, get this man off my farm at once."

It's Shane, then. That's the decision.

He tried to save me, but all he's done is doom a bunch of others, and doom himself.

He looks sidelong at his best friend of fifteen years, muttering uselessly, "Rick. You can't do this, brother."

But, yes, Rick can.

He tears his gaze away from Shane and gestures to Jacqui, ordering, "Finish sewin' him up, but nothin' more. He's gone tomorrow morning."

"Rick." He repeats desperately, brushing Jacqui off when she tries to make him sit down. "This is not the right choice."

"He gets his gun, with no bullets, and—"

"Rick."

"A small bag of provisions. That's it."

"Rick."

"He sleeps here tonight and takes his tent with him in the morning." He turns to his brother and spits, "I don't ever wanna see your face again."

I watch, my skin cold and tingling at the same time, as they stare at each other wordlessly, hostile but also hurt, knowing this is the end for them, and then I look up at my Dad. He watches on with an unreadable expression, even to me. My Dad's been found out, now, but Shane is also leaving. If this is what needed to happen for him to get kicked out, then I don't care. The greater good. Shane's leaving for the greater good.

"It doesn't have to be this way." Shane murmurs to Rick.

"I know that." He says. "But it's the way I want it."

I feel Dad stiffen as Shane turns his gaze on him.

"You don't deserve her." He chuckles defeatedly under his breath, squinting judgementally. "I'll always believe that."

Jacqui guides him back down again, and this time, he cooperates. As she pokes the needle under his skin, he looks directly at me.

If he could talk to me right now, I think he'd tell me somethin' like, I didn't want this. Because I know what he wants. He wanted Carl and Lori, and after that didn't work out, he wanted me. Only, it was impossible right from the start. My Dad would rather die than let him take me, and that's almost what happened. I look at him now and I still see the man who helped me catch that slippery frog on that sunny day, but I also see the blood. It's everywhere. His jaw, his neck, his chest, his arms, hands, thighs. Blood ruins everything. Only this time, it's his that got spilled.

He's leaving tomorrow.

I guess this is what duh-maw-crah-see means.

"We'll deal with you later." Rick utters to my Dad, before Herschel demands that everyone leave the house this instant.

This is exactly what I wanted, but for some reason, it don't feel as good as I thought it would.

Under the stars, again.

At least I'm in a change of clothes now, ones with no blood on them.

I rest in my Dad's lap in front of our crackling, burning fire, absentmindedly nibbling on my leftovers that Maggie packed into a tupperware container for me when we were forced out the house. She didn't give Dad any of his dinner, though. His plate of scrambled eggs got scraped into the trash right in front of him. He told me he didn't mind when I asked, I don't gotta give him any of mine. He ain't hungry, anyway. I believed him, and as I carried on eating, he cocked the pistol in his lap again, subtly scanning the dark skyline for any movement he ain't like the look of.

In the distance, the rest of our group starts putting out their fires and filing into their tents.

We got that barn to worry about, now.

I don't think any more walkers are gettin' out tonight, 'cause Rick and Glenn went over there about ten minutes ago and blocked the broken panel with some spare crates, but one thing my Dad's always been is prepared.

The barn's too far and too dark to see, but that somehow makes it worse. I imagine all those trapped, hungry bodies and quickly look away.

"Herschel thinks they're sick." I quietly recall, picking at my cold grilled cheese. "He wants to help 'em."

My wife and stepson are in there.

His wife and stepson are dead.

"Yeah, he does." Dad murmurs as a log in the fire crumbles. "But we know better, don't we?"

I nod. "Dead means dead."

"Dead means dead." He repeats. "So, don't go pokin' around there, again, a'right? You're smarter than that."

"I won't. S'just..."

He patiently waits for me to continue, but after I don't, he prompts, "What?"

Feeling a little silly, I admit, "I thought I saw Sophia."

He pauses at that. I stare into the grass, not wanting to meet his eyes, even as he reaches up to gently smooth out some of my fly-away hairs. Intently frowning up at me, he mutters, "Harley, I know you're worried, baby, but we're gonna find her. Girl like her can't'a gone far."

I mumble, "I guess I was just hopin' we was lucky."

"Luck don't exist." He reminds me. "Only strong people. And we're strong, ain't we?"

"Yeah." I agree, looking at him, now. "So, you think we're really gonna find her?"

He nods. "I think there's a good chance."

Content with that answer, I resume eating my food, but there's one thing I can't stop thinking about. "You think Shane's gonna die out there?"

His hand twitches around the gun. "Doesn't matter. Only thing that matters is he ain't gonna be around here, no more."

"I... I kinda hope he don't. Herschel says sick people can get better, and I think... I think Shane's like that, Dad. I think he's sick."

He frowns. "Why you think that?"

"He weren't always like this." I say, thinking back on times where he felt less like a stranger. "I'm still angry at him, but... I think I'm sad, too."

"You're allowed to feel that way." Dad reasons, holding back his own opinions, "Long as you know he deserves this, 'cause he does."

Rick and Glenn, even though they're angry with Dad right now, they were let in. My Dad accepted them, eventually, and now they get to look after me when he's busy with somethin' else, and help me out with things, kinda like my real Uncles used to do. The women, too. Lori and Jacqui and Carol, they lend me things and laugh with me like Aunties do. Shane could'a had that. But I know nothin' ever works out the way ya want it to. 

I'm thinkin' about Momma again. It happens before I can even stop it. She was sick in the head, too. Kinda like Shane.

I think Dad can tell where my mind's wandered, 'cause he says to me, "Nobody can help him, Harley."

I just don't know.

Before I even realize it, my chin crumples and my lip starts wobbling. I hate thinkin' about things like this.

"C'mere." He frowns, pulling my head down under his chin. "You're too good for this bullshit. Too young. Just eatcher food, baby."

"I don't think I'm hungry anymore." I whimper, wiping my nose.

"I don't care." He picks up my grilled cheese and rips some small chunks off. "Three bites."

I hesitate. "How 'bout just one?"

"Two, then. Come on." He hands me a piece. I take it reluctantly and push it past my lips. "You don't got nothin' to worry about. That's my job."

I pretend that's true for a moment and just focus on biting and chewing and swallowing; how hard it is to mess up. As a twinkling bundle of green-yellow fireflies dance over the distant long-grass, looking like tiny stars in their own right, I hear Dad check the gun again. A heavy, metal click. Violence and peace, always there. It reminds me of a night we had in the very beginning of all this, where I was trying to go to sleep in the truck, but the sounds of the bombs hitting the city were overpowering the lullaby Dad was singing, and all I could do was force myself to get used to it.

Adapt or die. Merle said that, once.

I hate Shane. I really do. He shot my Dad. He tricked me. But he don't see it that way. Sick people never do.

After both pieces are gone, my Dad takes me to bed. He sits on the tent floor and tucks me in with a few blankets and also Matilda, and then lays down next to me to read me to sleep. I close my eyes and try to forget about everything except the sound of his quiet, raspy voice.

Even after I drift off to sleep, I still hear him checking the gun all night.

The swing. It teeters in the warm night breeze.

I don't know why I'm out here. It's late. My Dad would never let me leave camp at this hour, especially not alone. Maybe I needed to pee. I can't remember, but this is what's happening, now, I guess, so I don't try to turn back. I'm walking to the swing. Again, I don't know why. There's this feeling of confusion deep in the pits of my furthest parts that I can't quite place, but I just keep on padding through the grass, toward the tree.

Fireflies follow after me, but there's something about them that's not right. I think they're too big, but I just can't be sure.

