#desperately need kit and daryl to be in something together

[barrowsteeth]

Kit Connor, Sophia Brown, Daryl McCormack, and Honor Swinton Bryne for British Vogue and Cartier (Venice Film Festival)

[imagineanythings]

Whiskey Warmth Chapter 1 (Daryl Dixon x Reader)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Chapter 1/2

Before long, he could barely hear the gentle, even wisps of her breathing over the truck’s engine and there was that burning feeling again, whiskey in his throat. It went down smooth and pooled in a ball of warmth in his stomach. He didn’t hate it. Daryl has always been quiet, stoic, and a realist. On the road he meets someone with a completely different outlook on life. She's a rare ray of sunshine a world that loves to block out all light, but can she keep that light alive?

Follows the plot of the show from post CDC up until Alexandria

Warnings: Canon-typical violence

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She was all sunshine and light. Daryl had never really met anyone he’d consider an unrelenting optimist until she came along, covered in walker guts with a smile on her face that could make the world stop. They had picked her up on the road, as they drove aimlessly trying to decide what to do after the CDC. Daryl had been the one to spot her. She was walking along the side of the road, covered in remnants of the dead, looking like she hadn’t slept or had a bite to eat in days. But as soon as their little caravan showed signs of slowing, she broke out into a broad, toothy smile and suddenly Daryl was sucking wind like he had been struck in the gut. She stepped up to the window of his truck and stuck her thumb out like a hitchhiker and before falling into a small cascade of laughter at her own gesture.

“Sorry, that was really lame.” She said, still giggling. Her voice and laugh rolled like gravel, it had clearly been a while since she had spoken, but there was a brightness to her lilting tone that had Daryl leaning in to hear more, as if a few more words from her might just set the world right again. “Where’re ya headed?” Daryl finally managed to ask, once he had collected himself. “Anywhere” she said, no hesitation in her voice. She was peering into the cab of the truck, looking around, getting a read on the situation. She seemed satisfied. “I got room,” Daryl offered and there was that smile again. He ducked his head and focused on his hands in his lap. No gaze like that, no smile like that could ever really be meant for him. He squirmed uncomfortably under that kind of focus. She quickly slid into the cab of the truck and placed her pack down at her feet. With a contented sigh she settled in and he chanced a glance at her again but found her eyes still on him. Her smile had dimmed but the corners of her mouth were still distinctly upturned as she watched him eyes still alight. She wasn’t just glancing at him either, the way most people did before they move on to whatever’s really important. She was actually seeing him, observing, like she actually wanted to know more about him. He could practically feel her eyes combing over every inch of him, searching for all the answers he wasn’t willing to give up out loud. He cleared his throat and turned his attention to the road as quickly as he could, getting the truck moving again.

“Thank you,” She said quietly. It was genuine and possibly even a little desperate. He didn’t want to think about how long she had been alone out there, what had led to her being out there like that, all alone. “-‘S nothing” He said, shaking his head a bit, still refusing to meet her gaze. He could almost feel the heat of that smile singe the hair off of the back of his neck. “Y/N L/N” She said, and held her hand out to him. His eyes slid over to her quickly as he shook her hand before focusing again on the road. He tried not to notice the way the contact seemed to burn the same way her smile did. “Daryl Dixon.” He responded and he swore he didn’t even have to look, he could just feel that goddamn lazer beam of a smile lighting up the cab again. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her nod to herself a bit, satisfied with the interaction, before leaning back in her seat and pulling the baseball cap she had on down over her eyes. “Thanks again, Dixon,” She said with a soft exhale before settling in comfortably. Before long, he could barely hear gentle, even wisps of her breathing over the truck’s engine and there was that burning feeling again, whiskey in his throat. It went down smooth and pooled in a ball of warmth in his stomach. He didn’t hate it.

The group took to her instantly. She was always there with a smile and a solution, a bright side, another option when things looked grim. She was also a bit of a jack of all trades it seemed. She knew her way around a knife, could tell you what every single plant in the forest was and whether you could eat it or not, had a little sewing kit that she used to make small repairs to everyone’s clothes, could start a fire with just about nothing, the list went on and on. While she wouldn’t give up what she did before the end, she did reveal that she was a girl scout as a kid and had picked up a lot from that. She was great with Carl and Sophia and seemed to be the positive energy that was sorely needed to balance out their perpetually moody and brooding group. It wasn’t like the group was entirely falling apart before, but as soon as she showed up it felt like everyone was much closer, like there was just maybe something other than unfortunate shared circumstances keeping everyone together.

Then Sophia went missing, and Carl was shot, and suddenly everything was falling apart again. At least the farm felt like a safe place to exist for the moment while everything else went to shit. And then Daryl had to go and be an idiot and fall on his own damn arrow and that idiot Andrea fucking shot him, and his sorry ass was stuck in bed instead of out there looking for Sophia.

He woke up in a bed in the farmhouse to someone’s gentle touch on his face. She came into focus slowly with the rest of the world, a bit blurry and so soft around the edges. It was all her. All he could feel were her fingertips brushing against his skin, her breath the sole sound in his ear, that soft sort of floral scent that followed her around seemed to swaddle him. When his eyes finally came into focus, there was only her frame hovering over him, changing the bandages on his head wound. As she saw his eyes open her face lit up and he winced.

“Oh god I’m so sorry! I’m just making sure your dressings are clean, I didn’t mean to hurt you!” She said quickly, her bright smile replaced with a deep look of concern and Daryl felt something like shame twist up in his stomach. The smooth burn in his throat from her touch and her gaze had already slid downwards and turned into a knot. “Yain’t hurtin’ me woman,” He said, wincing again involuntarily at how harsh the words had come out. He felt her touch lighten despite his words. She sighed and continued to work in silence. The air felt empty without her usual positive chatter, her gentle but firm affirmations, or her kind reassurance. Daryl was never one for conversation but he’d be lying if he said he’d have objected to the sound of her voice at that moment. Instead, when she was done, she simply placed a gentle hand on his arm, planted a quick kiss on his cheek, and whispered a quiet “you get some rest now, Dixon” far too close to his ear before flashing him another heart-stopping smile and leaving him to wonder if he had maybe just up and died when Andrea shot him. She had been in and out constantly, bringing him food, changing his bandages, just checking up on him in general. She would sit in the room with him for long chunks of time, sometimes talking, sometimes just sitting in silence next to his bed while she patched up peoples’ clothes.

He had just woken up after a hazy, fitful sleep to find her sitting by his bed once again, eyes focused on her sewing. She was humming gently. It was quiet, but he could hear that familiar sweetness in the tune, the brightness that always radiated through a room in her crystal clear laugh, now present in her low and soft humming. If he had focused a bit harder, he was fairly certain he would have been able to make out the song she was humming. It was something he knew from before, but she stopped before he could manage to recall what it was.

“You’re awake!” She said excitedly, “I hope I didn’t wake you, I swear I didn’t even realize I was doing it,” she looked genuinely nervous and apologetic as the words seemed to just spill out of her mouth. Daryl had never been one for speaking up, but the reassurance was slipping from his lips before he had any chance to stop it.

“Naw, weren’t sleepin’ much anyway...” He paused for a moment and was surprised to find that he didn’t want to settle into silence like he usually did. Instead he kept going, “... ‘s nice tho... yer voice” She blushed at that, and if he had thought her smiles packed heat, he was worried he might downright melt from the feeling of making her blush like that.

“It’s nothing,” She spoke so quietly he almost didn’t hear her. She stayed quiet for a moment before shaking her head a bit and focusing back on Daryl. “How are you feeling?” She asked like she genuinely wanted to hear the answer. And not just as a nurse either, not for her medical opinion but because she really cared about how he was feeling. He wanted to pull his head under the covers like a little kid and hide from that kind of attention. But her eyes were wide on him and he couldn’t bear to let her down.

“-’M alright,” He said with a sigh, “wish ya’d just let me outta this bed,” he was being childish and he knew it, but he was too cooped up (and now even more skittish under her gaze) to care. She simply quirked an eyebrow at him and let out a stifled but still achingly melodious giggle.

“You are a handful, you know that Dixon?” She said with a shake of her head. Her sewing had been abandoned on her lap and she reached over to check the dressing on his head. He cleared his throat as she gingerly pulled the bandages off and looked at his wound.

“What were ya singin’?...when I woke up... sounded familiar,” he asked, anything to distract from her caring and gentle touch burning holes in his skin, or her face so close to his as she carefully looked at his wound.

“Oh” she paused for a moment, thinking. She had been in the middle of wrapping his head back up and she had frozen with her hands resting on either side of his face. He didn’t know how he had somehow managed to make this situation even more painful, but he was stuck practically holding his breath, eyes fixed on a little silver pendant swinging back and forth from a chain on her neck so he didn’t have to make eye contact. Finally, after a small infinity, she blessedly began to move again.

“It was Iris, by the Goo Goo Dolls,” She said with a fond smile. “One of my favorite songs back in college,” He nodded to himself as the song came back to him, but he didn’t say anything else. She was still so close to his face, like she was trying to see past whatever walls he had built up. Before he could pull away or try to squirm under her gaze she was already leaning back, picking up her sewing again. He didn’t know what she had managed to see, but he was sure it hadn’t been something good.

“Wound looks pretty clean if you ask me. Other one was looking good earlier too, shouldn’t be long now before you’ll be back on your feet.” She said with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. He grunted something affirmative and appreciative and she couldn’t stifle the laugh that slipped past her lips.

“What’re ya laughing at, woman?” He tried to be at least a bit intimidating, but she just looked at him with that real, genuine smile that he never quite could fathom being directed at him and a fondness in her eyes that was missing mere moments ago.

“I know you don’t like talking much, and that’s ok. I can do plenty of talking for the two of us. One of these days though Dixon, mark my words, I’ll get some full and complete sentences outta you,” Her tone was slightly mischievous, like she was taking on a great ambition, and hell, maybe she was. Especially after that proclamation, Daryl was determined not to make it easy for her. The slight smile he felt himself showing surprised even himself. He gave another purposeful, but this time definitely skeptical grunt and there was that laugh again. He was glad he couldn’t see himself because he was fairly certain that he was beet red from head to toe.

“Well now you’re in for it Dixon, I’ve decided to make it my personal mission. One of these days you’re gonna look around you won’t know how or when it happened, but all of a sudden you’ll realize that I’ve become your best friend.” He was slightly shocked at this proclamation, but tried his best to keep his expression steady and unconcerned.

“Ain’t really worthy of that title,” he said, he couldn’t stop from dropping his eyes down to his hands. “And that is exactly why you need a best friend like me,” She said. He didn’t have to look up to see her smile.

The farm fell. Shit hit the fan, which was something Daryl was well accustomed to even before the world ended. They made it out alive. They survived on the road for months. Everyone wasted away but they made it through. They had cleared out a prison. Things were finally looking up.

Daryl sat in one of the guard towers on watch. He would probably sleep up there too. He couldn’t get used to sleeping in a cell, even if the doors were taken off, made him feel trapped, like a caged animal. He was scanning the tree line when he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Y/N poked her head in with a smile and he nodded to her as a hello.

“Hey Dixon, Rick told me you came right up here after your run?” She said cautiously. He nodded accompanied by a vague grunt. “He also told me that you had a nasty looking gash on your arm that you refused to let anyone check on?” She asked and he sighed, holding his arm out for her to see. “Got caught on some glass gettin’ out through a broken window. Was careless and stupid,” He said nonchalantly. She sighed and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. He tried not to flinch at the unexpected contact but he could tell by her shaky exhale that she noticed. She gave him a gentle nudge downwards and he got what she was asking. He sat down beside her on the edge of the platform, legs dangling below them. She took his forearm in her hands and examined the gash, which began a little below his elbow and extended an inch or two down his arm. It wasn’t too long, but it ran deep.

“It’s not too bad. You’ll only need a few stitches,” She said, turning away. He was about to grumble something about not bothering the old man when she turned back to him, first aid supplies in hand. “Ya don’t-” He started, but she raised a hand and cut him off. “I got you, Dixon, let me get you fixed up” She sounded stern, yet somehow still gentle and he had to force himself to shut his mouth which had, against his own wishes, just sat there, hanging open at her statement. “This is gonna sting a bit, I’m sorry,” She said, dabbing some antiseptic on the gash. She began stichting and he hissed through his teeth. She seemed to wince at his expression of pain and he immediately felt bad for worrying her. Getting the actual damn gash had hurt far more than this. She was quick and gentle and it was over within a few minutes. She let out a shaky breath when she snipped the thread and he looked down at her hands which definitely had not been shaking that much when she put the sutures in him.

“Ya did good,” he said quietly, wanting to reassure but not quite sure how. She looked up at him with a soft smile. “Sorry, I hope they didn’t hurt too bad. Haven’t done them much on real people, I got nervous.” She admitted. He shook his head. “Weren’t nothin’” He reassured and she let out another long breath. “Good.” She said, and he had a feeling that was more for herself than for him.

They sat in silence for a while, legs hanging over the edge of the platform, staring off at the treeline. The quiet felt more safe and comfortable than anything Daryl had experienced in a long time. Out of the corner of his eye he could see her turn to look over at him, so he kept his eyes focused on the treeline, afraid of what awaited in her gaze. She sighed and very slowly leaned down to rest her head on his shoulder. His entire body went stiff for a moment, almost entirely reflexively, before he could manually force himself to relax a bit. He took a deep breath and tried to let some of the tension leave his body, but it was hard when the weight of her head was right there on his shoulder and he could feel her hair brush up against his neck. He thought he was going to go crazy trying to fixate on all of it when she finally spoke.

“Daryl...” She started. She sighed quietly and he could almost hear her brain whirring, searching for what exactly she wanted to say. He could tell by her second, slightly more defeated sigh that she hadn’t quite found it. “Do you think this could really be home?” She finally asked. He let out a sigh of his own, grateful for something to focus on besides the contact but unsure of how to answer.

“Don’t know,” He said after a brief moment of contemplation. “Neither do I,” she said the words so quietly he wasn’t sure if he’d heard them correctly. He didn’t really know how to respond. She was usually the one who was so sure. She was always there with a smile and reassurance that this was the moment where everything would go right, that it would all be ok in the end. He didn’t realize that he didn’t really know how to have that kind of hope if she wasn’t the voice in his ear reassuring him.

They sat in silence for a few more moments before she sat up. He looked over at her sudden movement and she had a scrunched up, determined look on her face. Her eyes were dead set on the horizon. “It will be. It will be because you’re here and Rick’s here and we’re going to make it home.” She seemed to be reassuring herself much more than Daryl, but he didn’t mind hearing it. She looked over at him when she was done speaking and flashed him an appreciative smile. When he turned back towards the horizon and away from her gaze she leaned over and planted a kiss on his cheek. As she stood up to head back down she called over her shoulder, “See ya later best friend! Take it easy on those stitches! And get some sleep! I’ll send someone to take over for you in a couple of hours!” She turned and headed down the stairs when she was done and Daryl let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding in since she had taken his injured arm so gently in her hands.

She got into a habit of checking in on Daryl whenever he was on watch. She would sit with him and talk to him about whatever was on her mind, or whatever was happening with the rest of the group. He would talk too occasionally. He mostly gave quick responses to whatever she was saying but every now and then she reached in with nimble fingers and pulled something more real out of him, either a story about Merle, or some thoughts on the rest of the group, even a promise to give her a proper lesson in tracking and using a crossbow. She had been fascinated with his bow since the first time she’d seen him shoulder it and was constantly harassing him for lessons. He figured now that they were in the walls not on the run, worrying about staying alive from one moment to the next and they actually had the time and energy it couldn’t hurt to see what she could do. Before he knew it, that little offhand promise had transformed into a routine, they’d work with the bow or go out and track and hunt in the early morning and she’d always come up to see him in the guard tower as the sun began to fall over the horizon. Sometimes she’d bring dinner for him, or her sewing, or just herself. If he was being completely honest, he didn’t mind any of those options.

“Daryl Dixon, I swear to god, you better start being more careful out there,” her words were chiding but there was no harshness in her tone. If that weren’t enough, her exasperated smile definitely gave her away. “Told ya, I always do my best. Shit happens tho” He said, trying to swat her hand away as she tried to move his hair out of the way to get a look at the gash on his forehead.

“Hey!” her laughter filled the air as she grabbed his wrist to keep him from swatting. “You know that I’m not leaving until I make sure you’re all good, so you might as well make it easy on yourself and let me do my thing. Don’t make me get Rick up here to hold you down.” She had put on a scowl, and he could tell she was trying to be menacing, but it was an ill-fitting mask on her. As soon as he held his hands up in surrender it was thrown away in favor of her usual smile. She moved in closer to him, moving up on to her knees to get a better look. As she gently began to clean and inspect the wound he found himself face to face again with that pendant he had noticed at the farm, and while on the run, and if he was being completely honest most days in the prison. He had always wondered what it was, but had never seen it up close since that first time in bed at the farm. It was a symbol made up of two hands holding a heart with a crown on top. The silver pendant seemed as much part of her body as her eyes, or her hands. He never saw her without it.

“Seems like it wasn’t too deep, you don’t need stitches but I do want to put a butterfly bandage on there just to be safe.” She spoke while she looked through the first aid kit, and lapsed back into silence as she found what she needed and went back to work. Before he could really think about what he was doing, Daryl reached out and gingerly took her pendant between his fingers. Her eyes snapped downwards, confusion written across her features.

“Sorry,” Daryl said, letting go quickly, mentally kicking himself for grabbing it in the first place. “-’s just a nice necklace,” he said, eyes dropping to his hands, which lay folded in his lap. She smoothed the bandage once more before sitting back down next to him. “Thank you. My dad gave it to me when I was a kid,” She said, her face a picture of fond heartache. “What’s the symbol for?” Daryl asked quietly. “It’s called a claddagh, it’s Irish. The hands represent friendship, the heart, love, and the crown, loyalty. My dad ran a marathon in Dublin when I was young. I think it was sort of a bucket list thing. He brought back this necklace for me. I used to wear it everywhere as a kid, I mean I really loved it. Then in high school I thought I was too cool and it got shoved in a drawer for a while until I found it again in college. I’ve worn it ever since.” She brushed away a tear that was poised to fall and sighed. “Especially when shit went down, I don’t know where my parents are, if they’re alive at all...” she paused, chest heaving, words thick. He could see her denying tears. “Still feels like they’re with me,” she finished with a soft smile. How she could manage to smile after that, he had no idea.

“Sorry to bring it up,” he sighed. “Didn’t mean to make ya sad,” He dropped his eyes once again. “Stop doing that.” She sounded genuinely annoyed. He looked up, confused. “Doin’ what?” He couldn’t fight the scowl that made its way onto his face. “Gettin’ all down on yourself! Whenever you’re beating yourself up you always look down like that! Like you’re ashamed, and I’m sick of it! Dixon, you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of!” She was almost yelling now, and he had to fight the urge to lower his gaze again. He settled for scowling at the horizon. He stayed quiet, unsure of how to respond. She placed a gentle hand on his cheek and turned his head so he was forced to meet her eyes.

“Daryl, you’re the best of us. I mean it. It kills me that you don’t see it. Please, just...” She trailed off, searching his eyes as he practically held his breath. Maybe if he didn’t breathe, didn’t let anything in or out, she wouldn’t be able to see through him, whatever ridiculous and righteous illusion she had created in her mind would remain untouched, unharmed. “For me Daryl, please, try not to be so hard on yourself.” “I don’t-” he started, trying to look down again but she immediately cut him off. “No. I’m not done.” She held his gaze with a look that said Look away Dixon, I dare you. “I don’t pick just anyone to be my best friend, Dixon. Believe it or not I don’t just go around gettin’ chummy with every redneck who picks me up from the side of the road.” He couldn’t help the surprised, sort of strangled laugh that escaped him. His reaction drew a gentle, warm smile across her lips and even after a year of knowing her he still couldn’t fight the heat that ran beneath his skin whenever she directed that small slice of sunlight towards him.

She leaned in and planted a quick kiss on his cheek, something she had incorporated into their little routine (not that it made his heart slow or his face flush any less when she did it the first time or the 50th time), and sighed. “I’m sorry for flipping out on you. I just care about you and I hate seeing you doubt yourself like that.” “-‘S ok.” He said, forcing himself to hold her gaze and not lower his head like he wanted so badly to do. She narrowed her eyes a bit as she studied his face, and he could practically hear her mind moving, analyzing him. It scared him, he wasn’t used to feeling so seen. She seemed to realize that he wasn’t going to say any more and pulled him into a hug. He stiffened immediately, and she pulled back slightly before he forced himself to relax. She let out a small laugh that was more awkward than genuine, no humor behind it.

“I feel like I’ve done enough damage for one day,” Voice apologetic as she moved to stand but instinctively Daryl reached out and grabbed her wrist. He was careful to keep his grip light, not forcing her to stay but asking. “Ya haven’t. Ya could stay... if ya want” He said, voice barely above a whisper. She broke out into a full grin and lowered herself back down to sit beside him. She leaned her head on his shoulder and he felt some of the tension in his body melt away. “You really are the best of us.” She said with a small sigh, and he responded with a small grunt that drew a burst of giggles out of her, which slowly dissolved into comfortable silence as the sun began to disappear over the horizon.

For a while this life at the prison almost felt too good to be true. Of course it was. Reality always came crashing down, weighing heavily on his shoulders in the end.

The governor came crashing through the gates with a goddamn tank and everything went to shit again. Except this time he didn’t have her there to reassure him that it would all turn out alright. He had Beth, which was a close second in terms of optimism, but then suddenly he didn’t even have her and everything felt like it was falling apart around him. He was completely alone, his family all likely dead, and he had fallen in with a group that made him feel more like his daddy than he had ever wanted to feel. He stuck it out with those assholes for no reason other than that tiny glimmer of hope that Beth was still out there somewhere. If nothing else, he owed it to that girl to get her out of whatever mess he landed her in in the first place. And then he found Rick, Carl, and Michonne and suddenly his reasons to live had multiplied by three. Terminus was a flash of hope. It didn’t bring him any closer to finding Beth, but Rick pointed out that if anyone from the group survived and found the signs, they would likely be heading there as well.

The train tracks had been easy enough to follow. As the compound came into view, for just a brief moment Daryl allowed himself to hope. But once inside that hope began to very quickly whittle away. It was too quiet, and there was something off about that Gareth guy. And suddenly they were spotting Hershel’s pocket watch, and the riot gear, and Maggie’s poncho and a silver necklace with a claddagh charm and then Daryl felt himself begin to drown. Everything that had kept him going, the small spark of hope that he had allowed to live inside him had been drenched. Now all he felt was steam rising, his insides boiling, but before he could do anything about it the gunfire began and then they were herded towards a boxcar.

Daryl wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but his whole family corralled into one place had definitely not been it. They were all there except Carol and baby Judith, two losses which weighed heavily on the entire group. But everyone else was there and safe and alive. He scanned the room, giving hugs and looking people up and down, making sure everyone looked ok. He moved slowly through the car, through each of his family members, before he came to a stop in front of a figure balled up in the corner. Her face was hidden but her frame was unmistakable.

“Y/N?” he asked, and her name on his lips again felt like coming back to a place you’ve once called home. She slowly picked your head up, and he immediately noticed the dark circles under her eyes, and the way her cheeks looked gaunt and hollow. But when she saw that it was really him, that Daryl Dixon was really standing in front of her, her eyes widened. She leapt to her feet with surprising speed and threw her arms around him. His arms wrapped around her body and when he lifted her off of her feet for a moment he could have sworn that the weight of the world wasn’t all that much to hold. She pulled away and placed her hands on either side of his face.

“I can’t believe it’s really you” Tears began to pool in her eyes and she pulled him back in for another hug, face buried in his shoulder. He could feel her shoulders shake and a patch of wetness grow on his shirt. “Thought you were gone.” She whispered. He shook his head and brought a hand up to stroke her hair. “Naw, ain’t gettin’ rida me that easy now, womanl” He said quietly. After a few more moments she pulled away and just stared at him with those wide, shocked eyes. “Promise I ain’t goin’ anywhere, I’ll still be here if ya blink” She nodded and let out a shaky exhale. “I missed you,” she whispered just as Rick and Carl made their way over to give her a hug. “Missed ya too” he said.

He took a few steps back, and only when he stepped away did he notice the cold emptiness nipping at him, like something was missing. He watched her hug Rick and Carl, he watched the most important people in the world to him all come back together in a single moment, and yet he felt cold. She was crying. She was hugging people. She was telling everyone how much she missed them.

She wasn’t smiling.

[marvelstarwarsetc]

All We Know-Daryl Dixon

PART SEVEN (In Daryl’s POV)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: Cussing, Violence, Gore (The fact that its the walking dead should be warning enough lol)

Summary: Finding her way back to her sisters was all that mattered to her. When the world ended she had lost everything, so finding them became all that mattered. Or at least, it was, until she stumbled across a redneck hunting in the woods.

*Starts in Season 1 and will be a multi part fic*

Part One  Part two  Part Three  Part Four  Part Five  Part Six  Part Seven  Part Eight

Daryl’s blue eyes couldn’t help but follow wherever Y/N went that following day. It was obvious to everyone around camp that she was trying her hardest not to break, not even looking at Andrea, or Amy’s body.

Daryl wanted nothing more than to drive a pick axe through the youngest Harrison’s head, before Andrea let her sister come back as one of those dead son of a bitches. But the rest of the group wouldn’t let it happen, even though it was clear it needed to. The longer they waited to do it the closer they got to having another walker in camp. A walker that they knew, someone people cared about. With that thought his eyes once again found Y/n.

She was currently with Glenn and T-dog separating their dead from the dead walkers. Glenn and T-dog were making idle conversation as they got the job done, probably trying to distract themselves from what they were doing, but from what Daryl could tell Y/N hadn’t said a word. In fact, she hadn’t said a word to anyone since before the walkers attacked.

When the group of four had finally made it back to camp from Atlanta the night before, all they were met with were screams of terror. They heard it long before they saw it, and Daryl would be lying if he said he didn’t run a little faster when he remembered that she was still at camp. There was something about her that made him want to make sure she was okay, something about her that drew him to her. The way she smiled at him when she snuck up on him in the woods that day, the way she told him she didn’t pity him. The way she defended him when everyone else was fighting about going to Atlanta for his brother. There was just something about her that he couldn’t place, even though he had just met her a day or two before.

The first thing he did when he and the others made it to camp was look for her, and it didn’t take long at all. She was in the middle of camp, surrounded by at least ten walkers as everyone else was standing by the RV taking out as many walkers as they could with their guns. 

He couldn’t get the image of her stabbing those walkers out of his head. It was like she wasn’t even in control of herself, as though someone else was controlling her every move. Her face was completely void of emotion as she drove her tactical knife in and out of those walker’s heads with unmatched precision. At the time he couldn’t figure out why she’d put herself at risk like that, why she was acting the way that she was. And then they managed to clear all the walkers out, and he saw Andrea laying in the mud with Amy’s body cradled in her arms, and then he understood.

 And when he looked back to see her standing in the midst of dead walkers, just staring at her sister’s body with nothing but a lost look on her face, he cautiously walked to her and put his hand on her shoulder, desperately trying to get her to look at him instead of Amy. He wanted to say something, though he never found the words and she pulled away from him before he could. When she climbed up the ladder and took watch for the rest of the night, he just pulled up a chair by then end of the RV, letting her do what she needed to cope, not letting anyone take her off that roof. 

So he decided to spend the rest of the day quietly keeping an eye on her as everyone worked together to get their dead buried, and the walkers in a pile to be burned. 

He watched her as she heaved bodies into the truck bed by herself once Glenn and T-dog had moved on to another task, watched as she took a pick axe to various skulls, watched as she stopped when she made it to Ed’s body. Watched as she looked back at Carol and wordlessly handed the woman the pick axe and took a step back, letting Carol do what she had to do.

He knew Ed had been the one to give her the black eye that currently marred her face, and if Daryl had been in camp when it happened it wouldn’t have been a walker that took Ed out. It was pretty much common knowledge that Ed hit Carol, and probably their little girl too. But as much as Daryl wanted to put an end to it, Merle always told him to stay out of it. After all, he and Merle were only supposed to stay in camp long enough to rob everyone. Then Merle went ahead and got himself chained to that roof and things for Daryl changed. Maybe they had even changed before then. 

It took Daryl by surprise when Y/n suddenly marched over to where her sisters were for the first time since Amy got bit, and put a bullet into her little sister’s head without saying a word. He didn’t blame her for it, not at all. But when he saw the look that she let slip onto her face as she pulled the trigger, he regretted not just doing it himself hours before.

Everyone in the group froze, just watching as everything after seemed to happen in slow motion. The gun dropped from Y/n’s hand, as she was seemingly letting everything sink in finally, and then all of a sudden Andrea shot up off the ground and started to pound her fists into Y/N while incoherently screaming at her. If the gun hadn’t slid under the RV when it hit the ground, Daryl wondered if Andrea would have shot her. The way she slammed her fists into Y/n made him think that she would have.

For a minute everyone stood where they were, not knowing what to do, not sure if they should get involved. It was obvious Y/n could handle herself, and Andrea wasn’t nearly as strong as her sister. But then things changed when Andrea got Y/N down on the ground and everyone sprung into action. 

By the time Shane managed to pull Andrea off her sister she had managed to get in a couple well placed hits, and Y/N’s face was covered in blood. When Daryl reached her she had fallen unconscious, and he looked up at the others, unsure of what to do.

When everyone just stared at the woman with different emotions, Daryl sighed and lifted her into his arms, making sure to support her head with his arm, and carried her down to where he and Merle had set up camp. He would’ve brought her into the RV as that would have been ideal, but he didn’t want Andrea anywhere near her right now.  He delicately placed her into the bed of his old truck before grabbing his pillow and sleeping bad out of his tent and tried to make the truck bed as comfortable for her as possible. 

A few minutes later Lori and Carol came running down with a first aid kit, and Daryl left them to work on her as he made his way back over to the RV where most of the people who were left were just standing, unsure of what to do. He looked around for a second, when he saw Dale come out of the RV with a sheet in his hand. He nodded at the old man for a sec and then the two of them, along with the help of Rick and Shane, wrapped Amy’s body in the cloth and brought it over to where Jim had dug up some graves the day before.

It was bad enough Y/n had to be the one to stop Amy from coming back, the least everyone else could do was handle burying her so she wouldn’t have to do that too.

Part Eight 

[morphituu]

Milagro

Chapter 13: “Her Shield”

Ch: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12

The disbelief in Makhel’s eyes matched Daryl’s, but all too quickly did stunning triumph stir a smile across Ward’s mouth, his hold securing tighter around the wand despite the discomfort of his burned skin rubbing the wooden handle, but now they were at a standstill, staring one another down.

Ward was never taught any war spells, only how to call the wand.

“Tikka,” he hissed, nudging her, his eyes still on the bewildered Orc, but she remained slumped over Fero’s remains, whimpering softly to herself. “Tikka!” he hissed again, pushing her, but she still wouldn’t budge.

Daryl dared to pull his eyes away, tugging from under Tikka’s arms but she fought against him, unintelligible wails springing from her. “Get up and use that fucking wand!” he seethed, looking back to Makhel, but instead found him bolting across the road towards Rania.

Ward cursed under his breath, stumbling around Tikka to pursue him.

Makhel hesitated greatly when reaching for the brittle, makeshift wand still clutched in her cold palm. Rigimortous had already set in across her icy skin, and when he yanked upwards and her body followed, her cheek fell against his foot that he flinched back from, a startled yelp hatching in his throat.

There was nothing left of life in Rania, but her eyes seemed to follow him as he staggered back, whispering jumbled apologies. The wand- if it could even be called that- was looked over swiftly, but the further he rolled it in his touch, the more the delicate grain fragmented, quickly breaking apart into a dusty pile between his feet.

Another panicked moment coupled by an equally frantic glance in Ward’s direction prompted Makhel to bolt, but his legs felt heavy, as if weights were strapped around his ankles. He fought past the affliction and the tightness in his chest, heading for the closest store he could escape through.

Nick used his elbow to push aside the door that was blocked with fallen shelves and stools from the bar it sat behind, carefully squeezing in sideway with Callie in his arms.

“A’right, here we go,” he intoned, sitting her in one of the stools still standing.

“I’m okay,” she again insisted despite her hand not leaving her stomach since she’d come back into consciousness. “We need to get out of here,”

“We will,” he called from behind the counter, searching through the fallen objects and disorganized shelves for anything to halt the trickle of blood that had started back up with her heart. “I need to find Ward first,”

She was trying her best to look through the dirty and cracked windows of the diner when she accidentally picked off a fresh scab from the slice across her cheek, inhaling sharply when it stung. Blood smeared her fingertips, stirring a vexed exhale.

Nick came back around with wash cloths and a water pitcher still filled with ice, first unknotting the shirt he’d originally used to dampen the open wound and then ripping her jeans to better inspect.

Callie looked away, a hand over her mouth as he doused the slice across her thigh with the chilled water. It stung, but nothing matched up to the wrath of her now non-existent labor just a short time ago. Although it was stalled, recalling the intensity of the contractions left a very vivid impression across her, and she couldn’t help but question if she’d make it when the appropriate time came to give birth.

Looking up at Nick’s face was far better distraction from all of that than the ruined wall behind the bar that had little to keep her attention, but upon observing the way the light from outside reflected off his cheeks, it occurred to her that he’d not only been crying, but sobbing. He nearly startled when she reached for him suddenly, wiping the heel of her palm across his damp cheek after pulling a sleeve down over it.

He looked flustered by the manner in which he rubbed his cheek against his shoulder to rid of the remaining tear trails, but she pulled him in to bump foreheads, reassuring him in soft whispers to not feel ashamed for crying.

To explain the dread he’d felt while watching the life bleed from her was impossible, so taking the moment to pull her in for a tight embrace and inhale the life that was returned to her brought him away from those bleak thoughts that only highlighted the worst possible outcomes if Rania hadn’t come along.

Neither wanted to pull from that hold, but he scrunched his nose against her neck when the smell of blood wafted under his nose, prompting him to pull away and return to the task at hand after kissing her cheek, then her palm when she slid them gently down his face. Again she looked away instead of witnessing him mop up the steady trickle of blood.

“This isn’t gonna work,” he growled, trying to fashion the cloths together, but they barely did their job of soaking up anything.

She dared a glance before her eyes landed on his own wounds across his arm. “Baby your arm,” she reached, moving his sleeve up, but he only pushed her hands away.

“Sit still- your cheek,” he exasperated, turning her jaw and using the back of his hand to wipe away the stray droplet after spotting it. “I gotta find a first-aid kit,”

“And then we can leave?” she asked, only getting a few dabs in over the slice of his arm before he tossed the useless rags away.

“Stay here,” he motioned to move, but she grabbed him. “I’ll be right back,” he held her face when he promised that, giving her a few hard kisses that she clung to. “Don’t try to walk,”

It was with reluctance that she let go, watching him move haphazardly over the fallen chairs and tables, the floor littered with food and broken dishes before vanishing into the back through the double doors.

She sat back in the stool uneasily, cautiously letting her eyes roam over the diner and linger even longer out the clouded windows, wondering where the battle had suddenly gone. Leo fluttered under her palm reassuringly, and she looked down, her lips pulling into a weak smile. More than anything she wished to cradle him and admire the twice lived miracle somersaulting in her stomach, but knowing he was where he was supposed to be was the greater reassurance.

So far he’d only found boxes of preserved foods and monstrous cans lining metal shelves as he squeezed his way around the narrow back room, and upon only finding rolls of paper towels thus far, he realized he might just have to settle with what they had. His first plan of action after finding a way out of the town- with or without Tikka- was getting Callie to a hospital. He’d done a decent job at keeping his concerns to himself after they’d literally passed in his arms, but he was certain that there would be no easy resting until he heard it from a doctors mouth that both of them were stable.

He took a cautionary breath, fighting the burn in his eyes.

After this, the only excitement Nick looked forward to was Leo’s arrival- the planned and scheduled arrival that he had plenty of time to prepare for.

He was about to throw in the towel when a flash of red caught his eye, and skipped sideways to find a first-aid kit tacked to the wall and collecting dust. A quick look over it’s contents insured it would do a far better job than the rags he’d found-

The shattering then clattering of glass across the ground in the lobby alerted Nick, followed by a desperate cry from Callie before it abruptly halted.

The fear rushed back into his body as he crashed through the double doors, skidding to a halt to find Ward stood before Callie protectively with a wand in hand and pointed across the room towards Makhel who had blood running freely down his face from the significant slice across the top of his head.

It took only a matter of seconds to put it all together, but now they were at a stand still.

Callie looked at Nick, panic brimming her wide eyes, but Ward had his arm curled back across her ensuring there was no chance of her being hit.

Makhel was heaving, glancing between the men, and even across the diner Nick could see his body trembling. He looked sickly, but the craze in his eyes unsettled him greatly.

He wanted to shout at Ward to just fire already; he couldn’t understand why he was just standing there, until it all made sense.

Ward hadn’t been taught any attacks.

Sure he could wield it, but what else?

Nick wanted to scoop Callie up and bolt, even if it meant leaving the psychopath that had pursued them alive, but leaving someone even as able bodied as Ward to an Orc was only allowing a one-sided fight. Makhel was young, but Orcs were born with strength, so adding what he assumed was desperation and crazed fear to the equation meant he’d fight viciously, something Nick knew was gruesome and had bared witness to.

A long breath exhaled, and Nick’s fists clenched at his sides. He knew now what needed to be done.

“Ward get Callie out of here,” Nick grumbled lowly, moving before both of them.

“What?” Callie tried to move past Ward’s shoulder, but he was still holding her back.

“Daryl go.” Nick barked, his chest puffed with his chin down, face slowly pulling onto a hard snarl. Makhel zeroed in on Nick, immediately recognizing the fight he proposed. The younger Orc followed suit, his lips pulling back over his bleeding gums to show his sharp teeth.

“Nick-” Callie reached for him, but she was restricted by Daryl, her finger tips barely grazing his back before she was pulled away. “NICK NO!” she cried, fighting against his hold, reaching frantically for her lover.

It took great restraint to not turn to her, but Nick kept his eyes locked with Makhel’s, the two breathing heavily and standing their tallest.

“NICK DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE!” Callie sobbed, thrashing every step of the way. Ward found it surprisingly difficult to hold her as he made his way through the back door, resorting to hoisting her up against his chest to yank her grip from the frame as she continued to scream.

Nick caught the flicker of Makhel’s eyes following Callie and Ward, so he moved to block them, chuffing loudly.

Makhel shifted unnaturally, his step appearing untrustworthy. “You bred a human whore,”

A resounding growl burst from Nick, his body trembling from the ferocity in which he emitted the long snarls, the adrenaline collecting in his skull. His chest heaved with deep breaths, examining the stench of sickness coming off of the dwindling Orc before him, but there was also the flare of raw challenge coming off of him much in the same manner it was radiating from Nick.

When Makhel again shifted, Nick did so the opposite direction, starting a slow circle around one another, sizing each other up as they both continued to display their strength, and ferociousness.

“I’ss because of ones like you that we can never be above them,” Makhel went on weakly, but his smile was all mighty. “Your own child’s a mistake- taking the place a pure Orc should,”

Nick was ready to throw himself at him and slug until he was a pile of meat, but he fought the vigor in his legs knowing there would be a better chance.

He narrowed his eyes, uttering, “Rania was a halfling,”

Makhel stiffened, an angered chuff firing at Nick.

“Did you hate her?”

“Shut up,” Makhel barked.

“Did you blame her for being who she was?”

“She was perfect and they ruined her!” he hollered, spitting bloody saliva.

“You killed her!” Nick boomed, and just as Makhel had pushed off his toes, Nick was also barreling towards him, their bodies meeting in a loud clash as hands flung to gouge and jaws opened to rip.

They were a blur of clashing muscle and thundering roars, one sometimes getting in a solid hit and then the other firing back with a gut-wrenching tackle, throwing them about the already broken room that crumbled beneath their dueling bodies. Makhel resorted more to clamping down with his teeth, always aiming for Nick’s throat or inner arms, but a neck snapping swing would always daze him a moment or two, yet not long enough to stop the frenzied rage that was keeping Makhel standing and holding his own.

“Callie stop!” Ward was still struggling, his cheek ringing where she’d already squeezed in a few hits with her elbow.

“Let me go!” she demanded, fighting against his strong hold all the while watching Nick and Makhel brawl, their monstrous roars and strikes just as clear outside as it was inside. She could see Nick thrown across the ground, rushing to stand and only having Makhel land on him.

“Get OFF!” she screamed, trying to twist out of his hold.

“If you go in there you’ll get caught in the middle- damnit, Callie!”

In a moment of delirium, Makhel had gotten his hands around Nick’s neck, sitting on his chest so kicking him away wasn’t doable, and now Nick pulled at his hands desperately, his eyes welling with tears and panic flooding the longer his thumbs pressed into his throat.