Maybe Carl's out here. He wants to play, or something. I round the thick trunk, expecting him to be standing there, but the body I run into isn't his. It's larger, taller, and not touching the ground. I step back, dwarfed by the sheer size of the person, until I the whole picture becomes clear.

It's Shane, hanging from the tree like a boneless dummy, his neck snapped the wrong way in a knotty coil of rope.

I can't scream. I can't. There's something caught in my throat; something big, like a peach pit.

Shane's eyes snap open as I stumble onto my back, as if he doesn't know he's supposed to be dead. He looks sad, but not panicked, not like I am, and he calmly tells me, an unbothered pout on his lips, "I didn't mean it, Harley. Your Daddy, he's wrong. I'm not crazy. I swear it."

In my head, I'm screaming, but I know nobody can hear me.

That's my Momma's voice.

That's what she said to me the last time I ever saw her, in the family-court parking lot while it rained.

"I love you, Harley." Shane — but also my Momma — says. "I love you so much it's gonna kill me."

Suddenly, my Dad's gun is in his hand — W-When did that happen? — And he checks it, click, before levelling it with his temple, and—

Bang.

The gun drops into the grass.

I wake up screaming.

My sleeping bag is so tight and hot around me that my first instinct is to kick and thrash it off, a cold sweat prickled all the way down by spine. I hear the tent unzipping, and then the white, blinding sunlight comes flooding in, and my Dad is moving the blankets off me and shushing me and holding my wet face in his big hands. Momma's words echo around my skull, and so does the image of Shane's pale mouth speaking them.

"Baby. Hey, look at me." Dad orders, his concerned face blurred by my tears. "It's okay. You're okay. Look at me, Harley."

I blubber miserably, "It was Sh— Sha— Sh—"

"No. C'mon, breathe." He takes a deep, calming breath, and I find myself copying him. "There you go... and out. Again."

We do this five more times until my heartbeat slows, and I adjust to the sounds of the small birds in the trees, and the quiet of the farm.

"It was just a bad dream." Dad reassures me, using the bottom of my shirt to dry off my cheeks. "You're fine."

"I was so scared." I tell him. "Thought it was real."

Last time I had a nightmare that bad was the night I got scratched. I'd forgotten how they make your skin feel like cold rubber, and your ears ring.

"Now you know it weren't. S'just yer brain makin' stuff up." He wipes the last of my tears away. "You wanna talk about it, or forget about it?"

Shuddering, I quickly mutter, "Forget."

"Okay, then. I got breakfast cookin' out there, anyway. Rick's here, too."

Rick walked all the way over here this early in the morning?

"What? Why?"

"He just wanted to talk." Dad says, helping me stand. He gestures to my backpack before ducking out the door. "Get dressed."

Shaking off the nightmare as best I can, I dress myself in a yellow long-sleeve shirt, a white tank-top, and dirty, scuffed blue jeans before pulling on my socks and boots, grabbing Matilda, and stepping outside into the cool breeze. First thing I spot is Rick, of course, 'cause he's in me and my Daddy's camp, sitting on the log we use to chop wood. Then I smell food sizzling over the fire, and I'm enticed forward by the yummy smell.

"Mornin', Harley." Rick greets, a pair of purple-ish bags under his eyes. He chooses not to mention my nightmare, 'cause he's nice like that.

"Mornin'." I parrot, somewhat cautiously. I still can't tell if he hates us or not. Sure seemed like he did, last night.

"Here, baby." Dad scrapes the browned meat and mushrooms into a mug for me and hands me a fork. "Caught it just before. Go sit down."

I do as he says, taking up my small, green camping chair. I bring my knees up in front of me and watch Rick accept a mug and fork of his own.

"Thanks." He nods. "Smells good."

Dad grunts in reply, standing and sitting back in his chair, not looking up from his fork. I think he's nervous.

I'm nervous, too. This feels like a meeting with the principle after you done somethin' wrong.

We spend a short while just sitting there together, eating quietly, until Rick sets his mug down in his lap and decides to speak up. "Shane's packing his things." He says, trying his best not to sound too dispirited. "He'll be gone within the hour. Me and T-Dog are drivin' him into town and leavin' him there. Whether he goes without a fuss, I don't know. I'm hopin' so. It's the least he can do, after... after everything."

"You gonna miss him?" I wonder, knowin' that no matter how much he shouted last night, that's still his brother he's losing today.

"I don't know." He attempts a smile, but it falls flat. "My old memories of him, maybe, but I'll always have those."

"I bet Carl and Lori are sad he's goin'."

"They'll get over it. We all will." Rick says. "Always do."

It's true. Whatever new horror gets thrown at us, we always get over it, 'cause we gotta. Can't live, otherwise.

My gaze wonders over to the barn again, sitting tiny and brown on the other side of the farm. I know now that there's more to it than just wood and paint. It's still so strange to think of all those people in there, just shuffling, and groaning, and waiting. They're dead, but somethin' about it all makes me feel sorry for 'em. At least when we run into walkers, we put 'em out their misery. These ones are made to suffer longer, and for what?

Over by the oak tree where Otis's empty grave lays, I can make out a couple of the Greenes dragging long, white bundles into deep holes. A funeral. For them ones that got killed last night, I reckon. An awful feeling nestles into my stomach. Some reason, feels like I'm a murderer.

Rick notices what I'm staring at. "I talked to them this morning. They don't blame you, Harley."

I got nothin' to say to that. It still don't make it right.

He sighs at my silence, sensing it's better to just address the elephant in the room. "Daryl, you know why I'm here."

I tense, 'cause I don't know why he's here. Could be he's decided to throw us out, too.

Dad finally meets his eyes.

"What Shane said last night was... unexpected, to say the least." He clears his throat. "I want you to know I don't take things like this lightly."

He nods, accepting the admonishment. "You're a father, too. I get that."

"And man to man, I need you to tell me something." His frown deepens as he says gravely, "You said you've changed. Is that true?"

People like you Dixons never change.

It takes everything in him to answer, but he manages. "I want like Hell to."

"How can I trust you on that?"

"Only good thing my ol' man ever taught me was to be a man of my word. Taught me everything that don't make a man. Taught me who I don't wanna be. I lost sight'a that for a while... I ain't proud of it, neither. But that's how it is." He looks at me when he mutters, "And I'm sorry."

Hearing those words from him feels like a bandage on a wound I ain't even know was there.

"Took gettin' shot by a maniac to realize it, but... For what all this bullshit's been worth, at least there's that."

Rick needles, "You know I could've thrown you out last night, don't you?"

Dad nods. He knows.

After considering all this, and seeming to more or less approve of it, Rick warns, "I better not hear of this happening again."

"You won't."

Something in Dad's tone must convince him, 'cause he eventually decides with a nod, "Alright, then."

Weird, how this whole journey just boils down to Rick sayin' those two simple words. Alright, then. The type of acceptance only families give out.

"Word of advice, though. You might wanna share all this with the others. Folk'll wanna hear it, Carol especially. For peace of mind."

That's a fair deal. "Yeah. I can do that."

"I'll let you sort that out in your own time, then." He says, setting his mug down as he stands from the stump. Dad follows suit, so I do, too, and in a strangely wholesome moment I wouldn't've even bothered picturing in my wildest dreams a year ago, he reaches out to shake his hand. Rick, the cop's, hand. He takes it firmly, and they do that thing again where they talk without speaking. Pulling back, Rick nods, "Thanks for breakfast."

"No problem." Dad grunts, wiping his palms on his muddy jeans. "Nigh time you tried some good squirrel."

"Yeah, well now I know where to go if I've ever got the hankerin'." He jokes easily. "You both enjoy your morning. I'll see ya later, once we get back."