“You’re the kind of person who allows the world to go on raping and defiling! I was doing the world a favor and you got involved!” Makhel bawled, his arms shaking from the force he held Nick down, but in a final burst of capability, Nick’s hand finally gripped something sturdy while brushing the ground desperately- a beer mug that he swung the bottom of into Makhel’s temple.

He fell to his side, holding his hand over the gash now gushing after the mug shattered against his skin while Nick struggled to his feet, coughing hoarsely and choking on the air he tried to suck back into his lungs.

His bloodshot eyes found Makhel getting to his feet just as he was, disregarding the blood in his mouth and the bites and cuts across his body that burned.

While he was still steadying, Nick lunged at him, resuming the thunderous shouts and tears as before when Makhel turned to fight back, his snapping jaws coming painfully close to Nick’s face before he blew his forearm into his chin to send him flying into a table, only to break under his body. Nick had already grabbed a chair when the younger Orc turned to scamper to his feet, hollering when the seat slammed into his back and broke into pieces.

“You’re a fucking psycho,” Nick spat, using Makhel’s own defense against him when he again charged. Although his tusks were filed, Nick’s bite was still as deadly, his teeth sinking into Makhel’s forearm when he attempted to push the cop back through the windows. Sour blood pooling in his mouth prompted him to release, completely numb to Makhel’s scream or yanking against Nick’s jaws.

Nick spit, his face twisting when the blood coated his tongue and throat, staining his teeth when they bared before a loud snarl.

Despite shaking his wounded arm and the clear discomfort across his face, Makhel came at him again.

“Get the fuck- OFF!” Callie shrieked, digging her nails into Ward’s arm even more after he’d hissed in pain the first few times.

At this point, Daryl was losing his already barely bridled patience, and was close to letting her go so she’d fall and he could just drag her away, but even then he was sure she’d find a way to weasel from his hold.

“He needs our help!” she argued, but it didn’t lessen his hold around her.

“If we get between that we-” but the wind was knocked from him, pain radiating into his stomach immediately after she’d slugged him in the groin with all the momentum she had. Ward tried to hang onto her jacket as he buckled, but he was having a harder time breathing as he fell to his side, cursing at her as she bolted back to the diner as louder roars start emerging from inside.

She crawled through the floor to ceiling high windows this time instead of bothering with the back door, solutions rushing her when she witnessed Nick in a chokehold and thrashing wildly against Makhel, both of them riddled with debris, and blood, and bruises.

Callie’s eyes jumped until they landed on a partially destroyed stool, hoisting it over her shoulder and swinging with all her might into Makhel’s side.

He arched, screaming, letting go of Nick but swiftly turning on her with a booming cry.

She had only a half-second to turn and run, but he already had his hands on her, tossing her aside like garbage.

To Nick, it happened slowly, but he knew he hadn’t turned fast enough to stop it before Callie rolled and crashed across the tables and chairs, finally stopping when her body slammed up against a booth. A constricted cry caught in her throat, her arms shaking and body lighting up with pain when she tried to sit up.

Just as she’d turned to Makhel’s reaching hands and twisting face, Nick tackled him and sent them back into the destroyed rubble around them.

His raging heart was pulsing behind his eyes and in his ears, his vision bleeding over with red as he dealt blow after blow into Makhel’s already swollen face. All the soreness and weak across Nick’s body wasn’t even detected; only unchecked fury pumping into his limbs, gathering in his chest then billowing out through heaving breaths.

It wasn’t until Nick felt a few of his own knuckles pop that he stopped, breathing gravelly above Makhel who was sputtering for air.

A tusk was broken off and stuck in Nick’s knuckle, but he didn’t notice, not while looking down at his concave face and blood pooling under his head, an eye sunk deep into its socket.

“Y-you know I’m right-” Makhel spat, holding his deformed head. “I’ll do it- I’ll kill-”

But in a final fit of rage, Nick’s powerful jaws closed around his neck, thrashing his head viciously until the flesh and muscle gave way, ripping open his throat.

Makhel’s body convulsed, strangled cries that couldn’t reach past the blood in his throat filling the quiet room as he slowly drowned, clawing desperately at his own throat. Nick watched the life drain from his eyes and fear crawl it’s way in, consuming his last thoughts until the last of his spasms had stopped, and the crimson spurting from his throat slowed.

Nick spat the last of the sour blood onto his face, a hard chuff following.

It was necessary, but upon spotting the butter knife beside him, Nick hastily grabbed it and plunged the blunt blade into Makhel’s chest, watching carefully for any reaction, but there was nothing left of the rogue Bright.

“Agh thaav'uk killaumn mausan fuckaumn hundur.” He slurred, finally finding his way back up to his feet to stagger away from the boy he’d just murdered. His breaths were heavying as well as his limbs, and the agony that had before been numbed was soaking into his muscles and bones, building a steady tremble up his battered body.

“Nick?”

He looked to Callie, now realizing she’d witnessed him annihilating Makhel, and it showed in her peeled eyes, but she remained unmoving, still sitting before the booth her body had struck.

He chuffed blood from his nose and mouth, stumbling when he turned to face her. “Are you okay-” but he collapsed, his body falling harshly across a turned chair and breaking under him.

“Nick!” she exclaimed, crawling to him as he dragged his body across the floor to her, groaning when his head fell against her stomach, the rest of his exhausted form following. He lay sprawled across the tiles, his head cradled in Callie’s touch as she cried over him, wiping away the blood across his mouth and chin, simply thankful that she’d lived through all of it- that both her and Leo had. He turned his cheek against her stomach when Leo stirred, exhaling shakily.

It was a short lived moment of tenderness between the two before Ward finally made his way back in, wand raised in mock protection before he spotted the couple twisted in one another beside a mutilated Makhel.

“Holy…” he trailed off, carefully walking around the corpse, a hand hovering over his tender lower abdomen. “You good? You okay?” he asked the pair, both of them nodding tiredly.

Nick’s bruising eye cracked open when Ward slumped beside them, letting the wand roll out of his palm.

Callie leaned back against the booth, Nick still held partially against her lap and stomach, letting her eyes close a moment as the quiet around them seeped in, the exhaustion finally rooting into her bones after days of constant anxiousness. It occurred to her that unwinding beside a corpse shouldn’t have been so easy, but she also couldn’t believe how drained she felt.

Ward kept looking at the body before them, then back at Nick, wondering just what kind of fight ensued while he was wrestling to keep Callie away.

He hit Nick’s arm, pointing, “Where’s all that pissed off when we’re working?”

Nick scoffed, wincing when his ribs protested.

The three melted back into their exhaustion, staring here and there, hunger even starting to awaken in their void guts.

“I wanna go home.” Callie mumbled, the men nodding in agreement.

It took a few tries to get Nick standing on his feet, and even when he didn’t tip over like a redwood the third time, Callie still had trouble keeping him upright enough to walk, but neither wanted to be anywhere near the wand that Ward was carrying again. The first-aid kit was collected before they found their way out of the store, but none of them knew how much it could help their various stages and degrees of injuries.

They collectively halted when Tikka was spotted across the road, still slumped over Fero, but this had been the first time Nick or Callie had seen him, both completely oblivious that they could have sustained their own injuries from the fight, and apparently Fero had been dealt the worst blow.

Ward kept them back with an upturned palm, calmly walking up to her.

Some kind of spell had been cast to bring Fero’s torn face back together, but there was still evidence of it; the way his skin puckered and scarred, his left eye still drooping a little. It honestly set Daryl off a little bit; they’d been in the thick of the fight, Nick risking his own life to give them a head start and she’d been here putting Fero back together instead of helping.

After everything she’d asked of them, she didn’t even see the fights end.

He pushed that down; he really just wanted to leave.

“Tikka,” he called, but she didn’t even move. “Tikka it’s time to go,”

Her head shook, still hung.

“We can’t stay here,” he pressed more urgently, yet her hands did not leave his that she’d clasped over his stomach.

Her head shook, slowly, her shoulders trembling. “I… I can’t,” she choked. “I have to… I can’t leave him here,”

“Tikka,” he stepped closer, chilled in the shadow of the building. “He’s gone, you have to leave,”

“No!” she screamed, and the same sharp snap of flames that had appeared in Makhel’s hand when Rania had disarmed him flickered in Ward’s, his wand springing towards Tikka for her to catch. Though her eyes were swollen and glossy with unshed tears, she still glared hatefully up at him for even suggesting she leave his side.

Daryl held his singed hand, scoffing.

“That’s it? After all the shit you pulled and the fight we finished you expect us to just walk our asses outta here!?” Daryl shouted, but there was nothing else she offered after that initial look before turning back to Fero, scooting on her knees closer to him with both wands in her possession now.

“Get up!” he demanded, but she was unmoving. He huffed, tempted to shake her, but instead turned heel to trudge past Nick and Callie who were also in a state of disbelief, but clearly there was nothing left to do.

“Tikka,” Nick called, and she surprisingly looked to him with tired eyes. “Stay gone this time.” He instructed, pulling Callie under his arm to turn and follow Daryl down the desolate street, unbothered to leave any final glances in her direction this time.

If she was leaving them with nothing, they’d do the same. Nick expected a spell to meet his back or swallow them all up from the ground with their backs turned to her, but silence was the only thing that filled the space between them with every step forward.

Quickly they caught up with Daryl, the three deciding that hot-wiring a car would be their best and quickest bet out of God knew where they were, but it was slim pickings, mostly old sedans with steering wheel locks or a few others that had clearly been parked longer than they could run. A few scooters and bikes here and there, but they all perked up when Callie spotted an old Ford sitting in the shade of an alley, with thankfully, no steering lock.

Callie kept careful watch over the still barren streets as they secured their ride, Ward tearing the steering column out and Nick pulling the various boxes of junk from the bed until the truck was roaring to life.

Nick helped Callie hoist herself into the high seats, struggling more himself when his body protested severely. Ward found his seat behind the wheel just as Nick had lifted his arm to let Callie’s head rest back against his chest, both of them melting into the bench seat as Daryl pulled onto the dirt road. Everything across their bodies hurt, even in spots they didn’t know could ache as the distance between them and the battle that almost claimed their lives grew into a shrinking landscape once they’d left the small town.

It was a rough, jumpy ride, but just thinking if the distance they’d already covered if they had had to walk was enough to make them collapse.

“Where are we going?” Callie questioned softly, even if she was sure there would be no answer or clue from either of them as they made their way down the twisting roadway.

↠

Daryl stretched loudly once stepping out of the truck, his sore body for a small moment feeling bliss with his hands above his head and body locked tight in a pleasing stretch. The truck would likely stay here after this visit to the small hospital they’d found nestled in an actual city they’d followed sparse signs into after driving aimlessly for hours, but Ward still kept the doors unlocked on the off chance they found themselves running for their lives again.

He just couldn’t yet shake the feeling he still had to keep an eye over his shoulder.

Rounding the tail of the truck brought him to Callie and Nick who were also stretching past the discomfort in their riddled bodies, staggering around when the blood rushed to their heads.

Callie handed back the rag she’d tied around Nick’s knuckles when he finally picked Makhel’s tusk from his fist before they wandered up to the entrance of the hospital, turning heads towards their startling conditions.

A nurse’s watchful eyes had been on them since they’d first entered, rising from her seat behind the desk before they made it to her, but the closer the came the more she showed concern, mainly at Callie’s obvious condition.

“Puedo ayudarte?” the nurse asked skeptically, eyeing Nick, but he was too exhausted to even care.

Callie pondered that a second. “Fuimos asaltados,” she decided, letting a silent breath go when the nurse showed surprise instead of suspicion and started putting together paperwork.

“She goes first- she’s twenty weeks pregnant,” Nick insisted, ushering her towards the other nurses that were clamoring around them. Ward was trying to understand the quick Spanish being fired at him as they lead him away from the desk and into a wheelchair, and he quickly took advantage of the offered ride, waving at Nick and Callie with his head leaning back and arms slackening against the arm rests.

“You are de… de father?” the nurse asked Nick, the pager phone pressed between her cheek and shoulder.

“Yeah,” he answered distractedly when other nurses started to lead Callie to her own wheelchair, stuffing a pillow behind her back just as a male nurse had come up behind Nick to lead him a different way.

“Wait- wait,” he walked after her quickly, leaning over to plant a few kisses upon her lips, kissing her knuckles before he let them take her. “Be careful with her, that’s my baby.” He told them, walking backwards with a hand on his chest as he watched them wheel her away. She looked back at him with a tired grin, but Nick didn’t budge until the double doors had closed behind her, finally following the other nurses down the hall.

↠

It had been a few hours of examining, poking, stitching and cleaning, but at least she’d been able to stay in the same gurney the entire time so she could nap in between visits, and all the while she’d had the sound of Leo’s steady heartbeat filling the room with the fetal monitor wrapped around her stomach. She’d grin every time the loud swirling of his movement came through the speakers, her hand following his little bumps and kicks.

Ultrasounds and constant monitoring had assured her that, from what they saw, Leo was perfectly fine despite them not knowing how close she’d come to losing him forever.

Approaching chattering outside brought her attention to her door when it opened, smiling when Nick struggled his way in as he argued with nurses, trying to speak over and convince them he had no idea what they were saying as they went on to insist he go back to his room. It wasn’t until Callie translated and explained he was the father- with more surprising looks again- that they calmed, advising him harshly not to jostle her or disrupt any rest.

“Why do they always think I’m gonna assault you?” he questioned aloud, waiting until the door had clicked behind them to lean over and smother her with kisses.

“You look worse than I do,” she giggled between his smooches, noting the stitches across his face and bandaging covering his form.

“How’s my boy?” he asked lovingly, carefully avoiding the monitor as he kissed around her stomach, a wide smile growing across his face when he heard Leo move.

“Everything is clear. Back to doing jumping jacks,” she smiled sleepily.

“Really?” he asked in wonder, pausing to glance up at her as she nodded. “Part of me was convinced he wouldn’t be a hundred percent,”

“Me too,” she ran the back of her knuckles against his cheek as he pressed his face to her stomach. “El es nuestro milagro,”

“I know what that means,” he grinned, a final kiss placing just over her belly button and beside a particularly large bruise. “How’re you feeling baby?”

“Just tired, hungry. I’m sore but they can only get me aspirin,” she explained unenthusiastically.

“They won’t let you eat?” he asked, brows arching.

She shook her head. “Might need an x-ray,”

“That’s stupid,” he grunted, carefully crawling over her legs to plop onto the bed behind her with a loud huff, wrapping his arm under her bust and shaping to her. She groaned appreciatively, flipping the blanket back over his side to comfortably soak in the warmth radiating off him.

“You’re freezing,” he noted, flinching when she pushed her feet back and up between his calves.

“It’s cold in here,” she mumbled, moaning again when he stroked her arm.

It was quiet beside the steady thrum of Leo’s heartbeat, Callie’s skin quickly warming with every second he remained pressed to her. Though he could’ve slept, Nick still had a difficult time taking his eyes off the door, expecting it to blow open at any moment. It only secured his hold around her tighter, mumbling a low apology when she grunted.

“I can’t wait to be home,” she murmured. “We need to figure out what we’re gonna tell people if they ask,”

“Kandomere will be here soon to help,” he said into her hair. She looked back at him, a cut brow raising. “He’s the official we were trying to call before Tikka dropped us in that motel room,”

“How’s he gonna know we’re here?”

“We gave them our names. It’ll ping on his end eventually,” he explained, helping her resituate after slowly rolling onto her other side to face him, the monitor still strapped tightly around her. He gave her a lopsided grin, his bandaged hand smoothing away the dirty strands of hair from her face as she pulled his other hand up to ball under her chin, her big eyes sliding shut when his thumb stroked her chin.

“What’s going to happen to us?” Her voice broke through his sleepy haze.

He sighed, considering telling her nothing, we’ll be fine, but he wasn’t fond of daring anymore lies. “They’ll interrogate us, for hours probably. We’ll be examined again cuz wands are radioactive, and they’ll always keep an eye on you from now on,” he explained, watching the words bring down the light of her eyes little by little.

“Are they-” she cleared her throat when it broke. “Will they be rough?”

Nick’s brows pulled in together. “They won’t lay a finger on you. They’re assholes but they’re not animals,”

That seemed to calm some of the unrest, but she still clung to him nervously, moving his hand to her stomach, tucking her head under his chin. “What do I tell them?”

“The truth, nothing but. You were in the dark up until that night and you were just dragged along after that,”

“And what about you? What’ll they do to you?” Callie questioned.

“Nothing, hopefully. We tried to call Kandomere that night. It’s not like we ran willingly,”he rationalized, but his own words he hoped would keep Callie steady did little to pacify his own concerns. Her dissatisfied hum wasn’t unexpected. Nick knew in situations like this the only real reassurance for either of them would be seeing the ordeal at its end. There was no real knowing until then.

“So,” he cut through the tension. “How’re we gonna tell everyone we know we’re having a boy?”

She giggled, craning her head back to look at him. “Let’s just slip it into a normal conversation and see if they notice,”

“My mom’ll pick that up right away. She was hell bent on a girl,”

“Everyone was,” she mumbled, grimacing when her stomach growled loudly.

“Okay,” he kissed her forehead before struggling up onto his hands. “I’m gonna go find food,” he groaned, crawling back over her with difficulty.

“No, come back and spoon me,” she whined, wincing when her thigh twitched and aggravated the stitched wound.

“I’ll be back,” he leaned over to place a few more lasting kisses on her waiting lips. Now that there was no blasts overhead or the constant looming threat, Nick found it easy to lose himself in her touch featherlight across his face, even indulging in a few swipes of his tongue against hers that kick-started a steady chuff that blew across her cheek when his mouth wandered to her jaw.

“A nurse is gonna come in if you keep that up,” she whispered, catching his mouth again.

“Food,” he groaned, standing straight. “Food.” He did that funny little walk to the door, the snug jeans accentuating the sudden arrival of an unexpected guest. Now’s not the time, you dick. He flipped the lights off before hobbling out, knowing she preferred the darkness over the fluorescent lighting and figured she could get a cat nap in before he returned with his earnings.

Callie flashed her own mock snarl when he did before closing the door behind himself, then situating her head deeper into the crisp pillows she’d been propped up with. The bed wasn’t nearly as warm without Nick, but sleep was blanketing her, and now that Leo was calming, she found it easy to slip under, his heart beat still echoing through the room.

“Hey, there you are,” Nick had poked his head into the room upon seeing Daryl’s first and last name spelled incorrectly on the door, finding his friend sprawled across a bed with three emptied and cluttered food trays around him. “Now we know who got the better treatment,”

“I’m assumin’ that means they hate Orcs here like they do in LA?” Daryl queried, turning the volume down on the TV.

“I had to go find food for Callie,” he conveyed bitterly, grunting as he sat in the chair beside his bed.

“That’s fucked up,” his partner agreed. “So how we gon’ get back home after this?”

Nick looked at him derisively. “You know MTF will come kickin’ down the doors soon,”

Ward sighed, staring blankly at the TV. “Yeah, I just didn’t want to think about it,”

“At least we’ll have a ride home,”

“Then we gotta sit in those fuckin’ cells,”

Nick chewed his inner lip. There was no making light of that. “Excited to see Sherri?”

Daryl had only a flat stare for the Orc as his answer, feeling he didn’t actually have to get into the details of how sick he felt just thinking of the fight he was going home to. “Don’t you have’ta get that to Callie?”

Nick took the cue, standing with another sore grunt with his bag of various snacks to amble back to the door. “Find you when Kandomere does.” Nick sneered, closing the door behind him.

He’d long since given up trying to fall asleep after the last nurse came in to take Callie’s vitals and check the ongoing stream of Leo’s heartbeat printed across the endless paper. Even if she had been unreasonably loud and stirred Callie rather rudely, at least she’d kept the lights off so all she had to do was roll back against his chest and pass out after begging Leo to stop kicking her bladder. It left him wide awake and skipping through fuzzy channels on the old TV, sometimes rocking his raised knee to make the bed move and settle Leo down when he inevitably started to thrash enough to wake Callie up.

The fatigue sat in his eyes, but no matter how long he kept them closed in the dark of the room or voided his mind of any tangible thoughts, he just couldn’t shut off his brain. They’d come springing back like a rubberband, louder than before.

Everytime he looked down at Callie in a deep sleep and drooling against his shoulder, he’d see her fading in his arms. He wanted those moments wiped from his memory, but he expected nights filled with nightmares for weeks to come before he found any relief of the sort from them.

So he’d focus on her rosy cheeks, and steal small kisses against her chin or jaw when she’d groan and stir, her head always lifting but eyes remaining shut. What he wouldn’t do to be in their own bed again, without the wires taped and needles stuck in her despite enjoying listening to Leo’s monitor. He just wanted to be in familiar walls, driving down familiar streets-

A familiar, high pitched group of sirens came through the curtained window, and Nick couldn’t help but scoff.

Perfect timing.

“Baby?” Nick patted her thigh over his hips, rubbing when she nuzzled her face against his shoulder. “We gotta go,”

She barely opened her eyes, still rolled halfway back into her skull. “We can’t go an’where,” she slurred, her eyes sliding shut again.

Nick sighed; the extended nap she’d been in clearly wasn’t enough. “They’re here,”

That brought her to consciousness a little more. Callie rested her chin on his shoulder, looking directly at him with one eye open. “What if I mess up?”

“You can’t if you tell the truth,” he reaffirmed.

“But what if I do and they don’t let me go? Or I can’t see you?” she swallowed, her big eyes filling with worry.

“That’s not gonna happen, okay? I won’t let it,” he’d risen to rest on his elbow, holding her face so she’d recognize the sincerity of his words. “MTF chose to cover everything up after the first time-all those murders, all the involvement. They just want things quiet so they can keep slinking around,”

He kissed away her cynical gaze, untangling from her hold before standing stiffly to stretch past the discomfort still riddling his frame.

“Do you think they’ll even release us to them?” she grunted as she sat up, rolling her head back to crack her neck. Stiff beds with thin mattresses only made everything agonize even more across her battered body, she still desiring more sleep, but she didn’t need Nick’s keen hearing to catch the commotion down the hall. Brief arguing before an even briefer silence, and Nick rounded the bed to stand by her just as the door had opened to reveal sharply dressed individuals that swept the room quickly, uncaring of the racket they made.

Nick shook his head with a roll of his eyes when Callie glanced at him; all bark and no bite, he wanted to say.

At last Kandomere stepped in, his unimpressed frown almost making Nick snort, but he withheld from even grinning; surely he’d dealt with his own headaches trying to track them down. Clad in classic Kandomere attire, he crossed his arms, looking between them to scrutinize the various bandages and overall disheveled manner. A morbid curiosity showed in his bowed brows when his line of sight landed on Callie’s stomach, but Nick knew his general disgust in their coupling would prevent any prodding on his part over the matter.

“Well,” Kandomere cleared his throat. “Are we coming willingly?”

“We would’ve been more than willing three days ago,” Nick recounted, rousing little of a reaction from him.

“I hope you have a decent explanation as to why you abruptly vanished,”

“I hope you have a decent explanation as to why the officials that were supposed to be with us weren’t,” without skipping a beat Nick fired back, just as unwilling to pussyfoot around as he.

Kandomere shifted, those metallic eyes hesitating on Callie’s before he turned to the officer that walked in behind him, nodding at his hushed words.

“We’ll continue this back in California. Officer Ward is already waiting with transport.” He directed while turning to walk out, the tightly wound officials following.

Nick visibly relaxed, pushing off the bed to start gathering their sparse belongings.

“Well that was underwhelming,” Callie intoned. Nick faced her with a questioning raise of his brow. “I was expecting Men in Black, not Billie Eilish,”

Nick snorted loudly, continuing to chuckle as he finished rounding up their possessions, which turned out to only be her blood splattered shoes and her tattered clothing that he wouldn’t make her change back into. The scrubs she’d been offered weren’t ideal for the winter weather, but they were all around less alarming.

A nurse alongside the stoic doctor filed in soon after, reluctantly releasing Callie with stern instructions to stay out of trouble, solidifying their assumption that he hadn’t really bought that they’d been mugged. She was disconnected from the monitor and IV, but there was little to nothing she or Nick could do no matter how they wanted to stay to ensure Leo was completely out of the woods.

By the time they made their way through the secluded hospital and to the row of undeniably gorgeous jet-black SUV’s that stood out glaringly amongst the modest city they were nestled in, Ward was already sat in one, back in his dirty, frayed clothing. The grimace that bowed his returning mustache better suited him than the relaxed nature Nick had walked in on when he was still stretched across a gurney.

“I bet this didn’t raise any questions crossing the border,” Callie said below her breath as Nick opened the door to a separate car; he felt cramming in with Daryl would only prolong the suffering on everyone's end.

“At least we’re riding in comfort. I’m guessing it’s gonna be a long drive.” Nick mentioned after finding his seat beside her.

Thankfully they’d chosen the SUV Kandomere wouldn’t be riding shotgun in, but even if they had, Nick was sure he would’ve excused himself to a different car rather than be stuck with the Orc and his knocked up human. He could care less; it meant not having to worry about remaining uptight instead of comfortably leaning against Callie just as she did against him.

The line of black vehicles turned heads of people making their way through the streets as the last of the sunset filtered through the stacked homes and sparse businesses, the quaint city shrinking behind them. This could have been one of the small spots they’d find themselves in during one of their spontaneous visits, soaking in the sun and filling up on local food. Neither of them knew if they’d ever be able to return to their favorite vacation spot after the events that had unfolded, but both would agree they didn’t want to be venturing far once home, at least for a while.

But to get back home? It was a lot more than just a lengthy ride.

On top of the erratic and reckless manner of driving that left them thrown around in the back seats, the side to side started a particularly ruthless bout of motion sickness that Nick’s harsh beratement to the driver did little to stop, at least until Callie threatened to crawl between the seats and unload it in his lap.

There was also just getting comfortable in the stiff seats for those hours; trying to squeeze in a few naps to help the time go by since staring out the window was only so exciting with no music and little conversation in between. Their bathroom breaks were rushed, the time to select food for the remainder of the ride even shorter.

Even Kandomere looked ready to explode by the time they finally made it into LA, driving through familiar streets and finally starting to feel like the past few days could be put behind them, but they only veered away past the route that would have landed them home. Soon, they were before a series of structures Callie had always assumed were doctors offices for separate specialties- Nick also, his jaw was hung a little once the realization hit- but as they turned into the empty parking lot and pulled below the buildings to stop in the ill-lit underground garage, it was apparent from the guards stood by the elevators and levels of security to get past that MTF headquarters had been close to home all this time.

“Miss Flores, if you’d follow me,” Montehugh met them at their final entry through a door that only opened through keycard verification; surely Kandomere had notified him about their arrival.

Her timid glance up at him almost drove Nick to fight for their way out of there; they’d gone through so fucking much, he just wanted to take her home, but he knew getting this over with was the best way, even if it meant separating from her for hours unknown.

“I’ll see you soon.” He squeezed the back of her neck, refusing to look away until she nodded, even if it was weak. A few firm kisses helped lift her spirits a little more before she followed Montehugh back into a separate interview room, repeating Nick’s words in her head: just tell the truth.

And that’s exactly what they did- all three of them.

It started with the night Tikka ambushed Sergey, which led them back to Callie being cornered by Makhel; the second individual who’d been aiding to the destruction around LA, sending their trackers and alerts off frequently yet unable to hone in on what caused them. The same night they had tried phoning Kandomere over Tikka being just outside, he’d already been on his way to the diversion Makhel had caused thinking it was Tikka; both of them had had MTF running around like headless chickens.

Upon learning about just how maniacally powerful Makhel was, coupled with the disaster he left behind, it was clear none of them stood much of a chance on their own, which is why she sought out Ward. Maybe MTF would have been able to prevent it all if they’d made it in time, but he was such a dangerously erratic individual that surely it wouldn’t have been one simple take down. Surely some, or even multiple officials would have lost their lives just like the innocent bystanders he’d been claiming along his warpath.

While it was true that Makhel had been successful in murdering hundreds of Brights, all three of them disputed the level of involvement Rania had with it.

Kandomere insisted vehemently that she was just as responsible, but Nick fought back, detailing her sacrifice to spare Ward, expose Tikka- even offering some of her final moments to rekindle Callie and Leo before ultimately letting Makhel deal the last blow if it meant saving all of them with the exception of Fero. If it hadn’t been for her, even as she fought past her own demise, surely Callie wouldn’t be sitting in a room just down the hall. Ward likely would be dead, maybe Nick- definitely Tikka, even though they had no idea where they had left her in that deserted town.

Nick was certain Kandomere’s stance on Rania was umovable once it was revealed she was an Orc hybrid; his view on anything Orc was hideously skewed, so why would he think a half-Orc was capable of anything good?

Nick’s battling turned Kandomere hostile. Never had he seen such an outburst; a thrown chair and papers swept off the tables surface, his usually pale skin darkening into a furious flush as he hollered at the officer, but he stuck to his guns even as the elf berated him with accusations of a cover-up. All of their first hand accounts correlated flawlessly, but that still didn’t calm Kandomere’s bitterness, but Nick couldn’t blame him entirely. He’d spent the better part of his adult life hunting down Tikka’s bloodline and anyone Inferni, so to think that anyone involved with her could even possibly be innocent just wasn’t plausible.

When Tikka’s defective and deceptive plan was explained, it was like being handed the pieces of the trail MTF couldn’t complete.

They finally knew why she’d ventured back to LA so suddenly, but without her in custody, all of their efforts to find the three taken against their will and the repeated interrogations was ultimately useless.

Daryl and Nick were surprised the interrogations ended so quickly, but without the one person they intended on apprehending, and without either wand, they were shipped off to Medical. If MTF was cold before, they were glacial now.

It seemed they’d expected more out of them, even as victims of a kidnapping and near murder, and now they were useless to them once again.

Nick could care less when Kandomere ordered him out, the crook of his palm cupping his forehead as the beginnings of a sharp headache creeped under his skull. It made Nick wonder who the Elf reported to; who he faced with the grim news, but that thought was quickly pushed aside as he was taken to the separate facility that was a clear stretch across the underground structure, then up again, leading him to the same barren medical floor he’d stayed briefly in after their first encounter with the wand.

A long sigh of relief dropped his tense shoulders when he spotted Callie after scanning the wide floor quickly, her blood being drawn and pressure and oxygen being monitored with the other arm.

He flashed her a reassuring grin when she spotted him, her head perking up immediately, but he still had to go through the drills.

The stripping, disinfecting, examining for any remnants of the wand across their skin. Stitches were undone and redone, wounds again cleaned and bandaged; x-rays, ultrasounds, geiger counters- all of it. He was sore all over again by the time he’d been scrubbed raw and sent to a bed barefoot in stif scrubs, but he took hold of his own IV pole to first maneuver before Callie who’d finally been able to lay back after a much more extensive and invasive examination. She’d been physically exposed to magic, but even with all the tests done there was no knowing if it would effect with Leo or herself down the line.

He wrapped her in a bone crushing hug, scrunching his nose past the strong stench of disinfectant wash in her hair and skin. “We’re almost done,” he mumbled into her hair, feeling her nod under his chin.

“Okay.” She exhaled, unwillingly unwinding from him when he moved to his own bed to be connected to his own monitors and have his own blood drawn.

There was another long wait after they were finally left in peace to rest in their beds as the night ended and another soft LA sunrise started to creep through the massive windows lining the space they were in. Likely the higher ups were deciding what to do with them- compiling their accounts and their credibility. Neither Ward or Nick knew what could happen if it was decided they were lying, but Nick wouldn’t voice that to Callie. He believed she could make it home even if it was decided he wouldn’t; Callie had been roped in against her will. There was no reason for her to even still be there when it came down to it.

He watched her drifting in and out of sleep, her eyes meeting his in between the heavy blinks. The thin sheets did little to keep her warm in the cool room, he could tell. She was curled tight around her stomach, her arm hung over the edge of the bed.

Even if he stretched he couldn’t reach her, and it started to weaken his patience.

It was impossible not to count the minutes dragging by when all he had to do was watch the sun move higher into the sky, sometimes rolling over to ask how Ward was doing, but there was only stiff head shakes and a stiffer purse of his lips, his eyes trailing the armed and suited officials standing at each end of their beds.

After a while he started to drift, the dull stinging from the reopened wounds across him and bruises dulling enough to allow his mind to slip into a quiet place, but he was worried if he let himself wander there, he’d wake up to find himself alone.

There was brief times he let his eyes rest, only to jitter awake and realize he’d been out longer then he meant when the sun was in a different location in the sky, and although he told himself to remain vigilant, it happened again and again. The fourth time it happened, the sun was setting, but by then, he was too tired to care. Nick could barely find the energy to keep his eyes blinking rapidly enough to look over at Callie who had tossed and thrown her sheets around, finally settled into a deep sleep.

At least she’s sleeping, he thought to himself before eyeing the guard at his bed who had taken a look at her longer than Nick cared for.

His brows arched weakly, a low growl rolling off of him loud enough to bring the guards attention to the Orc who then chuffed, asserting his claim over his mate. Even if he only received an eyeroll in return, he made his stance known.

Nick exhaled. To a fucking human- real effective, dumbass.

He adjusted his head, fighting a yawn in his throat until it erupted.

If he could stay awake, just a little longer…

“Jakoby.”

Nick sprang up, the film over his eyes only adding to the confusion when he looked about and for a dragging second, didn’t recognize the room he was in until he found Callie sitting up in the gurney beside his. In a few short strokes of time, he was reacclimated, and now staring at Kandomere who was before the three of them, his hair tied back and fatigue hanging under his eyes.

“Sleep well?” Kandomere’s thick voice carried through the open floor, but Nick’s chuff carried farther.

“Okay we’re all up, let’s get this shit going so we can get the fuck outta here,” Daryl interjected before Nick and Kandomere started one of their typical squabbles.

“As you know we’ve been going over the details of your kidnapping to determine whether or not you had any willing involvement in what transpired, and we’ve been in contact with a team left behind in Balderrama to authenticate your claims-”

“Lemme guess, Tikka wasn’t there?” Ward already knew without asking, but Kandomere’s stiff nod verified it. Not surprised.

“We did not find her or the wands,” he exhaled sharply, “but we did find the bodies of the three you detailed,”he paused to open the folder he’d been holding, turning a few pages. “Makhel Portela, Rania Almeida and Fero Dragavei who in fact used to operate under Florida’s MTF branch,” he laid out photos along Daryl’s bed as he explained, their mutilated bodies frozen in time forever.

“She left Fero there?” Nick asked, grabbing the photos when handed to him.

“What good does carrying around a body do?” Callie asked, who had risen from her bed creakily to come sit by Nick, and look down at Rania’s photo dismally. She’d been scooped clean of every fiber of life, leaving her a discolored husk. “What’ll happen to their bodies?”

“Dragavei signed a proper disposal of remains contract when he first signed up, so he’ll be sent back to Florida and likely cremated to prevent distribution of his organs. The Orc will be autopsied and studied, and the hybrid will be held until we can locate any family or next of kin,” Kandomere explained, gathering the photos again.

“Distribution of his organs? Like on the black market?” Nick asked, somewhat perplexed.

“Bright remains are worth millions but otherwise useless,”

Callie held up Rani’s photo. “Can you go through the school they were at?”

“The school was destroyed after most of Shield of Light was killed off,”

“Her dad’s name is Tannatar, she told me,”

Kandomere nodded. “I’ll pass it on,”

It didn’t help much, but Callie hoped it would help reunite Rania with her family, even if what they would come to see was dismal.

“And us? You gonna send us out in body bags too?” Ward snapped; if he was destined to a bullet in the head or the rest of his years in a dingy underground cell, he wanted to get on with it already.

For once Kandomere chuckled. “No,” he cleared his throat, composing himself before facing Nick and Callie.

“On the night of March 14th, a dome of light hovering over downtown LA for approximately two and a half minutes was reported but found to be only an explosion from one of the businesses connected to a chain mall. You two happened to be shopping in that center at the time of the explosion, and tonight,” he glanced at his impressive pocket watch. “In twenty three minutes, you’ll be discharged and return home for two weeks of rest and rehabilitation. Your place of employment has already been notified,” he acknowledged Callie when her hand started to raise in concern, but it landed back in her lap.

“You were called to the scene of that same explosion when it was announced that terrorists could have been the direct cause, subsequently leading to exposure of an unknown gas leaking from the site. You were held in quarantine for three days and were discharged two hours ago but had to visit the precinct to retrieve your personal effects,” he then relayed to Ward, passing out their mock medical documents.

They all stared vacantly at Kandomere although listening intently, and although it seemed far fetched to blame their disappearances on a mock explosion, it smoothed over better than being hijacked by a Bright and hunted down by another.

“And I need not remind you all that you were exposed to raw magic and the wand for extended periods of time. You’ve all been cleared but stay vigilant for side effects of plasma poisoning, especially you,” he pointed to Callie. “We still don’t know how magic affects the body long term. I advise you to see your doctor soon,”

“I assume we still have a mountain of paperwork to sign?” Nick asked.

“Refusal will land you in a hole for the rest of your life,” Kandomere replied coolly.

Whereas the men had expected it, Callie hadn’t, and his cavalier manner about the entire cover-up rattled her nerves.

“Will we go back to the weekly interviews?” Nick asked, his tone dissatisfied.

“No. It obviously couldn’t keep you two out of trouble, but until Tikka is apprehended, you all will have a tail on you for your own safety,”

“Will they stay there or run off when there’s another explosion?” Ward mouthed off without a reply from Kandomere as he glided off towards a table with paperwork covering its surface.

“Do you think anyone even noticed we were gone?” Callie mumbled, but Nick shook his head.

“It was only two days we were gone,” he whispered back.

“Feels like weeks though.”

The clearing of a throat brought them back to Kandomere, the papers in order and three pens in hand as he waited.

The trio sighed, their impatience growing by the second.

More car rides that seemed to drag on longer than the interrogations.

Daryl had left in separate transport, voicing to Nick that if he should not show up to work by the time their leave was over with, it was Sherri who likely murdered him.

Slipping back into the crusty, rancid clothing only aided her anxiousness watching every street light turn red upon their arrival to the next intersection. Knowing exactly where she was now meant she knew exactly how long it took to get home, and she also knew that the ride from the unlabeled building was a stretch across town. Nick was silent beside her while often pulling her back by the shoulders in hopes she’d relax at least a little.

She’d stay settled for half a minute at most, resorting to leaning over her round stomach to take note of the landmarks zooming by them.

Nick finally kept an arm locked around her shoulders, his grip unyielding one of the times she tried to tug her way upright.

To say he was calm though would be a lie; he was just better at hiding his anxiousness, but watching Callie fidget around started to making his knee bounce.

When the SUV turned onto their street, they were already gathering their items, the door swinging open before the car could come to a complete stop. There were no goodbyes or even curt nods in thanks- only the swift slam of the door once they’d stepped onto the sidewalk, and it was off.

The neighborhood was quiet, as it always was this time of night, only the soft spraying of sprinklers from an adjacent lawn. Even the air in LA smelled homey; taco shops and smog, who would’ve thought Nick could appreciate something like that.

“Would it make sense if I said the sidewalk felt nice?” Nick smiled, but glancing over found her slumped shoulders and fatigue seemingly having increased tenfold. “What’s wrong?”

She rubbed her eyes while croaking, “Pucca’s in there,”

The joy upon arriving home was kicked clear off. He ran his hand across the top of his head with a deep groan. In the midst of the marathons of interrogations and exams and contracts, it had admittedly slipped right through the cracks of his mind. Three days later, he knew they’d be dealing with quite a morbid scene and the heartache they’d left behind as they ran.

“I’ll go in first,” he offered, but she shook her head, blinking away the start of tears.

“No I wanna go in too,” she took a steadying breath, clearing the crack in her voice when the constricting of repressed sobs tightened her throat. “She’s my baby too. I want to help.”

Surely she was wary, but her hardened brows and stiff frown showed determination through the exhaustion.

He slipped his palm into hers, leading her up the dewy lawn to the broken door closed only enough to make passing eyes think it still had a doorknob and deadbolt. Nick pushed the door open, flipping on the light and following Callie in.

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i did my best on that fight scene but if it's bad, forgive me! those kind of scenes are ffffffffucking hard to write 🖤 AND YAY TIME TO START GETTING BACK TO CUTE FLUFFY STUFF CUZ MAKHEL IS DONE.

thank you for all who continue to stick around while the updates are not staggered! i appreciate each and every one of you!!! if anyone has any questions about the characters (because i know i've been kind of vague about the details and backgrounds) please feel free to drop an ask! and as always, feedback is appreciated!

Translations: +Agh thaav'uk killaumn mausan fuckaumn hundur: that's for killing my fucking dog.

[darylwillfightnatureforcarol]

Back To The Past Chapter 7

Description: Future Daryl finally comes face to face with his past self. 