"You don't need a second pair'a hands, do ya?"

"No. No, I reckon it's best you don't even breathe in Shane's direction today. He's... Well, there's gonna be an element of jealousy, there."

I guess, "'Cause we get to stay, and he don't?"

"Exactly." He smiles at me, before giving Dad a glance. "Among other things."

Dad just gives a look of grim understanding.

For how different they are, at least they got that one, weird thing in common. A man named Shane Walsh tried to steal their kid away from 'em.

With that, Rick gives Dad a smack on the shoulder, ruffles my hair a little more gently, and then turns back in the direction of the farm.

When he's a good distance away, Dad grabs his flannel off the back of his chair and throws it on.

"Come on." He nods me over. "I wanna show you somethin'."

Leaves crunching underfoot, Dad makes his way through the forest, crossbow slung over one shoulder, me slung over his back.

As he steps over a fallen log, he hums, "What about Hemlock?"

"Poisonous."

"Foxglove?"

Another easy one. "Poisonous."

"Buckthorn?"

Dang it, I always forget that one. They look so similar to blueberries that my mind always goes to, "Edible?"

He shakes his head, amused. "Yeah, right. Buckthorn'll make ya heart give out."

"Guess I got that one, wrong, then." I pout, annoyed at myself.

"Got all the others right, though."

We've been playing this game for about ten minutes, now, and he still ain't given me one clue as to where we're goin'.

"I got another one for ya." He suggests, hiking me up further when my knees dip past his waist. "Cherokee rose. What do they mean?"

I grip on tighter around his neck, humming. "Uh... Somethin' about Native American people, durin' the war?"

He encourages, "Yeah, you got it."

"They say when the missin' children's Mommas cried, the tears made 'em grow." I recall the tale he told me, once. "Meant good luck. Right?"

"Yeah, that's right." He praises me. "Made 'em feel less like the world was against 'em all the time. Gave 'em hope."

I smile to myself. "I like that story."

"Me, too."

"You wanna tell me where we're goin', now?"

"Don't gotta." I perk up as he comes to a stop, helping me slide onto the ground with a grunt. "This is it."

We're here?

A grin splits my face at the sight of it all. A big, shimmering lake, wreathed in grass, flowers, reeds; ducks gliding along the glassy surface, enjoying the sun. I follow him down the hill and onto the old wooden dock, where the tiniest teardrop shaped fish dart around underneath.

Crouching down at the end of the dock, I giggle as I spot a big knot of green frogs sleeping on the protruding rock in the middle of the water.

"It's so pretty." I exclaim, sitting back with a smile. Dad takes a seat next to me on the sun-warmed planks. "How'd you know this was here?"

"Passed it when I went hunting this morning."

"Kinda looks like the lake that was near our house." I muse happily to myself. "Even got the same smell. Pollen and dirt."

I don't quite catch it, but Dad smiles fondly at me. "Yeah, I thought you'd like it."

"Why'd we come here?"

"Sh. Just enjoy it."

The sounds of quacking; the gentle ripples bobbing out from around the line of ducks. It's enough to make me wanna stay here forever. I love the privilege of doin' nothin'. There's nobody out here except us and the earth. "Remember when Hunter pushed me in at Aunt Mandy's birthday?"

Dad and Uncle Kyle had to jump in and save me, 'cause I couldn't swim, but at least it was funny, after.

"Always was a little shit, weren't he, that boy." Dad scoffs, shaking his head. "Be thankful you're stayin' dry, this time. Least you can swim, now."

"Huh?" I giggle, confused. He don't seem to get what I mean, so I tell him, like it's obvious, "Daddy, I can't swim."

He gives me a baffled look. "Yeah, ya can. Merle told me he taught ya."

"Nuh-uh. He was meant to, while you was gone, but he never did. I think he ended up goin' to the bar, that day. After that, I guess he forgot."

Sometimes I feel like there's an invisible Merle Fuck Up list, and it keeps gettin' longer every day, even when he ain't even alive to add to it, no more. Like the time he told me to wait outside the liquor store and told me if I was a good girl, I'd get a sucker, but I wound up sittin' there on the curb until after nightfall, 'cause he forgot he left me there. The time he accidently fed me super spicy takeaway. The time he didn't feed me, at all.

Reminded of all those famous Merle Fuck Ups, my Dad rolls his eyes, officially fed up with his dead older brother. "Damned idiot."

"Makes ya feel any better, he made sure I could hold my breath good, at least. Held my head under the bathtub 'till I went purple."

He glances at me, distraught. "No, it don't make me feel better. Hell he do that for?"

I shrug. "In case Hunter ever pushed me in again."

"Trust me, that would'a been the least of his problems."

I drop my gaze, then, absentmindedly picking at the chipped wood. "He did lots of stuff like that while you was gone."

The years my Dad was in prison were the worst years of my life. I've always felt that way, but now I can pin-point why. It was Merle. I guess I was just lucky that by that time, Grandpappy Dixon had already left the state, otherwise I would'a gotten it twice as bad. When Dad was home, he could rip Merle's door off its hinges, break his phone, or his bong, or make him sleep outside on the patio, and he'd lay offa me for a little while. A whole day, if I was lucky. But I was on my own for those four years. Sure, our neighbour Patty would check up on me once every couple weeks, 'cause I think she always felt a little sorry for me, but for the most part, I was alone with a monster in my house. I realize that, now.

People like you Dixons never change. I know Merle didn't. Right up until the day he died, he was the eldest, toughest, meanest Dixon.

Things would be a lot different if he was still around. Worse, probably.

"Never gonna say I regret killin' that piece'a shit, Fletcher, but," He sighs, staring out onto the water. "I'on know. I should'a been there."

I used to wish every day that the police would change their minds and send my Daddy home. Of course, that never happened.

"It ain't your fault." I tell him.

"Nah, I could'a done better, chicken." He mumbles, before clearing his throat. "You know, I brought you out here to tell you somethin'."

"You did?"

"What I said this mornin', I meant it. I wanna change. I wanna be... I wanna be someone better than just a shitty Dixon. I wanna be a good Dad. I see Rick with Carl, and I just think about how the only person who ever taught me how to do this shit was your Uncle Merle, and before that, our Dad. Sometimes, I think I should'a just shot him, that night. I ask myself why the Hell I ever let my own brother lay his hands on my kid, and I... I just got nothin'." He takes a deep breath to steady himself. "Anyway, my point is that I'm tryin'. And I'm gonna... I'm gonna start with this."

I watch in anticipation as he shuffles, reaching back into his pocket, and settles back down again. In his hands, is his—?

"Your wallet?" I frown, at a loss for words. "Didn't it—?"

Didn't it burn up with everything else we left in he CDC?

"I kept it in the glovebox." He explains, flipping it open. There's the picture of me as a newborn, again, tucked behind the plastic sleeve. "I was gonna give it to you while we were on the road, but things got crazy after that, and I guess I put it on the back burner for a while."

"Why were you gonna give it to me?"

He gently caresses his thumb over my photo-self, before forcing himself to hold the wallet out to me. "S'yours, now. Look at the last photo."

I take it, a little sceptical, and lay it in my lap, gazing down at the first photo — Dad, holding me at the hospital right after I was born. I've seen this before. I look up at him. He gives me a nod, as if to say, go on, so I trust him, and I flip over to the next one. I've seen this one, too. Me, Dad, and some of his old friends, visiting the elephants at the Atlanta Zoo. They had really good ice cream there. I remember eating so much of the strawberry flavour that my chin was pink for days. Then the third one. School photo. Not as interesting as the rest, but still nice.

"Keep goin'." He tells me. "I never showed the last one to you. I wasn't ready. Still ain't, but... Just look."

"Dad, you're bein' weird." I laugh, feeling lost.

He encourages me, "Turn the damn page, girl."

"Okay, okay."

I do as he says, expecting another family photo.

My heart jumps up into my throat.

"Momma?"

It's really her. I bring the photo closer to my face, as if it's made of ash and'll blow away at any moment. There she is. My Momma. Tears fill my eyes all at once, and I gotta smack 'em away to see her properly. She's close to the camera, grinning up at the person holding it. A cigarette in her slim fingers, nail polish cracked and messy. She's sitting on a park swing, I think, bare shoulders lightly sunburnt. She's... She's happy.

"I took that the day she agreed to be my girlfriend." Dad says quietly, not looking at the photo, but at me. "Thought you might wanna have it."

I never knew a picture like this could exist of her. A picture this happy, this carefree.

'Cause I meant it when I said my Daddy killed my Momma.

It was a week after that day in the court parking lot, and a month after Momma's final meltdown. It was around the time my Dad stopped letting me see her as often as I used to. I'd begged him, please, please, please can we just see her for one hour, Daddy, please. We even stopped at a gas station on the way to buy her her favourite candy bar. Snickers, two dollars and ninety-nine cents. I'll always remember that. The man at the counter was so nice to us. I wore my best summer dress and sang songs on the car ride there. It was gonna be the best day, ever.

But when we got there, she was talking about the spiders again, the ones in her brain. She said she didn't know who I was, and that if Dad didn't get me out her house right then, she was gonna kill me for confusing her. I promised her I wasn't, not on purpose. It was me. Harley.

But as usual, she didn't listen, and as usual, Dad was right. We shouldn't've gone to visit.

I threw the candy bar in the bin when we got home.

After that, they went to court and something happened that meant I was never allowed to see her again. He wanted full custody, and he got it.

I love you, Harley, She cried to me outside the courthouse. That was one of the days she remembered me. I love you so much it's gonna kill me.

Meemaw said Momma was going away for a while, somewhere confused people go, but all she did was leap off a bridge at midnight a week later.

I had no Momma, after that.

Heart hammering in my chest, I look up at my Dad, then, hiccupping, "Why'd you keep this?"

As the sun catches the wetness in his eyes, he admits, "Because I loved her, baby."

"But you— you never wanted to see her." I frown. "You took me away from her."

"I know I did." He says. "I loved you more. I couldn't let you see her like that. It weren't good for you."

I hold the wallet close to my chest, spitting at him, "But at least, then she would'a still been alive."

"It's not as simple as that." He almost begs me to understand, "Your Momma was a beautiful woman, but she was sick, baby. Me an' your Meemaw did everything we could for her, but sometimes, there's people who just don't want your help. It was never gonna end well, Harley."

The sobs wrack my body harder at that, 'cause I wish it could've. I wish it could've ended well for us.

"And I'm sorry it didn't. I never told you that, but I should've."

I collapse into him, then, and he scoops me up into his arms as easily as he's always done, and we just sit there at the end of the dock, and we mourn together. It feels like letting out a flood I'd been holding in for years. Dad's never liked talking about Momma, not even when she was alive. I used to roll around on the living room floor, screaming on the top of my lungs, where's my Momma, where's Momma, and without saying a single word the whole time, he'd pick me up by my armpits, force-feed me dinner, bathe me, dress me, and shut me in my room for the night.

But sometimes, like that night at the CDC, I'd just get beat, instead.

Now, he's cradling me. He's shushing me, rocking me, crying with me, and that's enough for me to know that Dixons really can change.

"I miss her." I moan into his neck. "I miss her so much, all the time."

I miss her when I look at Lori, and I miss her when I go to sleep, and I miss her when all I want in the world is to hug my Momma one last time.

"I know you do, baby." What I would'a gave to hear him say that every day until forever. "I know. That's alright. I miss her, too."

I miss her so much it's chronic, but knowin' my Dad feels that way, too, makes the pain a little more bearable.

After what feels like the longest hug in the world, I'm finally ready to pull back. He takes in my raw, blotchy face, and uses the sleeve of his flannel to wipe away all my tears as I gaze out at the lake, trying to catch my breath. Once I feel like I ain't dyin' anymore, I turn to face him again.

"Thanks, Dad." I sniffle. "I'm gonna take real good care'a the wallet. Of Momma."

He smiles, for some reason looking like he's really proud of me in this moment. "I know ya will."

"I love you."

"I love you, too, my darlin' girl. So, so much."

Feeling just how sore my face is from crying, I grump, "I feel like my face is gonna fall off."

He chuckles at that. "You wanna wash off in the lake? Go for a lil' swim?"

"I can't." Did he forget what I said about not bein' able to swim? Or is he jokin'? "And we're wearing clothes!"

"Don't tell me you're scared, little chicken."

"Wh—?! No! I ain't scared!"

He starts making little chicken noises, which is even more annoying.

"Dad!" I'm gigglin', now. I give him a hard shove on the chest. "Stop!"

"Come on. I'll teach ya."

That's all he says before he scoots forward onto the edge of the dock, and much to my complete and total horror, jumps right in. Splash! The fish all scurry away under the ripples in all different directions, as he wades further out, ignoring me when I laugh uncontrollably to him that his clothes are all soaked, now. He don't care. The water's nice, apparently. He opens his arms out for me and says I should jump. I almost hesitate, but then I think to myself, Who cares if my clothes get wet, and soon enough, I'm doing my first ever cannonball into a lake in the middle of nowhere.

Even when it feels like every corner is made up of misery, there's always one little place in the world that's still filled with goodness.

On the bank of the lake is a bush of Cherokee roses. White, like angels.

Author's Note.

Guys, I write sooo slowly. I could sit at my laptop for an hour and have one paragraph to show for it. It's a curse.

Please enjoy this wholesome ( ? ) chapter. Daryl and Harley FINALLY talk about her Mom. I'm so happy that I got to write that scene. It's been a long time coming. He really wants to be the best he can for Harley, and that was the first step in doing that.

What do you think, has he changed? Or was Shane right?

In my opinion, I don't think he was ever the villain that Shane thinks he was. At heart, Daryl's always known that the way he's been treating Harley is wrong. He was doing what he's been taught to do, which is the simplest thing anyone CAN do, which is cover up everything with anger. I think this is him discovering who he's truly been the whole time. Of course, it's totally up to interpretation.

I hope you enjoyed reading! Again, sorry for the wait. Sending love :)

[hallothere]

37 for anyone you haven't written about but want to?

"Why? Why are you helping me?"

"You don't know?"

Ryna shrugged. "You're very kind. But you must have your own affairs."

Tirnengûr shrugged back at her. "Not that I can attend to from within the Mountain. Anyone I should talk to now is occupied. I only just arrived when the armies closed in." He looked around. "It's not as if I had time to make friends."

She adjusted Lorfyd, still sleeping in her arms. Over the little bundle, she glanced at her son, Harwine. Tirnengûr turned the toddler out towards her so she could see his slumbering face.

"They're like little Rangers." He said. "Catch sleep when they can. It's a valuable skill."

Ryna snorted quietly, as not to wake them. Of course, there was enough noise in the hall for that not to matter. But somehow her children slept on. Tirnengûr rocked little Harwine. The boy had calmed over the days of siege. Not at all the bawling bundle he'd been in Dale-town. Not at all.

"Do you visit Erebor much?" He asked, glancing for the hundredth time at the crystals lighting the dwelling hall. It was amazing how such a relatively small thing could produce so much light.