Back To The Past

It took him a long time to fall asleep that night. For one thing he was still hungry.

Shane’s interruption had also interrupted his chance at dinner. The former deputy had only been merciful enough to allow him to relieve himself on occasion. Always at gun point.

For another thing, his wrists burned, and his back was cramped as hell.

Eventually, he did manage to drift off.

Daryl snapped awake with a gasp. His breath coming heavy and his chest burning. He closed his eyes and pressed his head back against the tree. He couldn’t remember what he had been dreaming but it was not anything good. He tried taking in slow, deep breaths.

It was something the book he had picked up in Atlanta encouraged. It was helpful for PTSD apparently, and they seemed to be onto something. Whenever Daryl had dreams like that, he used the technique, which helped him get himself back under control.

He heard voices then. They sounded panicked. Off all things, he also heard a car alarm.

He frowned trying to clear his mind of the fog his nightmare had left over him. Car alarm. Why was that familiar?

It clicked in his mind then.

Glenn.

He had heard about Glenn’s ride back from Atlanta in the flashy, red sports car.

He allowed a smile as he remembered Glenn explaining it with a wistful expression, mourning the loss of the car. It had gotten dismantled for parts.

His smile dropped quickly though as thoughts of Glenn recalled his death. It was always what happened when he thought about Glenn. He could never make it too far through the good times before he was back in the clearing with Negan.

But now, Glenn was alive. Another person Daryl had a chance to save. Glenn would get to see his future son grow up.

Daryl focussed his attention to the source of the commotion. Luckily, he wasn’t tied up too far from the main area of camp.

The alarm was cut off soon and the voices became clearer.

He heard people greeting the returnees. Amy eagerly meeting her sister.

He listened to the idle chatter before he heard Carl’s excited scream of “Dad.”

Daryl heart stuttered as he realised that Rick must have made his presence known. He felt himself getting choked up, thinking back to the last time he saw his best friend and brother. Across the water, on a bridge, that quickly became a ruin of smoke and flames.

Another life to save.

His reminiscing was cut short by a wince, as he heard his own arrival on the scene.

He listened to his past self complain about the loss of the deer he had been tracking. Understandable really, but he supposed he could have been a bit more tactful.

Then he listened as he called for Merle.

He cringed as he listened to the showdown between himself and Rick. Thinking back, he couldn’t believe that he had thrown his squirrels at him.

He heard Shane address his past self. Heard him ask him to follow him.

Well, this was gonna be interesting.

(From here on Daryl from the future will be referred to as Daryl)

--

Daryl waited, (not that he had much choice), as the footsteps grew closer. He was not looking forward to this conversation.

He knew his past self was not going to believe any of this. Daryl didn’t blame him. He wouldn’t if someone else had said it to him. Hell, he hadn’t, the day when Eugene had revealed his creation.

“This is some damn bullshit,” he heard himself mutter as they neared.

Shane led the way over. He watched his younger self squint as he looked at him against the tree. Shane crossed his arms.

“Well, tell him,” Shane urged him. He could tell the deputy was still sceptical himself.

Daryl sighed.

“I’m you, from the future.”

He didn’t bother beating around the bush about it. He wasn’t going to believe him either way.

His younger self stared at him for a long while before scoffing.

“What?” he said, looking annoyed.

“He says he’s you from the future. I figure you’d be the only one who could confirm that,” Shane took over explaining.

Younger Daryl gave him a glare.

“Confirm what? That this guy’s fucking crazy?”

Shane looked between them before he shifted.

“Hang on. I know it sounds like bullshit but there’s something going on. Look closer at him man. There’s certainly a resemblance there,” Shane said.

Younger Daryl gave him another look of annoyance before looking back at his future self. He cocked his head to the side. He moved closer and his eyes searched over his face.

Daryl watched as his past self’s eyes grew wider. He looked surprised and confused.

“I always thought I might have other siblings out there but…” his younger self breathed, still looking shocked.

Daryl huffed and shook his head.

“I ain’t your brother. I’m you.”

“Bullshit,” his younger self bit out with a glare, “Time travel ain’t possible.”

“That’s what I thought too, before it was,” he glared back at himself.

No wonder people got fed up with him in the beginning. He was a pain in the ass.

“Why don’t you explain how this happened? That’s what I want to hear,” Shane cut in, looking intrigued. “If you’re from the future, I wanna know how you got here.”

“Why bother? You ain’t gonna believe me anyway,” he spat, getting tired of the interrogation.

“Humour me,” Shane encouraged with a sarcastic smirk.

Daryl shook his head but figured, why not?

“I’m from close to ten years in the future. There’s this guy we met on the road. He’s a pain in the ass, but super smart,” he started to explain.

Shane and Daryl watched him carefully. His younger self still held a glare on his face. Not surprising considering that had been his default expression back then.

“We had this incident. A satellite crashed from space. He took pieces from it, and worked on a damned time machine in secret,” Daryl said, still not believing the absurdity of it. Of course, only Eugene would think to even build such a thing in the world they lived in.

“There was… An accident a couple of weeks ago. People died,” Daryl spoke carefully, trying to keep the pictures his words conjured from his head. It didn’t matter that he had prevented it. He’d still watched it happen.

Shane and his younger self continued to watch him silently, with interest and distrust respectively.

“So, Eugene comes to me one day, out of the blue and asks me to go back in time to try to stop the accident,” Daryl finished, knowing it sounded far too simple.

Shane frowned.

“I thought you said this accident was weeks ago. From what you’ve told us, this is years ago for you.”

Daryl nodded. He would need to choose his words carefully next.

“It is. The original plan was to send me back those few weeks, but I couldn’t stop thinking, ‘what if I could stop other things from happening?’ So, I asked him to send me back to the start. We didn’t know if it would work, but I needed to try.”

It was a little tweak of the truth.

Shane and his younger self were quiet for a while. They both looked deep in thought.

“So, you came back to help us?” Shane broke the silence, looking dubious.

It was close enough to the truth. While Carol and Sophia were his main priority, he certainly hoped to try to save the others too.

“That’s right,” he confirmed with a nod.

Shane still looked a little sceptic, but it was less pronounced than it originally was. He was starting to believe him, at least a bit, Daryl realised.

His younger self, on the other hand…

“What a load of crap!” he spat as he continued to glare at himself. His younger self chanced a look at Shane. “You can’t really believe this shit?”

Shane looked at him, where he still sat tied to the tree. There was uncertainty in his eyes.

“I don’t know, man. It’s almost crazy enough that it’s gotta be true. I mean, why would someone make this up?”

“Because he’s fucking nuts, that’s why!”

Daryl watched them argue, blocking out their voices.

He knew it wasn’t going to be easy to convince them. His younger self had such a chip on his shoulder that he wouldn’t even entertain the possibility. He just needed to think of something that would demonstrate that he couldn’t possibly be lying.

Shane moved closer to him, and despite his protests, grabbed his hand. He held it out towards his younger self.

“Look man, same tattoo,” Shane proclaimed as he tilted Daryl’s hand, presenting the star between his thumb and forefinger.

Daryl looked down at his own hand with a frown. He shook his head.

“Nah, look at his other hand. I don’t got that!” his past self argued with a wild look in his eyes. It was like he was desperate to prove this was not true.

Shane picked up his other hand and examined the skull tattoo with the smaller x’s on his knuckles. He looked at him with a question in his eyes.

There was a tattoo artist that they had found outside the walls and along his travels, he had managed to pick himself up a kit of supplies. He had set himself up at Hilltop to offer his services. Regardless of the day to day struggles they faced, people still wanted tattoos apparently. Most people used it to remember a loved one that they had lost.

Daryl’s new tattoos had been designed by Judith.

She had drawn him little designs for a whole week before she declared this was the one. She explained that the skull was badass, like him, and the crosses represented the family that shared a home together, a cross for each person. One for Michonne, One for Judith, One for RJ, and One for Carol.  He’d never planned on getting anymore ink but he decided, fuck it, why not?

“I got them later,” he finally said.

Shane and Daryl frowned and shared a look.

“You met a tattoo artist later. In this world?” Shane asked with doubt.

“Yeah,” Daryl answered simply with a shrug of his shoulders. Then he figured he should elaborate, “Things are different later. The world’s different.”

“Different how?” Shane questioned, while Daryl chewed his lip, still watching himself distrustfully.

“Jus’ different. It’s a long story and I don’t know enough ‘bout time travel to know if telling you any of this is gonna fuck with things,” he explained.

It was true.

He had no idea what revealing any information could do to things. Him even being here, face to face with himself could be screwing everything up for all he knew.

Shane considered that before conceding a nod.

“You gotta give us something though. We can’t just take your word for it, man,” Shane begged with less of the cocky tone he had been sporting.

Daryl thought for a moment.

“Your partner. His name’s Rick. He got shot before all this went down and he was in a coma. You tried to get him out of the hospital, but you left him there.”

Shane’s eyes were wide, and he was looking at Daryl with shock. There were even a few tears in his eyes.

Daryl found it hard to reconcile this image of the man with the one he had last seen. Plotting against Rick and trying to kill him.

Could he end up saving Shane too?

Lori was still around, so he doubted it.

“How do you know that?” Shane breathed, and rubbed a hand over his head.

“Because he told me. Years later he told me how you explained to him what went down.”

Shane looked like he’d been knocked down a peg or two.

“All this shit still ain’t proved nothin’ ‘bout how you’re me,” his younger self interrupted with a glare. “You don’t even act like me or talk like me.”

“Well…” Shane trailed off with a look between them.

Daryl shot him a look.

“I changed. Met a lot of people who helped me be better. Believe it or not, but Rick Grimes is one of them,” Daryl revealed with misty eyes.

He never stopped missing him. Even through the disagreements they had in the lead up to his death, he never stopped loving Rick.

Younger Daryl didn’t look like he believed that for a second.

Daryl huffed. They were going in circles. They could be here for hours and they were never going to believe.

“Fuck this, I’m going to get my brother,” his younger self spat as he turned to start marching off.

His heart skipped a beat as an idea came to him.

He hated this idea. It went against every part of him and he warred with himself about it.

“Wait!” he called out, making his past self pause.

Daryl swallowed heavily and addressed Shane this time.

“Untie me. I can prove it,” he choked out, feeling his skin prickling with anticipation.

He didn’t want to do this.

But he had no choice. It was the only way his younger self would believe him.

Shane hesitated a moment before, after a careful examination of Daryl’s demeanour, he approached the tree and set to work undoing the knots.

His younger self had turned to face him once more and was watching and waiting for the proof that Daryl proclaimed to have.

When the ropes fell to the ground, Shane watched him warily as if waiting for him to make a move.

Daryl stood on shaky legs. The circulation had begun to get cut off from being in the cramped, uncomfortable pose for so long.

He stood before Shane and Daryl for a moment, dragging it out. He sighed, he just had to do it. Rip off the band-aid.

“Sorry,” he muttered, meeting his past self’s gaze before he brought his hands up and unbuttoned his vest, before tossing it aside.

He then set to work on his long-sleeved shirt, his fingers trembling. He let the shirt fall open and then, not letting himself think too much about it, he pushed it off his arms, letting it fall to the ground. He sucked in a deep breath before turning to present his back to them.

“Jesus,” he heard Shane whisper.

Daryl kept his head down, trying to keep his breathing steady. Every part of him wanted to run. To grab up his shirt and cover himself.

He heard soft footsteps and knew they couldn’t be Shane’s. He walked like Rick. Too loud.

He stood with his back turned, letting them both get their fill of his mangled back. He knew his younger self wouldn’t be able to argue further now.

The memories were on display right in front of him.

He felt something soft brush his arm from behind and he looked down. It was his shirt.

He turned and came face to face with himself. There was a haunted look in his younger eyes and the rage that had been present only moments ago was gone.

Daryl held out the shirt towards him.

He took it with shaking hands. He wasted no time in shoving his arms through the sleeves and buttoning it up with speed.

“He’s me,” Daryl breathed.

[crossbows-and-moonshine]

Let The Flames Begin (Chapter 30)

Important flashback from Merles POV in this one and some fluff. Lots of floooof.

-----------------------------------

When had making out ever been this fucking good? Daryl couldn't remember the last time he actually enjoyed kissing a woman. Usually, he wouldn't kiss them at all, it felt weirdly too intimate so he avoided it. But this, this shit was heaven and he couldn't get enough. Despite the fact that their first-ever kiss was initiated by him, all the others had been the girls doing. He had only initiated that one out of desperation to keep her there and not being able to find the words to tell her. But now, every time she kissed him, it gave him the confidence and once she had initiated it, it was like he felt like he had permission to keep kissing her however he wanted. It was the day after Charlene's big speech, the one that managed to convince him to ignore the voice in his head and just go along with whatever this was. Nothing had changed much when they were around the group, but now they were making out like a couple of teenagers. They had gone to bed an hour ago, but then she kissed him. Now he was on top of her, kissing her breathless as he greedily claimed her mouth. She kept letting out these sweet little moans that were music to his fucking ears. Kissing her was his new favourite thing to do. He was hard as a rock, straining against his jeans and he tried to ignore it. He knew she would be able to feel it but she hadn't acted repulsed so that was a good thing.

He needed air, his lungs burning, so he moved his lips off hers, kissing down her jaw and to her neck. He still hadn't grown the balls to ask her to be his properly. So he decided to do the next best thing. He had seen how that prick Shane had been looking at her all day. Daryl didn't know what his deal was. First off, everyone thought they were together anyway so the asshole shouldn't even be looking her way. But Daryl also knew he was fucking Lori. He had stumbled on them more than a few times when he was out hunting, bare asses hanging out acting like a pair of fucking animals. He felt the need to stake his claim on her further but he was too much of a pussy to ask her outright. And even if he did, he knew it wouldn't stop Shane looking. Neither would what he was about to do but he knew the next time the asshole looked, it would make him think of him.

He latched onto her neck, sucking on it and marking her up real good. He loved how she gasped, squirming under him. He groaned low in his throat at the feeling of her arching up against his dick. He moved away, smirking feeling pleased with himself at the large hickey he had given her. He looked at her as her eyes fluttered open. Her lips were swollen from his bruising kisses and she looked almost dazed.

“Mmm, no one's ever done that to me before,” she grinned, all pink cheeks and bright eyes. Daryl's smirk widened as he leant down, ghosting his lips against hers. His overwhelming horniness making him confident with her.

“Is that right?” he drawled against her lips, making her eyes flutter shut again as she nodded. It pleased him greatly that he was the first guy to mark her up. He knew she was no virgin. Fucking Anna and her mouth that never stopped. He had been there a few times when she went on about Charlene hooking up with someone at a party. It had always filled him with murderous jealousy and rage. And now he was fucking kissing her and having her rub all over his dick like a horny little thing. He felt somewhat smug.

She leaned up to kiss him but he moved away with a wicked smirk, watching as she opened her eyes and pouted at him. He was loving this, having her seem so needy for him. He needed the fucking ego boost. He kissed down the other side of her jaw, down her neck and giving it the same treatment. He wanted to mark her up everywhere if he could. She was his and his alone. She moaned softly, the noise going straight to his dick as he pulled away, looking down at her again. She had clearly lost her patience as she grabbed the back of his neck, crashing his lips down to hers. He kissed her hungrily, all tongues and teeth as he just lost himself in her. He never wanted to leave the damn tent again.

Suddenly the tent unzipped and Daryl sat up quickly, head whipping around and coming face to face with his brother. His cheeks were flaming and he clenched his jaw.

“What?” he asked roughly, hating that they had been interrupted. He moved away from her and she sat up blushing a little as Merle came inside with a frown.

“Ya got the first aid kit in ya bag?” he asked. Daryl blinked at him warily.

“Yeah...why?” he asked. Part of him was internally panicking thinking he may have been bit. But he knew his brother well enough that if he had been, he would no doubt put a bullet in his head and not come here.

“Cut myself makin’ a damn snare,” he huffed grumpily. Daryl glanced down to see the cut on his hand. Charlene furrowed her brow as she grabbed Daryl's pack, getting the first aid kit out. She sat next to Merle and got to work fixing up his hand. It was late but Daryl wasn’t surprised his brother was awake and trying to keep himself busy. He had been using less once again since the girl came back and Daryl was proud of him. He wasn't sure what it was about the girl that had his brother wanting to be a better man. Had him lessening his drug usage. No one else had ever been able to do that before.

After their talk the day before, when they returned back to camp, Merle had been gleeful at seeing them together. Daryl had no idea why his brother was so happy about it. Merle had been wanting in her pants for fucking years and now he was over the moon that Daryl was with her or whatever the fuck this was. Every time he thought about it, it only confused him. Merle had never teased him once about liking her even though he had known near enough the whole time. That wasn't like his brother at all and he didn't really get what the fuck that was about. But he knew Merle was fucking weird, he wouldn't ever fully understand his brother and why he did the shit he did. Merle watched her carefully as she wrapped up his hand and he gave her a weary smile. He was glad she had managed to talk some sense into his brother. Daryl seemed lighter today when he was around camp and Merle liked it. He knew this girl was good for his brother, he had known all along. It was why he did what he did all the time back then, hoping he would push them both together.

~

Merle sat at the table in the diner, his brother scowling bloody murder next to him as usual. He knew his brother hated it when he came with him here, but it didn't mean he was about to stop. He had a plan after all. He saw the girl chatting to her co-worker, a bright smile on her face. She was pretty, he’d never be able to deny that. But she was far too innocent for him. The preacher's daughter was sweet and he liked his ladies a little rough around the edges. He wouldn't lie, if Daryl didn't have the hots for the little thing he would have tried his luck with her. But he knew she'd never go for it anyway. Daryl did have the hots for her though. Fucking bad. Merle had never seen his brother like this with anyone. Daryl thought he was hiding it well but Merle wasn't fucking stupid. He would see the way his brother looked at her. How he tensed whenever they were over at Billy's and his loud-mouthed sister would talk about her. Daryl would always make excuses to go to the store when Merle knew they didn't need a fucking thing. Daryl wanted her, bad. And Merle being the good big brother he was, well he was trying to make it happen.

“Hey guys, you want the usual?” Charlene smiled brightly at them as she approached their table.

“Always sugartits. Ya thought any more about Ol’ Merle's offer?” he grinned lasciviously at her. He saw how she tensed a little and he felt bad at making her so uncomfortable. But he knew his brother could have quite the jealous streak and that was the exact reason why he was doing this.

“For fuck sake Merle, leave her be,” Daryl huffed from opposite him, face like thunder as he glared at him. Merle smirked at him and shrugged innocently. Charlene cleared her throat, fake smile plastered all over her face as she looked at him.

“Answers still no Merle,” she said softly. She was insistent every time and he had to hand it to her, she always took it like a fucking champ.

“Aw c’mon now. I can make ya feel real good,” he cackled, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. He grunted when he felt a hard kick to his shin under the table and he quirked his brow at Daryl who was scowling at him. Charlene wrote on her little pad thingy, she knew them well enough to know their usual order without needing prompting. He wondered if his brother had something to do with that. Daryl wasn't the only one Merle had caught giving longing glances. She scurried off and Daryl shook his head, looking ready to throttle him.

“What?” he asked with a grin, making Daryl bristle in his seat.

“Why ya always gotta do this shit? She's a good girl, she don't need ya fuckin’ comin’ here and talkin’ this shit to her,” he huffed, leaning back and crossing his arms against his chest.

“Like ya haven't thought about it yaself. She's a pretty little thing brother. Bet all the men here are thinkin’ about it,” his smirk widened when he saw his brother's eyes narrow and darken. Daryl turned, looking around like he was assessing just how many men there were here and he clenched his jaw as he looked back at his brother. Merle knew Daryl wasn't happy with the idea he just put in his head but he was trying to light a damn fire up the boy's ass. He had been coming here for over a year now and the asshole still hadn't made a move.

“Just leave her the fuck alone,” Daryl growled with a glare.

“Or what?” Merle smirked smugly. Daryl sat up straighter, all tense and tightly wound. Merle hoped he would cave soon but his brother was nothing if not a stubborn pig-headed asshole. Merle let Daryl brood, stewing in his own jealousy until the girl came back out.

“Thanks sweetcheeks, we appreciate it as always,” Merle smiled charmingly at her. He noticed how Daryl clenched his fists when she gave him a sweet smile in response.

“No problem, just let me know if you need anything,” she said softly.

“What time ya get off tonight?” Merle asked her. She looked awkward as she toyed with the pad in her hands and Daryl shot him a look.

“Same as always Merle,” she snorted lightly, shaking her head before she walked away to serve other people.

“The fuck ya askin’ her what time she finishes?” Daryl spat at him. Merle was sure the vein in his neck was about to explode and he tried not to laugh.

“Was gonna offer her a ride home. Maybe she'd give me a ride in return,” he smirked. Daryl gripped his fork tightly and Merle wondered if he was about to stab him with it. He decided to calm it down a little for the night. Daryl wasn’t playing fucking ball, as usual. He’d just have to try again tomorrow.

~

When Merle's hand was wrapped up, Charlene gave him a smile and he nodded gratefully at her.

“There you go, all fixed. Just keep it clean. We don't need it getting infected. We don't have any antibiotics here,” she said as she moved away a little, sitting closer to Daryl. Daryl felt himself relax more the second she was by his side again.

“Alright, I’ll get outta ya hair. Thanks Tiny,” Merle muttered. Daryl looked at his brother, he felt a pang of something in his chest and he didn't know what to make of. He knew his brother acted like a lone wolf, but so did Daryl. And despite Daryl’s dislike of most people, he knew he also hated being lonely. His brother was having a hard time with him trying to cut down the drugs. He looked worn out and Daryl could see it all over him.

“Can stay if ya want. Swiped some cards from Glenn before. Could play a game or two,” Daryl suggested, chewing his thumb as he looked at him. It reminded him of being a young boy, begging Merle to play with him or take him hunting with him. Most of the time it was a solid no, but occassionaly when his big brother was in a good mood, he got a yes. He held onto those moments more than he would care to admit. Merle looked taken aback for a second.

“I don't think he wants to. I mean he’s not gonna like it when he loses to a girl at Black Jack,” Charlene smirked. Daryl's lips quirked up into a smile. It was like she was on the same page as him as she always was. Merle was competitive by nature and he knew she was using it to her advantage.

“Alright, prepare to get yer ass whooped little lady,” Merle snorted, relaxing where he sat. Daryl felt pleased he had given in, happy the girl had goaded him. Maybe a few games would loosen him up a little and maybe Merle would actually get some damn sleep tonight.

He reached for the pack of cards from his bag and Charlene took them, getting them out of the box and shuffling them.

“Don’t cry when I win,” she grinned mischievously, making Merle scoff and wave his hand dismissively.

“Think ya girl’s lost her damn mind brother,” Merle snorted.

“Already established that since she fuckin’ likes me,” he smirked, earning a punch to his chest as she glared playfully at him.

“No talking bad about yourself whilst I’m around,” she squinted as he rubbed his chest. She could pack a fucking punch for a tiny little human.

“Yes Ma’am,” he teased, a light laugh leaving his lips when she poked him. When he glanced to Merle, almost feeling embarrassed for acting this way with him there, he was surprised to see his brother grinning at them. He felt the tips of his ears burning as he glanced down, waiting for the girl to deal the cards. Its was nice spending time with his girl and brother like this. For a moment they could pretend the dead weren’t trying to make them dinner or how they were stuck in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of assholes.  As long as he had Merle and Charlene by his side, he knew it would all be alright in the end.

Taglist; @risingphoenix761 @daryldixonandfrogs @arlaina28 @divadinag @keeperofwonderlandus @jodiereedus22 @easnuppa @fand0m-fiend @txladyj-blog @walkingdead-dixon

[crossbowking]

The Road Ahead : Chapter 13

Chapter Index HERE

Summary : (Set in the beginning of season 1) Anna Brooks lost everything after the world ended — the last remaining part of herself being her older brother, who she lost contact with after communications dropped. While en route towards Atlanta to find him, Anna’s truck breaks down, leaving her at the mercy of the cruel new world. Now, Anna must face her fears head on as she struggles to deal with devastating loss, constant danger, and finding her way in a land that now belongs to the dead. But sometimes, a glimmer of hope can be found disguised as a short-tempered, hard-headed redneck who may just save her life in more ways than one.

Pairings : Daryl x Original Female Character

Warnings : Slow-Burn, Language/Violence/typical Walking Dead themes

Author’s Note : OKAY, Y’ALL. THIS CHAPPIE’S A LONG ONE SO STRAP IN. We learn a lot in this one and are making way for some awesome stuff coming soon...

xx crossbowking

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Previously…

Glenn and Anna shared an apprehensive look before scooting out from behind the table, Jacqui hurrying to join them from the back room. Anna crouched down, staring through the windshield at the massive building in front of them — the Center for Disease Control.

It was colossal and mighty and most importantly…still standing.

Maybe there was hope here after all.

But for some reason, Anna couldn’t shake the feeling in her gut that told her things were only going to get worse from here on out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Now…

The Center for Disease Control.

There had been a brief, heartbreaking moment where everyone feared the CDC had been abandoned — it’s main entrance sealed up tight with an impenetrable steel door, unbreakable windows, and not a single soul in sight besides the dead that roamed the grounds. But much to everyone’s surprise, after a desperate plea from Rick begging for whoever was controlling the cameras to show mercy, the steel door slid open and enveloped the group in a beacon of light.

And there they met Dr. Edwin Jenner.

He was apparently the last man standing. All of the doctors, all of the military, all of the scientists — gone. He was all that was left. And that was a tough fucking pill to swallow.

After seeing the state of the group, a group filled with children especially, Jenner had decided to go against his better judgment and allow the distressed group inside — the only rule being that everyone was to get a blood test done to ensure no one had been unknowingly infected.

Which led Anna to this moment, watching Jenner pierce the soft flesh of her skin with a needle, her blood slipping from her veins and filling up a small tube to be taken away for analysis.

She was tired — no, she was exhausted. She’d been running on empty for days now, physically and emotionally drained from everything she’d gone through. All Anna wanted to do was curl up somewhere and process what her next move would be since the CDC was apparently chopping up to be a dead end. And if this supposed ‘safe haven’ wasn’t what it was promised to be, could the same be said about Fort Benning?

“What’s this?” Jenner suddenly asked, his fingers wrapping around her bandaged hand.

Anna sat up straighter, turning her hand over for inspection. “Oh, uh, that’s nothing. I just cut my palm on a rock the other day,” she shrugged, watching as Jenner began to unwrap the wound.

“I cleaned it up already,” Lori spoke from where she sat, Rick propped up behind her, squeezing her shoulder gently, his expression deep in thought.

“Better safe than sorry, wouldn’t you agree?” Jenner directed his attention towards Anna, waiting until she gave him a short nod before continuing to unwrap the bandage. The cut didn’t look infected — just an angry red slash mark with dried blood caked onto the frayed ends of her skin. Anna watched as Jenner grabbed a cotton swab, dipping it in some sort of liquid before turning back to her. “Saline solution,” he murmured before she had a chance to ask what it was.

He began prodding at the wound, collecting a sample of the dried tissue for further examination, eliciting a quiet hiss from Anna as he pressed the swab a little too deep.

“All set,” he voiced once he was satisfied, slipping the cotton swab into a separate vile before reaching to grab a small first aid kit. He swiftly wrapped Anna’s hand in a clean bandage, removed the needle from her arm and motioned for Andrea to come forward for her turn.

Anna pulled down her sleeve, rubbing her sore arm as she stood, the floor tilting beneath her for a moment before she regained her balance. Black spots danced in her vision as she eased herself down onto another chair near the rest of the group, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

She had so many questions — what happened here? Where was everyone? What was this outbreak? Was there a cure? What did Jenner know? She had a weird feeling that the man was keeping some important information from them, but she was too tired and too overwhelmed to find the energy to ask. There would come a time for that — and the time sure as hell wasn’t now.

Anna nearly wept with relief when Jenner offered the group all the food they could stomach, ushering them into the CDC’s cafeteria for dinner. There was a nearly tangible electric buzz coursing through the group as they spread out amongst one of the long tables, waiting eagerly for the first decent meal they’d eat in weeks.

Anna took a seat at the far end of the table, putting a little distance between herself and most of the group. But the isolation didn’t last long when Glenn spotted her, furrowed his brow, got up from his seat at the opposite end and made his way towards her instead. “Do you think he’ll have Twinkies? Man, I hope he has Twinkies,” he grinned as he approached, rubbing his hands together, plopping down in the seat next to her.

Anna felt a small smile creep across her face — she liked Glenn. He seemed like a truly decent guy with an incredible warmth to him. He made her feel welcome — like she’d always been a part of the group and not some random newcomer. A soft laugh bubbled out of her. “Twinkies? Really?” she teased.

Glenn nodded his head quickly, scooting his chair closer to the table. “Are you kidding? Twinkies are the best. I practically lived off them in college,” he beamed, drumming his fingers along the table top as he eagerly scanned the cafeteria for Jenner’s reappearance.

Anna just shook her head as another laugh slipped through her lips. Glenn shot her a kind smile before he turned the other way to say something to T-Dog, giving Anna a moment to assess the current situation without distraction.

The group was splayed out around the table — most busy chatting with one another, everyone looking more relaxed than Anna had ever seen them. All except for Andrea, who sat quietly, hands folded in her lap, eyes glazed over as she stared off into space. She was thinking about her sister — Anna wasn’t a mind reader, but she also wasn’t stupid. The poor woman had just lost her sister — there was no possible way she could be thinking of anything else.

A sudden pain tugged at her heart and Anna forced her eyes away, unable to watch the grief crashing through Andrea’s eyes any longer. She found her gaze suddenly traveling towards Shane, who also wasn’t participating in conversation — he sat upright in his chair, elbows on the table, chin resting atop his clasped hands, eyes trained on Rick and his family. There was something about his stare, something about the sharpness in his eyes, the coldness, that sent a chill through Anna before she pulled her gaze away.

And then, Anna found herself studying the archer.

She hadn’t spoken to him since the RV broke down — hell, she hadn’t even looked at him. The last thing she needed was more drama and that was all this guy seemed to bring to the table. She wasn’t one to play games and she, quite frankly, didn’t give a shit whether he liked her or not. There was enough turmoil in the world without his projected issues added on top. She hadn’t meant to get involved with the group, she hadn’t meant to run into Merle that day on the road, but it happened. There was no going back. And Daryl could huff and puff, he could be cold and aloof, he could do whatever the hell he wanted — it wasn’t Anna’s problem.

But…as Anna stared at him, watching his usual scowled expression relax for the first time since she’d met him, the infectious positive energy clearly affecting him as well, she couldn’t help but feel a pinprick of hurt.

Why did he hate her so much? She didn’t understand. She hadn’t done anything to him — at least, she didn’t think so. What could’ve possibly happened to warrant all the hostility from him?

Anna’s thoughts were halted when the cafeteria doors swung open and Jenner appeared, hefting a large crate into the room. The group perked up, eyeing the crate hungrily as he approached, placing it down onto the table with a huff.

“Tomorrow is never guaranteed,” Jenner suddenly announced, his gaze sweeping across the faces of his new guests before he reached into the crate and pulled out two bottles of wine. “So tonight we feast.”

A collective murmur spread across the group as they nodded their heads, some clapping, others cheering in agreement. Anna felt a smile spread across her face as she glanced over at Glenn who proceeded to tip his worn baseball hat in Jenner’s direction.

And then they feasted.

Spaghetti and meatballs, rice, baked beans, string beans, canned corn, canned pears, peanut butter, olives, cheese, crackers, and all the bottled water and wine they could stomach. It was as if the entire world around them wasn’t what it was — there were no walkers, no decimated cities, no bleak future. It was just a group of people, enjoying a nice meal and delicious wine, partaking in pleasant conversation — it was a glimpse of how life was before.

Jenner urged everyone to eat their fill, given the fact that most of the food wouldn’t last much longer and would end up going to waste.

No one needed to be told twice.

Anna scarfed down the meal in front of her, reveling in the lukewarm spaghetti, the nearly expired cheese, the canned meatballs. It was the best damn meal she’d had in her entire life and by the practically giddy expressions around her, it was safe to say she wasn’t the only one thinking that. She ate until her stomach rounded, finally filling up her loose jeans, the seemingly permanent rumble in her tummy ceasing.

“Sure you don’t want a drink?” Glenn offered later on, holding out the now almost empty bottle of wine towards her, his words slurred and cheeks flushed from the alcohol he’d been consuming throughout the night.

Anna had declined earlier, choosing instead to stick with water, unsure when it’d be so readily available again. “I’m sure,” she reiterated her answer, sighing contently, leaning back in her chair as she scanned the rest of the table, the room buzzing with laughter, flowing with booze.

“— not you, Glenn,” Daryl’s gruff voice suddenly interjected, drawing Anna’s attention.

“What?” Glenn sounded, caught off guard as a lazy smile tugged at his lips.

“Keep drinkin’, lil’ man. I wanna see how red your face can get,” the archer jeered, pouring himself another heaping glass of wine. Anna had never seen Daryl so relaxed, so playful, so… normal. It was a weird moment to observe, especially from a sober point of view, but she found a bewildered smile slipping across her features.

Daryl must’ve felt eyes on him because his gaze swiveled over towards Anna, the grin on his face faltering as he took in her bemused expression. A moment passed between them before a sudden clinking had them turning their attention towards Rick, the room instantly quieting.

“It seems ta’ me we haven’t thanked our host properly,” he announced, pulling himself to his feet as he raised his glass.

“He is more than jus’ our host,” T-Dog added with an incredulous chuckle, following suit as he toasted Jenner who sat silently at a separate table.

A collective murmur of cheers and thanks sounded throughout the room as everyone began to show their gratitude and appreciation for the man who had saved them all. Anna tipped her bottle of water towards the man, studying his pensive features, wondering what he was thinking about that had him so solemn all of the sudden.

But before she could ponder any further, another voice rang throughout the room. “So, Anna,” Dale suddenly declared, her head snapping towards him. “Why don’t you tell us a little bit about yourself?”

Anna felt the room instantly shift around her, all eyes trained her way, waiting for her response. She slowly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, glancing over at Glenn for support, but he merely shrugged and took a long swig of wine straight from the bottle. “Uh,” she mumbled, feeling her cheeks redden at the sudden attention. “Not much to tell, really,” she brushed off, scanning the faces of those around her uneasily.

“Oh, come on,” Dale laughed good-naturedly, leaning forward to rest his forearms on the table, seeming genuinely intrigued. “There’s gotta be something worth sharing, right?” he looked around the table for agreement, some members of the group nodding in response, before Dale turned back to study her from under his bushy brows. “Why don’t you tell us where you’re from?” he offered, his kind eyes showing nothing but encouragement.

Anna clasped her hands tightly in her lap, digging her thumbnail into the bandage wrapped around her injured palm. “I’m, uh, I’m originally from up North,” she offered quietly, shrugging a shoulder.

“Was wonderin’ why I couldn’t hear an accent,” Rick quipped, smiling supportively in her direction. “So what brought ya down South?” he asked curiously, taking a sip of wine from his glass, staring at Anna from over the rim.

Anna felt her stomach flip and worried for a moment that her meal would reappear on the table in front of her. “My family had to relocate about ten years ago — moved down to Virginia. It was more affordable,” she explained, wringing her hands together in her lap as she addressed the sheriff, wondering if this was how he acted during interrogations.

“Did you go to college? Study anything in school?” Dale pressed, clearly intrigued.

Anna scoffed lightly, shaking her head. “I actually didn’t go to college. Couldn’t afford it.”

“Dale, enough with the twenty questions,” Andrea suddenly snapped, speaking for the first time since they sat down. She looked thoroughly annoyed, rolling her eyes at the old man as she gulped down the rest of her wine.

“What?” Dale laughed, holding his hands out innocently. “Just making friendly conversation, that’s all.”

“It’s fine,” Anna interjected quickly, not wanting to start any drama between the two. If Dale wanted answers, well then damn it, she’d give him some. “I just worked after high school mostly — waitressing, bartending, whatever I could do to make a little cash. My brother worked at an auto shop, so between the two of us, the bills got paid,” she shrugged, answering what was bound to be Dale’s next question.

He nodded thoughtfully, resting his chin atop his clasped hands. “And what did your parents do?”

Anna clenched her jaw, pushing away the inkling of frustration she was beginning to feel, Dale’s inquisition bringing up all of the negative feelings she’d been trying to ignore, all of the pain and grief she’d worked so hard to push away. ��My dad was an electrician. Lost his job a couple years back. My mom didn’t work. Spent most of her life in a hospital. We picked Virginia because there were doctor’s down here who could take care of her.”

The room stilled. Anna glanced around, the intensity of everyone’s gaze burning a hole into her flesh, so she trained her eyes down on her clasped hands instead. After a long moment of silence, Dale spoke once more. “Cancer?” he murmured.

Anna’s head jerked up, her gaze boring into his. “How —”

“My wife,” he cut her off before she could ask any further, leaning back in his chair with a heavy sigh. “My wife passed not too long ago from it. You’ve got that look in your eyes — I’ve got it, too. Devastating illness, I’ll say. Nothing you can do but sit and wait, watching the person you love just…just disappear,” he whispered that final word, looking as though he was reliving some kind of painful memory. Anna felt her eyes suddenly water and forced her gaze downward once more. “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he finished earnestly, waiting until Anna looked back up to give her a compassionate nod.

“She survived the cancer,” Anna finally muttered, clenching her jaw. “It was the bite that got her.”

The room quieted further, so much so that a pin could drop and Anna would hear it. Her face felt hot under the group’s stare and she hated the pity she could sense in their gazes. She knew Dale meant well, that he was just trying to get to know her, but Anna wasn’t trying to relay her pathetic life story to a group of strangers. She cleared her throat quickly as everyone began breaking off into separate, quiet conversations, a tangible awkwardness that wasn’t there before masking the room.

“Glenn?” Anna murmured once the group’s attention left her, turning to face her newfound friend. “I think I’ll take that drink now.”

Glenn didn’t say anything in return. He simply shot her a sympathetic look and poured her a heaping glass of wine. Anna grabbed the glass with her trembling fingers, exhaling shakily as she chugged the contents in one, long swig. When she pulled the glass away from her lips, her eyes caught sight of Daryl sitting across the table — he was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed against his chest, pensive eyes boring into hers.

The archer was the only person still staring at her, the rest of the group having broken off into side conversations. Anna slowly wiped the moisture from her lips with the back of her hand, leveling his stare, wondering what he could possibly be thinking about in that moment. Her thoughts were interrupted when Glenn nudged her, offering her another glass of wine which she gratefully accepted, pulling her gaze from Daryl’s.

“So when ya gonna tell us what the hell happened here, Doc?” Shane suddenly inquired, his voice drowning out the rest as everyone quieted uncomfortably. “All the, uh, the other doctors that were supposed ta’ be figurin’ out what happened. Where are they?” he asked, glancing around the table as he grabbed his glass, ignoring the pointed stares he was receiving from the rest of the group.

“We’re celebratin’, Shane,” Rick immediately interjected, shooting his friend a look. “Don't need ta’ do this now.”

“Whoa, wait a second,” Shane held up his hand incredulously. “This is why we’re here, right? This was your move,” he continued, directing his words towards Rick. “Supposed ta’, ya know, find all the answers an’ instead we, uh, —“ he broke off, a disbelieving laugh slipping through his lips. “— we found him,” Shane jerked his thumb in Jenner’s direction, his expression turning serious. “We found one man. Why?” he demanded, turning his attention onto Jenner, waiting for him to answer.

A heavy silence settled over the room and Anna took another long drink, relishing in the burning sensation it brought in the pit of her stomach, the effects of the alcohol already warming her body. Maybe if she drank enough, this horribly, uncomfortable tension would disappear — so she took another hearty swig as Jenner suddenly spoke.

“Well, when things got bad, a lot of people just…left,” he began slowly. “Went off to be with their families. And when things got worse — when the military cordon got overrun — the rest bolted,” he murmured, eyes distant as he stared down at the table.

“Every last one?” Shane fired back, his expression smug like he didn’t believe a word Jenner was saying.

“No,” Jenner’s head snapped up, his fiery gaze boring into Shane’s. “Many couldn’t face walking out the door. They…opted out,” he managed, shooting Shane an aggravated look. “There was a rash of suicides,” he explained softly, the group around the table shifting awkwardly, some choosing to drink, others lowering their gazes. “That was a bad time,” he murmured, mostly to himself.

“You didn’t leave,” Andrea suddenly pointed out, genuinely interested. “Why?”

“I just kept working — hoping to do some good,” he finally replied, his tormented eyes locking with Andrea’s.

Another long moment of silence settled over the cafeteria, everyone trapped in their own thoughts, mulling over Jenner’s confession.

From the corner of her eye, Anna saw Glenn stand up and push away from the table. “Dude, you are such a buzzkill, man,” he mumbled in Shane’s direction, clearly annoyed with the reminder of the depressing reality they lived in.