"Once or twice a year." Ryna answered. "They have festivals, and markets and such. Concerts, every once in a while. I visited more before Lorfyd was born." She gave him a wry smile. "But you know how far it is when you're carrying the pair of them."

Tirnengûr stifled a laugh. "I suspect you didn't make the trip on foot. And we're all lucky I didn't decide to stop in Esgaroth-of-old. They don't have such a fine inn."

Ryna opened her mouth to respond in kind when the very Mountain shook. The tremor raced across the floor, up the walls, and rattled the crystals Tirnengûr had so admired a moment ago. Without thinking, he pulled Ryna forward, putting her children close between them and her under an arm.

"Stay down." He sounded much calmer than he felt. A few people were screaming, others were trying to calm everyone down. His own lungs seemed to quail in anticipation of more smoke, more terror raining down from the outside. He wondered what sort of machine or beast was out there shaking the Mountain. What had the armies of Mordor and the East brought to wipe them out?

Ryna had both of her children back, her arms curled protectively around them. Tirnengûr did what he could to shield them in the event of falling rubble. It had happened before. As beautiful and ornate as the dwelling halls of Erebor were, they were not immune to the threat of a cave-in.

"I'm here." Tirnengûr said. He didn't have much else to say. "Stay down, and hold on. I'll tell you when it's over."

She would have to wait a long while yet.

[forensicated]

Smiffina Episodes - Episode 403

Smithy and Lewis are called to a break in where they find an assaulted male. As they move to check him over, they are ambushed and assaulted by the attackers. Lewis almost catches one of them but he receives a kick straight to the chest and falls down again. They return to the assaulted male to check him over and Smithy pulls a screwed up piece of paper from the mans mouth - it states that he is likely to be "Leo Cross" and that he's been accused of being a paedophile.

Zain is drafted in to work the case and Smithy explains the victim is an NHS worker who called the police 2 days previously as he was being harassed by two teens who were trying to get money out of him. Gina drops in as she's passing to see if everything is alright "Yeah, 2nd day back and it's already like I've never been away." He smiles. "... I meant have you got enough bodies?" Smithy smirks and explains that they've had some leads and then that he's going to check in on Morris later. Gina warns him not to hold his hand too long and has an unusual way of ending the conversation... 🤣

Later Smithy calls into the kebab shop where he got Morris a job - only Morris didn't turn up. As returns to Lewis to update him, Morris comes limping along the street. Smithy asks him what's wrong and Morris tells him that he fell - but Smithy doesn't believe him. He confesses there was a group of children on his estate that were smashing up a phone box. He intervened and then they started abusing and jostling him and then when they pushed him over they ran off. "And as usual there was never a copper around when you need one!" Smithy playfully rolls his eyes and hands him his old mobile phone, telling him to call his daughter who he hasn't spoken to since he went to prison. Morris refuses , telling him he doesn't know what he'd say to her and Smithy says if he doesn't ring her then he (Smithy) will and tells him the phone is a way that they can stay in touch themselves. Morris starts to tell him something but he stops before covering.

"I'll get a bad name standing out here talking to coppers."

Later, Lewis runs to find Smithy to tell him that there's been a call to CAD as "Morris is smashing up the kebab shop." "I don't believe this!" Smithy sighs, grabbing his stuff and heading out to the car with Lewis. When they get there the owner is upset and ranting in Greek, there's salad all over the floor and the shop is in a real mess but Morris has been able to slip out the back way and is long gone. Lewis tells him that the boss told him that Morris had a phone call with his daughter and... well, it didn't go well, and he locked himself in the toilet afterwards with a bottle of whiskey and he wants to press charges. "Course he does... how the hell am I going to talk him out of that?!" Smithy sighs.

Smithy and Lewis go to Morris' house, but he's nowhere to be seen. Lewis asks if he'd do something serious but Smithy assures him he's not worried about him harming someone... but then a call comes over the radio matching Morris' description and describing someone acting erratically under work-way on the Thames. Smithy tells Lewis to stay away and get back up but subtly so as not to spook Morris. He slowly approaches him, gently trying to find out what has happened to upset him so much.

Morris is in bits, telling him that his daughter has moved to New Zealand with her children 2 years ago. He didn't even know he was a grandad. He's had enough of being outside and says that he might as well have 'con' tattooed on his forehead and that he wants to go back inside prison.

Smithy sighs, telling him he's spent the last half hour talking to his boss getting him not to throw the book at him. "Please, Dale!" Morris begs. Smithy sighs and quietly adds. "I suppose I could get him to change his mind again." He reluctantly arrests him, adding "Are you happy now?" Morris is obviously made up. "Yeah!"

Gina tells him she's sorry about Morris and he just shakes his head, saying that in the nick Morris knew his place, everything was familiar and he felt safe. "And that's the important thing." he adds. "Knowing where you belong." As he walks off, Gina calls him back, winking affectionately at him and he grins at her before walking off.

[ash-the-porcupine]

Buster Moon Headcannons

-Is a hugger

-Picky eater

-Can actually sing but prefers for the others to do the singing and dancing. He would rather be to the side and let the others be the center of attention. 

-Uses Gunter and Nooshy for script inspiration

-Rosita helps him with script writing sometimes

-Buster plays piano with Johnny some days

-Buster is scared of spiders

-And bees

-And n33dl3$

-Porsha stays at the theater some nights, and she and Buster have a lot of fun.

-Buster used to have a girlfriend.

-Is allergic to pinepple (long story)

-Never met his mom

-Secretly is still very sad about the loss of his dad, but doesn't let anyone know or pick it up. 

-Thinks of Rosita as a motherly sister. 

-The piglets call him Uncle Buster

-Ash calls him Moon-man

-Nooshy calls him Moonie

-Porsha occasionally calls him daddy. 

-Gunter is like a brother to Buster. 

-Buster has done karaoke with Gunter

-Meena bakes him stuff a lot because all Buster knows how to make (without causing an explosion) is toast. He is invited to her house a lot.

-Buster had met Mr. Crystal when he was younger.

-He was extra afraid of Crystal because (in the wild) dogs are the main enemies of koalas.

-Buster hates getting wet as well as his precarious relationship with water. 

-It's not uncommon to see him falling headfirst down the stairs while tugging on his blue blazer. 

-It's VERY common to see him accidentally walking backwards off of the stage.

-He was bullied as a kid. (I can almost guarantee it)

-He would help his dad with the car wash as a kid.

-It wasn't uncommon for him to talk his dad's ears off about the latest shows.

-Buster was actually a nifty little theif as a kid when he needed to be, but he'd never tell you.

-He used to be in a rock band. 

-He tried to play baseball as a kid, but the mitts and baseball bat were way too big. Not to mention a ball speeding towards him would end with him getting really hurt... so yeah, he didn't get very far in his baseball career XD

-He still has nightmares of Crystal :(

-Him and Nooshy do things that are most likely mildly illegal.

-Nooshy and Ash taught him to be a hacker, even if he doesn't use the skill often apart from when he forgets his password... which happens a lot.

-Buster's original password was 'theater' but everyone guessed it on the first try and he had to change it. Now it is Yuri Dorfenboop. Foolproof. 

-Hehas a huge playlist, of many artists and genres. 

-Ash introduced him to her music (the Skunkdolls poster in her apartment in the first movie. Second movie, we ssee Buster has a Skunkdolls album.)

-He re-made his show War of Attrition when he managed to salvage the poster for it. That's why you see/hear about it in both movies even with the flood and fall of the original theater.

-He redid a ton of his shows.