The brief moment of peace had been nice while it lasted.

Everyone seemed ready to head their separate ways for the night, the lighthearted-dinner-turned-heavy having exhausted what little energy they had left. Jenner had brought the group down a long hallway lined with bedrooms, allowing everyone to pick a space to sleep in that night. The mood amongst the group perked up at the mention of something they never thought they’d experience again — a hot shower.

Anna made herself at home in a small, closet-sized bedroom at the end of the hall. There wasn’t much inside — just a rickety cot, a pillow and blanket, and a trunk at the end of the bed — but it was more than enough for her. She was most excited about the tiny bathroom attached to the room — she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d showered properly, her natural stench and those around her something she’d become accustomed to over the past few weeks.

But as she stood below the shower head, letting the scalding water wash over her bruised, tired body, cleansing her flesh of all the dirt and grime it had accumulated over the past few weeks, she felt rush of emotion clog her throat. It may have been the wine coursing through her veins, those two hearty glasses having taken advantage of her demolished tolerance, but for some reason, tears sprung to her eyes.

The CDC was a dead end. There was no one left. There was no cure. There was nothing. Anna wondered if Fort Benning would’ve held the same fate for her.

She sniffled softly, scrubbing her skin raw in the attempt to clean the filth from her body. She shampooed and conditioned her hair twice, a small, disbelieving laugh slipping through her lips as she finally washed the grease from her strands. Once she was done with the washing, she merely stood beneath the shower head, eyes closed, relishing in the moment, unsure when this small miracle would happen again.

The water began to chill and Anna quickly turned the faucet off, her lips frowning as a shiver wracked through her. “Nice while it lasted,” she murmured aloud, her words slightly slurred as she stumbled out of the shower. “Lightweight,” she muttered to herself, rolling her eyes as she grabbed a spare towel and wrapped it around her body.

She wasn’t a big drinker growing up — she spent most of her time working after she turned twenty-one, so she never went through that ‘party faze’ most people her age endured. She and Ben would have a beer after especially tough days at home, but other than that, her experience with alcohol was limited. She had to admit though — it felt pretty damn nice. Everything felt heavy and warm and foggy, like the world had muted around her — the brevity of calm was alluring.

In the midst of serenity, a sudden memory seeped through Anna’s mind.

Anna pushed open the creaking screen door that led outside, spotting Ben sitting on the crumbling front steps. “Hey,” she greeted softly, closing the door shut behind her.

Ben glanced at her from over his shoulder, giving her a short nod and patting the empty space next to him. “How was work?” he murmured as Anna took a seat.

Anna sighed heavily, resting her elbows on her knees. “It was fine. Pretty slow, so made shit tips,” she grumbled, staring at the deteriorating house across the street. It looked incredibly similar to her own — broken shutters, crumbling siding, the interior even worse. But it was cheap. It was affordable. And even though she and Ben were forced to share a tiny, closet-sized bedroom, they had a roof over their heads. That was all they could ask for.

“It’ll pick up,” Ben nodded, his ever-present positivity something Anna envied — although as she peeked a glance at him, she couldn't help but feel that something was off, that something was bothering him.

She nudged his side gently. “What’s up with you?”

Ben exhaled, rubbing a hand over his haggard face, his fingers still stained with grease from his shift at the auto shop earlier that day. He reached for something near his feet, picking up a half-empty beer bottle and taking a long swig before offering it over to Anna. She took a sip, swishing the lukewarm liquid around in her mouth, her stomach unsettled by Ben’s lack of response.

She nudged him again. “Come on, talk to me,” she murmured, locking her fingers around the bottle.

Ben dug the heel of his boot onto the concrete steps, absently brushing his fingertips over the growing stubble on his chin. “Anna, I’m moving out,” he finally mustered.

Anna studied his features for a long moment before turning her eyes downward, studying the beer bottle’s label. She wasn’t surprised. She knew eventually this was going to happen and she’d been preparing for it. “When?” she mumbled.

Ben sighed again. “Couple of days.”

Anna scoffed softly. Now, that she wasn’t expecting. “Where?”

Her brother fidgeted for a moment beside her and she knew by that short pause, she wouldn’t like his answer. “Atlanta.”

Anna’s head snapped up, her fiery gaze boring into his guilty one. “Atlanta?” she shot back incredulously. “You’re moving out of state?”

“It’s not that far,” he defended, rolling his eyes.

“It’s like fourteen hours away, Ben,” she protested, trying to mask how hurt she felt.

Ben shook his head slightly, training his eyes on the house across the street. “It’s nine hours and thirteen minutes, actually.”

Anna scoffed once more, feeling a swell of tears cloud her vision, but she quickly pushed them away. “Well, it might as well be on the other side of the country.”

“Anna, I’m twenty-eight years old. How many twenty-eight-year-olds do you know still live at home?” Ben snapped, huffing in annoyance.

“Our situation is different and you know that,” she shot back pointedly.

“Bullshit!” Ben cussed, standing abruptly, beginning to pace the small portion of sidewalk in front of the steps. “Mom and Dad need to start taking care of themselves — it shouldn’t be on us. We’re their kids, for Christ’s sake! Not the other way around!”

Anna’s brow furrowed, this rare outburst from her brother something she wasn’t used to seeing. “Ben —”

“I mean, at some point we’ve gotta start living for ourselves, right?” he continued, bulldozing over her attempt to calm him. “Right?” he pressed, waiting for Anna’s reply. 

She took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Right,” she finally murmured, squeezing her eyes shut. Her brother was right. He was always right.

When she opened her eyes, Ben was standing in front of her, his expression troubled as he moved to sit beside her once more. “I want you to come with me.”

“I can’t,” Anna retorted before she could even mull over his offer.

Ben shot her an exasperated look. “Well, you can’t stay here.”

“I have to,” Anna shrugged helplessly. “We can’t both leave, Ben.”

“Well, I’m not leaving you alone in this shit-hole neighborhood, in a house that’s about three seconds from caving in on itself,” he fired back, gritting his teeth together in frustration. “You’re twenty-two now and — Jesus, Anna, these are supposed to be the best years of your life. And all you do is work and take care of Mom,” he sighed, his tone soft, expression tense. “What the fuck kinda life is that?”

“Ben, I’m okay,” Anna murmured, nodding her head, trying her best to appear convincing. “Look, it’s not like I’ll be here forever. It’s temporary. And when Dad finds a job, or when Mom’s feeling better, maybe — maybe then I can go.”

A long moment of silence passed where neither of them spoke. “Okay,” Ben suddenly voice, nodding his head. “Okay, we’ll wait until then.”

A look of confusion flashed across Anna’s face. “What’d you —”

“I’m not leaving you. It’s not happening. I’m not gonna go off and leave you to deal with all this shit by yourself,” he stated, steadfast in his change of heart. “Fuck that.”

“Ben, no. I promise I’m fine. You need to do this and —”

“Not without you, Annie. I’m not going anywhere without you.”

Anna felt a pang of guilt shoot through her. “C’mon, Ben. I’m not a little kid anymore. I can take care of myself.”

“Anna —”

“No, listen to me for a second,” Anna interjected firmly, waiting until Ben nodded for her to continue. “Ben, you’ve taken care of me my entire life. Ever since I was four years old and afraid to sleep by myself during thunderstorms,” a quiet laugh bubbled out of Anna as Ben’s eyes softened. “You’ve done more for me than anyone else ever has. So please…please just do this one thing for yourself.”

Ben shook his head slowly, expression torn. “But —”

“No,” Anna snapped, cutting him off. “No, I don’t wanna hear it. I will be just fine. I promise,” she pronounced each word clearly, hoping she’d get through to her brother. “It’s temporary, remember?”

Ben sighed after a lingering moment, long and heavy, shaking his head slightly. “You’ve gotta stop putting everyone else’s needs before your own.”

Anna quirked a smile, ignoring the lump forming in her throat. “I blame you, big brother. You’re the one that raised me, after all,” she teased, but somehow, her words came out heavier than intended.

Ben just shook his head once more, shoulder slumped in defeat. “You’re really not gonna come with me?” he murmured, glancing at Anna from the corner of his eye.

Anna gnawed on her bottom lip for a moment before quirking her brow. “No guy wants their little sister crashing at their bachelor pad — total buzzkill,” she smirked.

Ben nudged her with his elbow. “I don’t mind. You can be my wing woman — help me pick up chicks,” he waggled his eyebrows at her and Anna felt a laugh push its way out from deep in her gut.

“Maybe when I come to visit,” she grinned, taking a swig from the beer bottle before passing it back to her brother.

Ben brought the bottle to his lips, finishing its contents, before slinging an arm around Anna’s shoulders and pressing a kiss to the side of her head. “Whenever you’re ready to leave, you’ve got a place with me. You know that, right?”

A soft smile spread across Anna’s features despite the growing pain in her heart. Still, she sighed, resting her head on Ben’s shoulder. “Right.”

Anna snapped back to reality as another chill coursed through her.

That had been five years ago — five years ago that she and Ben had sat on those steps and had that conversation. She’d had every intention of picking up and moving to Atlanta, but for some reason, it’d never happened. Her dad had never found a job with steady income, her mom’s health had only deteriorated, and she herself had never found the courage to make that final step.

Anna had visited Ben a handful of times once he’d moved — she’d drive to the city and stay the weekend, he’d show her around and introduce her to his new friends, and they’d talk about what her life would look like once she made the move herself. But over the years, time and distance ran its natural course and Anna found herself seeing less and less of her big brother…

Anna quickly pushed away the painful memory and toweled off before she wiped the steam from the bathroom mirror, getting a good look at herself clean for the first time in God knows how long. Although she was much bonier now, her face worn and tired, she was beginning to see a semblance of who she used to be — maybe there was hope in this place after all.

She grabbed a clean comb from one of the sink drawers and went to work untangling the mess of knots her hair had become. It took her a solid twenty minutes to undo the damage done, but in the end, her hair was clean, combed and looking healthy. 

Anna found some spare clothes in the trunk at the foot of the bed and slipped into them — she tried to ignore the nagging thoughts of who these clothes used to belong to. They were a bit loose on her, the sweatpants hanging off her hips and the t-shirt baggy, but they were clean. This was turning out to be one of the best nights of her life.

After getting all settled, feeling fresh and like herself again, Anna felt the sudden urge to explore. When would this opportunity ever come again? The CDC was a fortress. There were no hidden dangers lurking, no untended to threats waiting to strike. And it wasn’t like she was going to sleep much — her mind was a constant ticking time bomb, her dreams plagued with nightmares. She wanted to explore.

Anna crept out of her room, the hallway quiet, the rest of the group having either turned in for the night or off doing something else. She meandered down hall after hall, peeking into the rooms with open doors — she checked out the recreational room where she ran into Carol and the kids, she found the library, the walls covered with hundreds of dusty books — before she decided to try upstairs.

She found the elevator Jenner had brought them to when they’d first arrived and made her way up to the main floor. The lobby was eerily quiet, vast and vacant, concealed in darkness as she walked out of the elevator. But as soon as she entered the space, the main lights automatically turned on, sensing her presence.

She spotted the main doors that her group had arrived at earlier that night, the steel door returned firmly in place. Tilting her head up, she breathed in awe at that cascading glass windows that lined the broad ceiling. But just as she turned to make her way back towards the elevator, she spotted someone slouched on the staircase near the front window.

“Glenn?” Anna murmured softly, recognizing his trademark baseball cap first.

His head snapped in her direction, a lazy smile slipping across his features. “Anna!” he grinned, holding his arms out, one hand clasped firmly around the neck of a wine bottle.

Anna snorted a laugh. “What the hell are you doing up here? Sitting in the dark, might I add?” she pointed out as she approached the stairs.

“Oh, the, uh…” Glenn fumbled for the right words, scratching the side of his head. “The lights! Yeah, the — the lights turned off an’ I, uh, didn’t really kinda know how to sorta turn them on,” he shrugged, words slurred and incoherent. “Oh...well, m’ drunk,” he hiccuped, resting his elbows on the stair behind him.

Anna rolled her eyes, sighing as she took a seat beside Glenn on the stairway. “They’re motion sensors, I think,” she murmured, glancing out the window that gave sight to the outdoors. In the distance, she could spot the RV, but in front of that was a graveyard full of the dead. She shivered when she realized that she could’ve very well been one of them had Jenner not allowed them inside.

“Here,” Glenn mumbled, passing her the bottle of wine, which she happily accepted, taking a long swig.

“So, are you originally from around here?” Anna inquired, taking one more sip before passing it back to Glenn.

He shook his head. “Michigan. Moved — uh, moved to Atlanta after college. Got a job —” he hiccuped, “— deliverin’ pizzas. It was awesome. Was livin’ the dream,” he sang the last couple of words, using the wine bottle as a microphone before swaying from where he sat, his skin losing its color all of the sudden.

“Oh, boy, you really are drunk,” Anna laughed, grabbing his shoulder to stop his swaying.

Glenn groaned, dropping his head down to his chest and rubbing his eyes. “S’ Daryl’s fault,” he grumbled incoherently. “He — he wanted this and — and now,” hiccup, “now he got it.”

Anna felt the corner’s of her mouth quirk up as she patted Glenn’s back understandingly. She sighed softly, resting her elbows on her knees, her chin in her hand. Thoughts of the archer suddenly invaded her mind and although she’d promised herself she wasn’t going to bother with Daryl anymore, something was nagging at her. It could’ve been the booze, ‘liquid courage' as Ben used to say, but Anna found herself speaking before she could stop herself. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Mhm?” Glenn hummed, forcing his gaze towards her.

Anna paused, tucking a strand of her still-wet hair behind her ear, carefully formulating her next words. “What’s the deal with Daryl?” she spoke slowly, cautiously, part of her chastising herself for breaking her ‘no more Dixon drama’ rule. 

But she couldn't help herself — it was now or never. She was intoxicated and Glenn probably wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning anyway.

So it was time to get some fucking answers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N : Oh man, I can’t wait until y’all see what I’ve got in store for you in the next chapter...

Lots happened in this chapter!

Thanks to Dale’s interrogation, we got to learn a bit about Anna.

Shoutout to @jodiereedus22 for inspiring that little flashback moment! Ugh, I just love Anna and Ben’s relationship - even though he left, but can you blame the man?!

Also, loving the budding friendship between Anna and Glenn/drunk Glenn.

And next chapter...we’re finally getting some answers involving the mystery that is Daryl Dixon! Stay tuned!

QUESTION OF THE WEEK: Why do you think Daryl’s got such an especially large chip on his shoulder when it comes to Anna? From her understanding, it’s unwarranted...but there may be more that’s happened than she realizes. Any ideas?

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[thewalkingdeadimaginings]

One Wish

Hey, I LOOOVE your imagines! I was wondering if you could write something where the reader is Negan's wife, but helps and falls for Daryl. Elaborate how you like, it doesn't have to be long or it can have smut, just whatever you think would be cool is great!! If you can't I totally understand! Have a lovely weekend! -Sam😊

Hi Sam! Sorry I’m getting to this so late! I hope you stuck around cause…you did send this…probably around six months ago and WHO WOULD WAIT THAT LONG FOR THEIR REQUEST. No one probably. But I’m trying my best to get through all these 6-8 month old requests. In November it’ll be a year since I started this blog 😊 so that’s exciting. But now I’ve got new requests coming in that I don’t wanna make the same mistake of taking six months to write it. Gotta work faster, faster, faster. Anyways, ENJOY.

It’s remarkable how quickly things change. One morning, you woke up in your husband, Negan’s arms feeling so happy and in love. You did have to share him with other wives but you didn’t care. Once the two of you were alone, it felt like those other women didn’t exist. Those moments meant so much to you. You never expected that to change.

But then Negan left for the day and didn’t come back for the rest of the night. He had returned by the next morning and when he did, he had someone new with him. You stayed in your room, knowing Negan didn’t want you coming outside just yet. But you stood by the window and watched Dwight drag out a man who was wounded badly, barely able to walk. He was pale and gaunt and bleeding profusely from his shoulder. Negan didn’t say a word to you about where he was going so this stranger’s sudden presence was quite a surprise.

“Get him in his cage,” Negan said to Dwight, “I’ll have someone come in and clean up that wound. You got him good, Dwight. Damn.”

Dwight nodded in agreement, shoving the wounded man forward, “Come on, Daryl. Get moving.”

You felt terrible for Daryl. He was moments away from collapse and was being shoved around like he was nothing. Not only that, but he looked so scared and so uncomfortable. Clearly, Daryl was some kind of enemy. Negan wouldn’t have thrown him in “his cage” if he wasn’t. But he seemed so harmless to you. What could he possibly have done?

A few moments later, Negan came into your room, laughing when you jumped away from your window, “It’s fine, Y/N. Lookin’ stunning as always. Sorry I didn’t come back last night, had some business to take care of with another group. Lessons to learn, deals to make.”

“That’s where that Daryl guy came from?” you said, “Why’d Dwight shoot him anyway?”

“Not important,” Negan replied, “Speakin’ of Daryl, Dr. Carson’s a little busy this afternoon but Daryl desperately needs his wound cleaned up. I know that Carson’s been teaching you some stuff. Mind helping me out a bit, honey?”

“Anything for you,” you said. You’d been getting better and better at all the medical stuff lately. You didn’t have the same know how that Dr. Carson did but you could give stitches and dress wounds. Negan grinned, wrapping his arms around your waist and placing a kiss on your lips. He still knew how to make you melt.

“You’re an angel,” he mumbled against your lips, “Gonna have to pay you back for this later.”

You let out a content sigh at that remark, giving Negan a small nod, “I can’t wait.”

After gathering the supplies you needed, Negan brought you to the cell he’d stuck Daryl in. You requested to be left alone with him just so he’d be at least somewhat comfortable. Negan laughed at your compassion for the man but agreed, taking Dwight and leaving. Before they left, you demanded they turn off that goddamn radio so you wouldn’t have to listen to “easy street” on repeat while you worked.

When you opened the door, you were stunned at the sight of Daryl completely naked. He was curled up in the corner of the room, fidgeting and trying to cover himself. You knew about the things Negan had done and continued to do and you always looked past it. But this was hard to ignore, hard to justify. Wasn’t it enough that he’d been shot? Now he was being humiliated? Stripped of his dignity?

“I’m here to fix up your wound,” you explained, “It’s alright. It’s just you and me here. I sent Negan and Dwight away.”

Daryl didn’t speak, didn’t even look at you. You approached him carefully, holding up the first aid kit you’d put together, “I just wanna help you. My name’s Y/N. Can you turn to face me please? So I can clean up your shoulder.”

He turned a little but still focused more on keeping himself covered. You shrugged your jacket off and held it out to him, “Here, you can cover yourself with my jacket if you want. I’m…I’m sorry about this.”

Without a word, Daryl took the jacket and laid it on his lap and finally turned to face you. You opened up your kit, “Just gonna wipe the blood off with water to start.”

You would’ve waited for a response before beginning but Daryl wasn’t going to respond to anything you said so you got a rag wet and started wiping the dried blood off his tanned skin. He winced slightly but otherwise didn’t do anything.

“Alright, I’m gonna clean the wound with something that’s gonna sting,” you explained. You took the wet rag and added rubbing alcohol. You hovered the rag above Daryl’s wound, taking a deep breath as if this was going to hurt you just as much as it would hurt him. When the rag touched his skin, he clenched his jaw and groaned, his entire body tense against your touch, “I know it hurts. I’m trying to make it quick but I wanna be thorough so you don’t get an infection.”

Daryl sucked in his breath and held it as you cleaned his wound. A few tiny whimpers escaped his lips but he still didn’t speak a word. When you finished cleaning his wound and set the rag aside, he exhaled, finally relaxing.

“I know, that’s the worst part,” you said, “I’m sure Negan won’t keep you here long. He kept Dwight here for a bit if I remember correctly. I don’t know what happened out there last night but it couldn’t have been good if Dwight shot you.”

Daryl grunted, which earned a sigh from you, “Not much of a talker, are you? I get it. After all this, how could you trust me?”

“You finished in there yet?” Negan called out, “Dwight’s got his breakfast ready!”

“Just bring it in here,” you said, “He can eat while I work.”

Dwight entered the room with a sandwich that had the strangest looking mush in it. He dropped the plate on the floor by Daryl’s legs, staring at your jacket on his lap in disgust, “What’re you doing, Y/N?”

“Just leave me to do this,” you said, “It was uncomfortable for both of us.”

“Fine,” Dwight muttered, “But he doesn’t keep the jacket. Eat up, Daryl. And hurry it up, Y/N. While we’re young, alright?”