-He sings when he's by himself

-He CAN play piano, but his mind wonders so much he switches songs and artist frequently without noticing every few minutes. By the end, he'll be freestyling. 

-Buster was once mistaken for a performer at Rick's Club when he ran onstage to help out Ash. He had a microphone shoved in his paws and had no choice but to sing. He sang Pheonix by League of Legends. The crowd went wild. Buster vowed to never perform in front of a crowd again, which he had to break when he was forced to play in a show for Angus Chrome. 

-He can also play the trumpet, and it's hilarious because it's way bigger than he is. 

-He falls off of the ladder a lot. 

-The crew caught him creating Daleonaise (mayonaise mixed with Dale's sauce) and tasting it.

-He has a fear of needles. 

-He can't pronounce Worceshire. Neither can I. We call it Woostashoosh. 

-He has memorized over one hundred actors. 

-He secretly kinda likes Rosita. (My comfort character. I like this. Sue me.)

-When he's nervous, his ears twitch as well as his nose and it's adorable.

-He makes weird faces when he's concentrating. 

-The color of blue of his eyes changes depending on the light. 

-He taps things absentmindedly with a claw when he's being bothered by something/someone.

-No one knows Buster's habits as well as Eddie Noodleman

-In college, Eddie would help out Buster with the bullies when he needed to (the bullies wouldn't hurt or mess with Eddie because his parents were rich and their lives would be over if they did) and in return Buster would help Eddie with school and play videogames with him.

-Buster was poor as a kid, too, so he didn't always have all the school books he needed so he would take notes by writing on his hands when necessary.

-He stills writes info on his hands when he needs to.

-Rosita acts like Buster's mom a lot.

-Clay still teases Buster about the water tap thing. 

-Buster met Mizuki because the gazelle wanted to figure out who showed up in her pictures of the couple in the first movie when Buster photobombed on his bike. 

-Buster dapples in photography and is a very good artist when it comes to drawing. 

-He's written a few songs but would never show anyone.

-He and Suki became friends after the second movie.

-Buster has destroyed four toasters in the span of a year.

-Whenever someone laughs at Buster for being so cheesy and optimistic over the craziest things, he jokingly tells them "I STAN OPTIMISM! And babies. I stan those too." everyone laughs really hard.

-He has a version of Jingle Bells of him and his little family doing arsonist-like activities.

-He doodles his family when he's bored.

-He doesn't know how to use a tablet. It took him forever just to learn how to operate his phone for calls and messages. 

-He loves peanut butter and bananas

-His favorite jelly flavor is grape

-His favorite soda is orange fanta

-His favorite snack is cheesy doritoes

-He also loves apples

-He will never turn down a tootsie rolls to save his life. 

-Loves chocolate.

-Climbs trees occasionally to read books.

-He says hello to the squids at Les Calmars whenever he passes by.

-His theater is on 551 Echo Drive.

-He refuses to get an apartment, that's why Nana had a bedroom built into his theater right above his office. 

-Stills uses his comfort drawer. (ITS SO FRIGGIN CUTE-!!!)

-Ash and Nooshy and Porsha fangirl over his adorable little ears and paws whenever he gets twitchy because it's adorable. 

-Porsha will do anything to get to pick up Buster and give him an extra big hug. Buster loves it too. He's a hugger. 

-He prefers his coffee black. 

-He's never had a butterfingers bar. Nooshy intends to right this wrong.

-He's never heard of Michael Jackson!! (yes he is a person in the Singverse. I headcannon he is a giraffe or kangaroo or something.)

-Buster would do literally anything for his family.

[seancamerons]

Janny + 15

Prompt number 15 for Jay and Manny is:

I get it! You’re jealous!”

“No, I’m not. I’m just… protective. And maybe a little needy.”

---

It was December and Jay and Manny are celebrating the holidays by getting themselves a Christmas tree from a small farm about an hour away.

So They drove a few hours out of their way on a Saturday from Christmas, late but when they arrived there were plentiful. She was on a sweeps slash holiday hiatus with work, she works a current sitcom where she plays a young twenty something even now at almost mid 30s, but she looks young not to mention she's expecting and only a few weeks along with Jay. They married a few months ago in an intimate gathering with friends and family, a lowkey but a formal celebration at a newrby vineyard not far from the film studio, in fact it was an abandoned set where the planners and Manny got to work. They're happy, and it was inexpensive.

As she turned the corner seeing a tree she like and turned to tell Jay she managed to see Mick, her former drama teacher at Smith Dale whom she dated. Jay had alot of choice words in regards to him and Manny didn't want him to start anything or for Mick himself to see her.

He was with his what she could assume is his wife. She ran into him in her large houndstooth peacock, and avoided eye contact feigning ignorance, “I should really learn to watch where I'm going. I'm looking for my husband.”

“Miss Manny Santos, my my this is a sight, you're positively glowing.”

Embarrassed and somehow charmed, “I'm almost six weeks pregnant.” She wanted an out she wasn't sure what Jay would do as he was precooked in an enclosure with other odds and ends. “I just wanted to say that, now you're jn front of me you didn't treat me the best. “

“I know, and I just Wanted to tell you, I'm truly sorry.”

She wasn’t moved, “You just have no idea how defective you made me feel at every turn, you made me hate myself for the entire time we were doing whatever it was we were doing.”

“It wasn’t my intention, all I wanted was for you to succeed, you might not believe it, I loved you.”

“Mick, I moved on.”

“I can see that. I'm telling the truth, i hope you can findthelove you once had for me.”

“You're doing it now. I almost believed you, why is it important you're late. I have to find Jay.”

“Jay? He's a lucky guy.”

“Right because he's nothing like you. He was different when I initally knew him, and i did fall for him unconventionally, but he just wants the best for me. I don’t have to change for him. I can be myself, you always tried to cage me, force me into some category of acting antiquated, you know I tried so hard, to work so hard to please you and it just was never enough, I spent more time finding things wrong with me, crying, struggling, you broke my heart and spirit and I lost myself trying to live up to your fucking unrealistic expectations. I was a young girl, you used my willingness and weaknesses to hinder me, I will never forget that nor will I let it happen again.”

“Didn't you want to succeed? I was your professor, I'm a professional! I wont let you shit on me, Manuella.”

“Well, it was a bit more than that, if I remember correctly.”

“Why are you unloading shit to make me feel things, I was hard on you, because you have potential. You've done good work since, maybe not on stage but on television and films. I like to think you took some of what I said to motivate you.”

“I guess. I guess theres something I took to keep. Look I got to find Jay, I've been dawdling too long.”

“Happy holidays, Manuella.”

Manny walked past and took to find Jay admiring a tree, “where were you?”

“Remember when I was I'm college? I ran into the professor that challenged my sanity for a time.”

His mood and demeanor shifted, he seemed angry or annoyed, he grumbled, “What did he have to say?” He asked flatly.

“He was sorry. He said he was too hard on me. He also made it seem like he just wanted me to succeed when it was more than that. “

“Damn right, it was more than that.”

“Jay. Cmon I don't know why you're getting bent out of shape.”

“Because of how he treated you, where is he?”

“No don't say anything, I handled it he's not going to bother you.”

“Look I get it, you're jealous, we had a past.”

“That ain't it. No I'm just productive, and a little needy.”

“Needy how?”

“I need to know you don't still care about that arrogant prick.”

“Look at me,” She put out herbhand ,”I'm wearing your ring and caring for carrying this baby inside me for you and I, and you're someone I want a future with.”

“You're right, that counts but he was a big part of like your past like I just, I don't knkw.” He showed a vulnerable side of him, “I don't like that he got to you the way he did. He hurt you, and I don't know what you saw in that curly haired pretentious fuck.”

“Quiet, he'll hear you and, I love you, just you. Mick like he who shall not be named because it's taken me many years to finally find my prince, and my peace far away from those guys. I'm so fortunate, I know it. Did I mention I love you?”

“Of course and you know I love you too, Manny no matter how coocoo bananas you drive me, I just know he loved you in his own fucked up way and charmed you once, am I really jealous or merely protecting ylu.”

“I'm a grown ass woman.” She replied beaming, “I can take care of myself, but I'd be miserable and sad without you, and Jayson Junior too to think about. “

“Whoa, wait. He's gonna be a boy?”

“Just like daddy. He's gonna be most likely the perfect Mashup of both of us.”

“A Heartbreaker naturally with your dimples and my wit, maybe your emotive eyes, maybe I can teach him how to be a mechanic. When he's grown he'll be just as heartfelt as you. I hope he doesn't have a troublesome nature like me, I don't want him to struggle like me, I want to be a gooddad, not someone who gets money thrown at them, but actually raised.”

“It's one of the many many reasons why I love you, what you just said, makes me feel like I found someone special. Until I saw Mick, I had forgotten all about him, just not the hurt part. It just reminds me of how I was, and who I'll never be again because I feel stronger. If not for you I'd still be following around that guy, viying for approval I'll never get because I'll never know. You love me for all of me, and he just wanted a piece of young talent, a piece of ass.”

“You do have a cute one,” she glared but he saved with, “i get what you mean.

“Okay, well then, good to know. “

“Thank you for not getting mad, too mad.”

“Mad about what?” He knew better to say what she might be mad at in regards to their conversatio he instinctively shrugged his shoulder feighned ignorance. “Whatever, babe. You're welcome.” She turned to the tree he had been admiring prior to the conversation. “This is a nice one. Let's get it, put it in the car and get out of here. My feet are swelling up.” She softly beamed enticing him to pick it up keep it moving as they walked together to ring it up.

There they were met with the farmer at a table, he saw Manny and beamed, “Looks like you're about ready to pop, girl or boy?”

“A baby boy. “ Manny looked up at Jay proudly, their height difference amplified.

“I'll say I just, you know what? The tree is yours free of charge. Merry Christmas, it's yours.”

“But sir,” She kindly replied jay was speechless, “it's a bigger one. The firs had at least $75 dollar tags!”

“Nonsense you guys are up to your eyeballs preparing for the stork, it's the least we can do. Merry Christmas.”

“Wow, thanks.” Jay shook his hand, for a kind gesture, and they took the tree to the car. “Merry Christmas to you too.”

[undiscovered-horizon]

Imagine Lin coming to you after escaping from prison.

To be honest, you've fantasized about this moment countless times - the day he stands in front of you again, as a free man. But that day was supposed to come in years' time.

And yet, somehow he's here, staring at you in a strangely melancholic and apologetic way like he can't quite enjoy this reunion. His face looks strangely older as though the time spent in prison washed out a part of his youthful liveliness.

You open your mouth, eager to say something but no words roll off your tongue. There's so much you want to tell him, so much fear and longing that's now relieved, you can't quite decide where to start.

"I had to see you," he speaks first. "Before I go away."

The pale moonlight, crawling into the room through the window, lights up no more than half of his face. You can't help but feel that, in some way, you're seeing him for the very first time; he's both ethereal and alien.

Little do you know, Dale is thinking something similar. He's already noticed the barely visible ways in which you had changed: your skin is greyer than he remembered, eyes a lot less bright and hair strangely dishevelled. If he didn't know better, he'd simply think you need to get a few hours of sleep. But, to his own heartache, he does know better.

Wasting no time, you throw your hands around him, tightening the embrace to the point it hurts your arms but you don't care about the discomfort. It seems that neither does he as Dale holds you close to him with the same strength filled with longing, regret and unspoken confessions. He takes in a ragged breath smelling your scent - something he'd never suspect he could miss so severely.

It's silent. A few minutes pass by when neither of you dares to break the silence and address the obvious because the moment you do, you'll have to choose what to do about it and both of you know that the best choice is not the nice one. For a moment, you can naively pretend everything's alright.

But Dale's nature is more pragmatic than yours. "I have to leave, baby," he reluctantly whispers against your hair. Despite not wanting to leave you again, he's well aware of what happens if he doesn't - and that thought terrifies him to no end.

You slightly pull back to look at his face. His denim jacket is stained with a wet patch left by your tears. "Now?"

He clenches his jaw hearing how weak your voice is. "Yeah, before the cops show up."

Tears sting your eyes again. "Can't you stay just a moment longer?" You stifle a sob before continuing. "After all this time, I've had you for like five minutes, you can't..." Tightened throat doesn't let you speak. "I can't just-"

Dale's quiet, soothing 'shh' interrupts your growing hysteria. One of his hands strokes your back in a movement so gentle he might not even be aware he's doing it.

His warm lips quiver ever so slightly against your forehead. "I'll wait until you fall asleep, alright?"

As much as you've grown to love his reliability, tonight there's nothing you hate more.

A middle-aged man with long hair and a sense of humour and I'm supposed to be studying the history of psychology? A scam, I'm telling you, A SCAM

[myhusbandsasemni]

Hey! I just finished To Cut Away the Mountains I've made and Fill the Dale Below on ao3 and found your Tumblr! Thank you for writing it was for much fun to read. Your descriptions are very comforting and the entire fic felt very warm.

Are there any world facts that you had in your head but never got to share?

When I tell you that this ask had me freaking out, I mean I was screeching. It means so much to me that you went to the effort of finding my Tumblr and sending me an ask! I'm so glad you liked the story!

As for facts, boi do I have a few. I filled that story up with so much lore just for the fun of it.

Obviously, it was very different from the actual Dream SMP. In this world, the goddess of Death gave Wilbur to Philza as more of a gift than a shared child, I guess you could say. When Wilbur got old enough, he took off to explore the world. That devastated Philza a little, which I think was very clear in the fic, but he let Wilbur have his freedom.

Philza did end up finding a new friend in Techno. Techno was a powerful warlord for a while, angry because his sounder was destroyed. When Philza got him out of that nether fortress where he had been trapped as a gladiator, Techno felt like he owed the Angel a life debt and then that eventually turned into just genuine friendship. Techno is very protective of the old man.

Wilbur ended up becoming the ruler of a country, and everything was fine for a while. Since he was a gift from Death, he didn't really get old and he didn't really die.

But we can't have anything nice. Dream came into the picture as a talented sorcerer who craved power. He inserted himself as a second in command to Wilbur, twisting Wilbur's mind and his rule. Dream was a sadistic dude and Wilbur started to fall to Dream's whims.

As a side note, Dream made the disks of power. Everyone that looked upon them wanted them. Dream thought it was funny watching people destroy each other over some scratched up disks. The power of the disks faded over years, which is why Quackity could keep them safely.

Philza heard about a terrible ruler who was planning on sacrificing thousands of his own people to a power hungry sorcerer and went to go deal with it. Techno entered a duel with Dream while Philza went to find this ruler. Imagine his surprise when he find's Wilbur with his finger on the 'button' that would set off the terrible ritual. There was no reasoning with him, and in this timeline, Philza didn't wait until Wilbur pressed the button. He killed his son because there was no other option.

They didn't capture Dream. They sent hunters to capture him. One of the hunters, George, ended up bonding with Dream and helped him escape over and over again. Dream was sweet with George. He presented himself as a silly little vagabond. Just a little guy. A robin hood type.

George eventually saw the real Dream, though. Dream slipped up and George had to come to terms that he had been tricked and lied to. George helped get Dream captured, where he was put in jail under Quackity and Sam. George felt horrible about this, and he ended up having to live with Philza for a few years while he grieved a friendship that was never real and dealt with the lingering betrayal he had dealt to Dream.

Dream died. He died a sad and broken man, having been tortured every day for 50 years until he finally decided that permanent death would be better than waiting for the chance to escape. He is gone for good. Death made sure of it.

Speaking of Sam, he was so afraid of death that he started searching for ways to escape it, going to various demons and gods to get blessings by going through trials. He was thrice cursed because, after some time, the different blessing and rituals and whatnot reacted badly with each other, like water causing metal to rust.

Quackity twisted the secrets of necromancy from out of Dream, and consequences don't matter to him anymore. As time goes by, he will become more and more unstable. But that's a story for another time.

Wilbur, when he died, became a wraith. Death tried to find him, but because he came from her, he knew how to hide. He drifted the world with the lamb Death had sent to be with him, because while he shunned her, she knew Philza wouldn't want him to be alone. Dream revived Wilbur as a last desperate try for freedom, hoping the man would come rescue him near the end of his life, but Wilbur did not. He just kept running.

Wilbur has white in his hair and feathers from his time being dead.

Wilbur eventually settled down and started working on projects to feel like he's actually doing something with his life. He built his manor and estates, he broke up crime rings, and eventually he took in three children, one of whom reminded him so much of his father that he couldn't leave the child to go into the system. At that point, he started missing Philza for the first time since he left the nest.

That's pretty much it, I suppose. This story was so fun and I'm glad you enjoyed it! I remember I wrote it so fast my finger joints hurt for days.

Thank you so so much for the ask. I love you so much for it!

[reedviolets]

And so Rajmael in the heathen temple recanted. "Speak only the Word; sing only the Chant. Then the Golden City is thine," spoke Andraste.

This little bit of the chant fascinates me with its implications. The Dragon Age games have well established that the Chant is fundamentaly imperialist, but this line implies so much more. Followers of Andraste will only receive their heaven, their perfect world, their Golden City and the end of blights, when there is only the Chant. The Chantry sees itself as having a moral imperative to conquer nations, to spread the Chant, to force all heathans to sing only the Chant. To eradicate all other religions so that their Maker returns to them.

The Jaws of Hakkon has one enduring theme. History will forget you. This theme is a lie.

Inquisitor Ameridan worshiped both the elven gods and the Chant. Upon learning this, Solas and Sera both complement him? For being open minded? While Cole notes that even his close friend and Chantry leader Drakon was uncomfortable with and did not support his dual worship. Cassandra asks a Dalish Inquisitor soon after they first meet if they have any room in their pantheon for the Maker. The existence of a dual worshipping Chantry varient like that would result in a huge loss of power for the Divine and Orlais. Such a thing could not be allowed to continue. It is not the Dalish who forbid worship of other gods.

When exploring Ameridan's memories he talks about killing the dragon quickly so he can return to Halamshiral and convince his people to stand by Orlai and fight the blight. He worries that if they do not, they will lose everything. He comments that many in the Dales see Orlais as a second Tevinter, an empire that would take their land and see them as slaves. Every. Single. Companion. Will comment on this and blame the fall of the Dales on the Elves. The Dalish didn't join the fight against the Second Blight, they didn't trust Orlais enough to fight along side them. And because they didn't trust Orlais, Orlais turned on them and destroyed them. Nonsensical.

Multiple codex entries in the game tell a much different story. Orlais and the Chantry are all but one and the same. Both are empires. Both are hungry. Orlais has wanted, continues to want Fereldan, and the Dales? Exactly inbetween the would be conquerors and the would be conquered. Add to that the fact that the Dalish did not follow the Chant. The Chantry realized quickly the Dalish would have to go, their religion, their existence could not be allowed. And so an Exalted March was called to destroy the heathens keeping Orlais from conquering to their hearts content.

Every fact of Ameridan's life, down to his race, was destroyed by a religion and nation that wanted to move past inconvenient truths. A mage who worshipped gods that weren't the Maker could never be allowed to be a figure head for an Andrastian organization. The only truth about his life that made it to the modern era, his mage lover, was considered by the chantry to be a lie to discredit him.

Ameridan wasn't forgotten. He was deliberately erased. The Chantry benifited greatly from his erasure. And I think it's a shame the game never allows you to confront that fact.

Ameridan will ask a human inquisitor if Drakon has brought the Chant to the whole world yet. He truly believed. In both the Chant and in the Dalish. He thought he could be a living bridge between their people. He believed they could co exist, that Drakon's imperialism would be kind to his people. He was betrayed in every way possible and the Chantry burned his bridge to ash.

[aeonianarchives]

Monsters

Fotfictober prompt: 8 - Monsters

Summary: Smaug telling his adoptive child he is the monster the people in lake town refer to and the child denies he is a monster

Pairing(s): Non

Characters: Reader, Smaug

"Nothing will harm you here little one" The dragon said setting you down you slid off of him and stumbled before falling face first into the wealth of Erebor, the dragon carefully put you upright, he had found you abandoned on the outskirts of the greenwood seeing no one taking you in he decided to do it, you were a young elfling from Lothlórein or that's what it looked like, it could be possible your parents had been ambushed on the way to the greenwood and the orcs dragged their bodies away, the dragon didn't know, he also didn't know why he took you in or saw pity on you.

You had grown a lot since when the dragon took you in "What is it Little one" Smaug questioned as he approached you, you had gone to laketown today with some of the gold to get some food and to play with your friends which you had there.

"I over heard women speaking of the monster in the mountain, is their a monster here" you questioned the dragon, not putting two and two together and realizing Smaug was the monster.

"They mean me Little one" Smaug said

"What, but you are not a monster, your my Ada" You responded

"I am at least to them, I destroyed dale, I took this mountain, ever wonder why you sometimes come across those weird dwarf statues, they were once people" Smaug said you looked at him in shock

"Why, why did you do that to them" You questioned

"At the time I was brainwashed by a bad man, I wasn't in control" Smaug said

"So the bad man is the monster then, and your not" you said with a smile Smaug chuckled and began walking away

"I wish that is how people know it, you are to innocent for this world, you said you wanted to learn how to defend yourself, well I found the dwarven armoury, and they have swords, You'll have to sharpen one but the dwarves are short you would only need to know how to forge one when you are fully grown little elfling" Smaug said you plodded along behind him

"I will be the most feared elf this side of the mountain" you cheered

"you already are the most feared you reside with me in the mountain, anyone who harms you will be cursed with the wrath of the greatest calamity of this age" Smaug roared out the last part

"You may be the greatest calamity of this age but you are certainly the smallest fire drake or that's what the mirkwood elves say when they visit lake town, what should I say to them, they are curious I am in Laketown and so young, they question if my parents even care for me, you care a lot about you don't you if you are willing to reveal yourself to curse them" you said

"Elves of that forest are tricky as long as you do not run into that pointy eared tree shagging princess they call a king just run away and stay out of sight, oh and once you know how to use a sword keep it hidden when you are in lake town" Smaug said

"I have pointy ears" you said placing your hands on the tips of the points of your ears

"You are not as bad as them, I do more than tolerate you" Smaug said with a huff

"You are loud" You said

"And you are quite, given that I raised you, you are to quite, easily forgettable to people and easily able to sneak up on people, very good" Smaug said

"Some needs to you are like a heard of Oliphants" you said

"How rude" Smaug said

"Your the one whose supposed to be the monster here only right" you said

Elvish Translation:

Ada - Father