Rolling your eyes, you continued working as Dwight walked out and left you alone with Daryl once more. You looked down at the sandwich, picking up the plate and smelling it. Was that dog food? Was Negan feeding these prisoners dog food?

“Jesus,” you whispered to yourself. You didn’t understand why Negan would take things this far. This was insane. What other lines did Negan cross right under your nose? You set the plate down on the floor, feeling uneasy as Daryl took the sandwich and bit into it, “I didn’t think it was like this.”

As usual, you got no answer from Daryl. So, you finished cleaning and dressing his wound. You gathered all of your supplies back into the first aid kit and stood up. Daryl curled back up in the corner, picking up your jacket and tossing it your way.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, “I’d let you keep it but…apparently that’s not what Negan wants. I’ll see what I can do about that.”

As soon as you left, Dwight started playing that easy street song again and it made you cringe. The thought of what Negan was putting Daryl and all the other prisoners through weighed heavily on your mind. It made you start questioning everything.

“I was thinking…” you mumbled that night as Negan was getting ready to come to bed. You tugged on a loose thread from your pillowcase, “There’s really no point in stripping those prisoners, is there? Maybe we can give them some clothes.”

“Why do you give two shits about the prisoners?” Negan said, “What did Daryl say to you while you were working on him?”

“Nothing,” you replied, “He was silent the entire time. I just think…what’s the point of stripping them and feeding them dog food?”

“All Daryl has to do is agree to kneel and join me,” Negan remarked, “It’s that simple. I don’t want you getting too close to that man, Y/N.”

“I’m not sure that’ll ever happen,” you said, “He wouldn’t say a word or even look at me. Maybe if you didn’t…well…take his clothes from him and force feed him dog food, you might get more of a response from him.”

“Look, I’ll handle things my way and you just do what you do best,” Negan said, climbing into bed beside you. It became obvious what he was implying when he buried his face in your neck, kissing along your collarbone. Normally, that shut you up and made you feel good but things felt too complicated now. It just never occurred to you how badly things were for everyone else around here.

“Negan, I’m just…not feeling it tonight,” you mumbled, “Too much on my mind.”

He sat up, chuckling softly as he shook his head and got out of bed. As he headed for the door, most likely to get what he wanted from one of his other wives, he shook his finger at you, “You’re no better than me, Y/N. You’ve lived comfortably this entire time while assholes like Daryl were in their cages. If you wanna join him, by all means just let me know and I can arrange it. Is that what you want?”

You slowly shook your head and hugged your knees to your chest. Negan laughed again, almost smugly as he opened your bedroom door, “That’s what I thought. Like I already said, Y/N, stay away from him unless I need your help treating his wounds.”

Over the next few days, Negan called on you to change Daryl’s bandages. He still hadn’t given him clothes or anything to eat other than dog food sandwiches. And he still played that easy street song incessantly, though he allowed it to be turned off while you were there. You could tell he wasn’t sleeping, probably because that song was on full blast all day long. After Negan made it clear he didn’t want you getting close to Daryl, you kept things short. It would’ve been pointless to even try anyway. He’d never trust you. You were the enemy. And Daryl was supposed to be your enemy but you just couldn’t force yourself to see him that way. Perhaps Negan was the real enemy. You knew he had an out of the ordinary way of handling things but you never thought to look into it. But after seeing Daryl in such a terrible state, you wondered what else Negan was up to.

“I wish I could convince them to keep that song off so you could sleep,” you remarked, pressing down on the edges of the bandage to keep it stuck to him.

“Get one wish and that’s what you’d ask for?” Daryl’s first words to you were cold and filled with venom but just the sound of his voice was startling enough, “Figures.”

“That’s not what I meant,” you said, your shoulders slumping, “If I got only one wish, I’d wish you right out of here. Believe me. I’d wish us all out of here.”

Daryl looked at you up and down, “Ain’t you Negan’s wife?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, “But…I’m just…starting to notice things. And I’m not liking what I’m seeing. But there’s nothing I can do about it. I’m Negan’s wife, I can’t leave.”

Daryl shrugged, “Sucks, doesn’t it?”

You paused, staring deeply into those blue eyes, your fingers lingering on his skin longer than you intended, your heart racing as a feeling crept into your mind that you weren’t sure you’d ever felt before. You shrugged the feelings off, figuring it was probably just sympathy for the naked prisoner sitting in front of you.

“Kinda does, yeah,” you said. Clearing your throat, you pulled away from him and got back up on your feet, “Well, I’m done here for today. I’ll probably see you tomorrow. Or not. I don’t know. I’m sure Negan will start sending you to Carson soon.”

Daryl nodded, holding your jacket up, “Don’t forget this.”

“Right,” you mumbled. He curled back up in the corner as you left, signaling to Dwight that you were finished and he could shut and lock the door once again. Seconds later, the music started up again and you hurried out of there before you lost your mind. But was it the song or the man making you go crazy?

Negan didn’t send you to change Daryl’s bandages anymore just as you’d expected. He made it clear that he would be sending him to Dr. Carson from now on. The more you started rejecting Negan, the more obvious it became that you had developed an attachment to Daryl. Negan, though he had many wives and just barely had a need for you, didn’t like to lose. And he especially didn’t want to lose to his prisoner. He’d keep you in his clutches forever.

But it did work. Being away from Daryl made it much easier to ignore those feelings you’d been so confused about since the last time you’d seen him. Things with Negan hadn’t gone back to the way they were before Daryl’s arrival, but you sucked it up just to keep Negan from getting angry. Lately, he’d been giving Sherri all of his attention anyway to poke at Dwight as much as he could.

Unfortunately, you would have to face those feelings eventually as Dwight found you and demanded that you come to the infirmary, claiming that Daryl refused to let Carson anywhere near him. It seemed Daryl wanted you to check his wounds and only you.

“Is that what he said?” you asked as Dwight dragged you by the arm.

“Please, he isn’t saying shit,” Dwight grumbled, “But he was fine when you were treating him and he won’t let Carson touch him. Maybe he’s gotta crush on you or something.”

“Doubt it,” you muttered, though the thought made your heart skip a beat. Once you arrived at the infirmary, you were relieved to see Daryl was finally given some clothes. They were smelly, filthy sweats but it was better than nothing. You frowned at the giant orange A on the sweatshirt, “Why’s there an A there? What’s it stand for?”

“Asshole,” Dwight snickered. You rolled your eyes as you sent him and Dr. Carson out of the room. Dwight protested at first but he knew you wouldn’t do anything until he left. You knew the resistance had something to do with Negan as Dwight always stayed away when you were helping Daryl.

Once Dwight and Dr. Carson were gone, you shut the door and walked over to the cabinets, pulling out clean bandages, “So, Dwight said you don’t want Carson treating you.”

Daryl gave a slight shrug but he was back to not speaking. You sighed as you approached him, gently touching his shoulder, “Mind if I take this off?”

He pulled the sweatshirt off over his head and you laid it down on the counter. You started with his back, as usual trying to ignore the scars on his skin. It would’ve been rude to ask where they came from. Whatever caused those scars must’ve been awful and this whole experience could easily be putting him in an even worse place.

“I wish there was something I could do,” you mumbled, lowering your voice to a whisper, “A way out for both of us.”

“Can’t be that bad for you,” Daryl said.

“I’ve just realized how wrong everything is,” you said, “I don’t want to be a part of this. I never did. I just…selfishly ignored it because I thought I was in love. But I’ve come to realize…I don’t think I was in love with him.”

Daryl turned his head slightly, “What made you realize that?”

“I…” you paused, your hands trembling as you set the dirty bandage aside. He turned his body to get a better look at you. Your body was burning up, those confusing feelings rising once more in your mind, “I…I don’t…I’m not sure. But it might be…might be um…might be something I wish I had the option to pursue.”

“So many wishes,” Daryl mumbled.

“I know,” you said, a light chuckle falling from your lips, “I’m pretty sure I only get three.”

Daryl turned back around, his elbows resting on his knees, “I wish you could too, Y/N. Wish we both could.”

You finished up with his back, pressing your lips together in a thin line as you moved to his chest, carefully peeling the bandage off, “Healing nicely. Looks like I kinda sorta know what I’m doing.”

“Yeah,” Daryl grunted. Your hand remained on his chest and you could feel his heart beating fast, which seemed to make him nervous as he started fidgeting and glancing at the door. This was insane and wrong on many levels. It would get you both into huge trouble but the longer you stared at him, the looser your grip on your self control became. His tongue darted across his thin lips as his blue eyes finally focused on you.

You found yourself leaning into him and he wasn’t protesting or stopping you. You could hear his breath tremble as your lips inched closer and closer to his. When your lips came down onto his, the electricity you felt was almost painful but you didn’t want it to stop. All the tension that surrounded the two of you in that moment faded away as you closed your eyes and held his face in your hands. You wanted to explore every inch of him, feel his hands on your skin. But Dwight was right outside the door and the two of you weren’t safe. With the last bit of self control you had, you pulled away, though you kept your forehead pressed against his.

“Wow,” you whispered. You stroked his hair before stepping away from him. You wanted to finish that kiss, take it even further but you couldn’t risk it. Negan would make Daryl’s life even worse if he found out. That kiss was already a huge risk. You took a clean bandage and placed it over his wound, “I-I’m sorry.”

Daryl took a minute to steady his breathing before he answered, “Don’t be. Just…”

“Just…what?”

“Wish…we…didn’t have to…stop.”

You sucked in your breath as you handed him his sweatshirt. You would’ve done anything to have more time alone with him. But his safety was more important than anything else right now. You sighed, “Me too.”

Negan kept you even busier after that. He didn’t seem to know about the kiss, he would’ve made it obvious that he knew. But he noticed a definite change in you so he started accompanying you to the infirmary whenever you worked on Daryl’s wounds. Negan had allowed him out of his “cage” and had him working outside. You may not have been able to go outside while he was but you could sit by your bedroom window and watch him work. He caught you staring a couple of times but he didn’t seem to mind. You could’ve sworn you’d seen him crack a smile.

You rarely spent time with Negan’s other wives anymore. You didn’t even see Negan that much anymore. You wanted so badly to get Daryl at the very least out of this place even if you couldn’t go with him. But the opportunity hadn’t come up yet. But as everything usually does, that changed when a young boy from the group Negan had taken Daryl from snuck into the sanctuary and killed two of Negan’s men. His main goal was to kill Negan but that plan obviously failed badly. It was almost sad watching that boy. You had no idea what Negan would do to him. He was so young and so angry. How had you not noticed all of these things before? Whatever love you felt for Negan couldn’t have been so blinding that you would’ve just ignored everything he was doing. Maybe it was just that Negan kept you safe, Negan fed you and clothed you and protected you. It’s easy to overlook bad things when you’re safe and sound behind thick walls. But you would rather face danger with Daryl than be safe and be a part of Negan’s cause.

With Negan gone, having taken the young boy back home, you were able to grab the keys that would get Daryl out of his cage and out of this place. No more hiding, no more pretending. You couldn’t stand this any longer. But when you got to Daryl’s cell, the door was already open and he had vanished.

“Oh god,” you mumbled to yourself. You crept through the hallways quietly as you heard the voices of Negan’s men. They would surely question why you were there, especially with keys in your hands. And you weren’t strong enough to take them down so you had to stay low and stay quiet.

The sounds of grunting and groaning suddenly came from outside, followed shortly by the sound of metal hitting the pavement. You followed the noises, rushing out the back door where all of the motorcycles and trucks were kept. Daryl was standing over a man he had just beaten to death with a metal rod. He had blood spatter all over his face and clothes. He’d changed from the sweats to a grey t-shirt, a dingy flannel, jeans, and a baseball cap. A man stood a few feet away that seemed to know Daryl but looked over at you in a panic.

“How…?” you said, “Who’s…who’s this? What’s…”

Daryl turned around to face you, “Y/N. I don’t know who but they slipped me keys. Remember when you said you wished you could get outta here?”

“I remember.”

Daryl hopped on one of the motorcycles and started it up, staring at you with hope in his eyes. You knew you wanted to leave but there was still hesitation, mostly just because you knew Negan would be furious and if you and Daryl were caught, he’d kill you both.

“You comin’ or not?” Daryl said.

“I…I’m scared,” you said, glancing at the man who’d been standing there in silence this whole time.

“There’s safety if you leave with us,” the man said, “I’m Jesus, from Hilltop.”

“See?” Daryl said, “We’ll be safe, Y/N. Come on. Leave with me. I want you to leave with me.”

You slowly came towards the bike. A smile curled on your lips as you leaned over and pulled him into a kiss. You could finally kiss him freely without a care in the world. He returned the kiss more aggressively than he had before back at the infirmary and you could never get enough of it. After this, you could kiss him whenever you wanted without fear. You could kiss him, hug him, hold his hand, fall asleep in his arms. He made you feel safer than Negan ever could.

“Let’s go,” you said as you pulled away from Daryl’s lips. You climbed onto the bike behind Daryl, wrapping your arms around him as Jesus told him he’d catch up with them. You rested your head on Daryl’s back as he rode off. Looking back at the sanctuary getting smaller and smaller was exhilarating, “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“Believe it, Y/N,” Daryl said, “We’re outta that hellhole.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, “For being a part of that. I can’t believe you still want me to go with you. You should’ve just left me there.”

Daryl rode down the empty streets for a few moments until there was enough distance between you two and the sanctuary. He pulled over to the side of the road and leaned back a little, sighing heavily, “Because that ain’t who you are, Y/N. Could tell from the moment we met. You’re better than those pricks. Deserve better too.”

“You really mean that?” you said.

“I do,” he replied. As he started the motorcycle up again, you distracted him for a moment, placing a few kisses along his jaw. He closed his eyes, leaning into your touch, “What’re you up to, Y/N?”

You wrapped your arms around him once more, running your hands up his chest a little, whispering softly in his ear, “I still wanna finish that kiss.”

HEY LOOK I DIDN’T TAKE ANOTHER MONTH TO POST AGAIN HAHAHAH. This was originally gonna have smut, simply because they mentioned it even though they didn’t necessarily ask for it. If smut is something they’d like to have, I’ll put it in. But I couldn’t really find a good spot to add smut. So, if you want a sequel with just pure smut, let me know!! 😊 but Daryl was a sad puppy in these episodes so writing this one shot was kinda difficult for me. Anyways, hope you liked this one shot!

[ddixons-angel]

Fated: Season 1

Summary: Gloria Rhee narrowly escapes Atlanta with her brother as the outbreak reaches the city. Luckily, they find a camp outside the city and together, they fend through encounters with the living and undead. 

Starts a little before Season 1 and then follows the main storyline of the show.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Glenn Sister!OC

Warnings: major TWD spoilers, language, violence (the typical TWD stuff)

To be Updated every Monday!

A/N: Hi hi! I’m super duper late to this bandwagon, aren’t I? Hehe. This is my very first ever fic based on The Walking Dead and it is basically a rewrite of the entire show with a character insert. This fic will revolve around this character so there will most likely be some major points that change or be omitted to fit the story. I’ve never actually written a fic that follows the set storyline of a show before, so please bare with me! 

I’ll most likely split this into segments based on each season of the show. Like one season will be posted in a consistent timeframe and then I’ll have a break, then post the next season, so on and so forth. Or if any of you have a better idea of how I can split this, please let me know!

Chapter 1:

A hot summer day in the middle of August, screams of terror and pain are heard all over the bustling streets of Atlanta, Georgia. People running for their lives, some trying to get into cars, some abandoning their already crashed cars; it’s a complete disaster. Police and ambulance sirens echo throughout the city, the service workers doing their best to put an end to the violence and rescue as many people as possible. Injured civilians are rushed into the hospital, cries of pain and fear sound through the halls of the emergency ward.

“Seriously, what the hell is going on…” Gloria Rhee exclaims to herself as she rushes down the hall to the emergency ward where she was called to assist.

“Gloria! Come here, I need your help.” an older woman beckons her over as she is wheeling a patient on a gurney to a room.

Gloria rushes over immediately and assists in pushing the gurney, she glances at the patient and isn’t able to ignore the patient’s injury; it looks as if they’ve been bitten.

“Doc, I don’t think they’re going to make it.” Gloria tries to say calmly, “the wound is still bleeding and by the looks of it, they’ve already lost a lot of blood.”

“That doesn’t mean we give up.” the woman gives Gloria a stern look and they push the gurney into the designated room.

Once the patient is in the room, the older woman gets to work with Gloria assisting her. They attempt to stop the bleeding and stabilize the patient, but soon realize that their attempts are futile; Gloria was right, they had lost too much blood. The older woman looks at Gloria with sad eyes and announce the time of death.

“Come on, it’s a complete mess out there, they need our help.” The woman says as she puts her hand on Gloria’s arm and starts to lead her out of the room.

Gloria nods and takes one last look at the patient and stops, “Wait, doc, look!” 

The older woman looks back at the patient and is shocked to see that the patient had woken up, but they seem different. Before Gloria could say anything about how empty the patient’s eyes look, the older woman had made her way to the patient already to check on them. To their horror, the patient is unresponsive to the doctor’s questions and instead snarls as they grab the doctor and sink their teeth into her, causing an agonizing scream. 

“Oh my god…” Gloria watches, horrified and unsure of what to do as the patient devours her now dead superior. 

Fear and panic take over her as she runs out of the room, screaming for help only to stop in her tracks as she takes in the scene in front of her. Patients, doctors, nurses, are all screaming as they are being eaten alive. Gloria looks around her and takes off to the nearest emergency exit. Once outside the hospital, she looks around only to see a similar scene out in the streets. 

“Glenn…” Gloria breathes the name of her brother and runs off to find him.

Dashing down the streets and jumping over cars, she reaches her first destination, Tony’s Pizzeria. Gloria opens the door to the restaurant to find that it’s completely trashed, the owner of the place on the ground and bleeding out. 

“Tony!” Gloria kneels down beside him and sees another bite on the man’s collar, “you have a first aid kit in here somewhere, right? We gotta get you patched up, come on.”

She attempts to help him up but he stops her, putting his arm on her shoulder, “No, you can’t, I’m already done, they got me.” 

“What are you talking about?! You’re bleeding out, we gotta-”

“What you gotta do is find Glenn and get the hell outta here! Watch out for those undead freaks, once you’re bit..” he looks at his own injury and chuckles bitterly, “you’re a goner.” 

Tears threaten to fall from Gloria’s eyes as she registers his words, “where is Glenn?”

Tony coughs and breathes heavily, “T-the last order I-I told him to make…was to that warehouse by N-Nelson’s. You know where that is?”

Gloria nods, “I do…I do, thank you…”

All the life in Tony’s eyes leave him as he breathes his last breath, smiling softly at Gloria. She sniffles and stops her sobs, getting up, she rushes into the kitchen to find something, anything, to arm herself with. She finds a large knife and comes back out to the front of the restaurant. She freezes when she sees Tony’s dead body starting to move and she hears a familiar snarl. 

“That’s what he meant by undead freaks…” Gloria whispers the realization and watches the undead corpse slowly getting up and finally notices her.

Knife in hand, Gloria prepares to run by the corpse without getting touched. She dashes between tables, only to trip on an already fallen chair and the corpse reaches for her. It’s jaws snapping at her while it’s hands grab hold of her shoulders. Gloria struggles, stabbing the corpse in the chest and shoulders but to no avail, it just kept trying to bite her. She uses all of her strength to hold him above her.

“Come on, think….” Gloria glances at where she had stabbed. 

It’s lungs are punctured and multiple stabs in the heart; Gloria looks up at Tony’s dead face and makes one last educated guess, the brain. She lets out a battle cry and pushes the corpse off her, then gets up and plunges the blade into the head of the corpse. It stops moving instantly. 

Gloria collapses back and reevaluates what just happened, “Holy shit…”

She composes herself again and yanks the knife out of the head of Tony and steps outside the restaurant, back onto the streets. Chaos is everywhere as everywhere she looks, there is blood and gore. 

“Fuck… I gotta find Glenn…”

— 

Gloria makes it to the warehouse that Tony had told her to go to find Glenn, but she isn’t able to get close to the warehouse as there are undead corpses roaming everywhere. The last thing she wants is to get caught in a crowd of those things. She thinks for a moment and decides to take a chance and head back home, thinking that Glenn might be there waiting for her already. Taking one last look around, Gloria heads back to her and Glenn’s apartment building, doing her best to avoid the undead on the way, only killing them if absolutely necessary. Thankfully, the lobby of her apartment seems clear of the undead, although there are smears of blood on the wall. 

“Glenn?” Gloria calls out when she opens the door to her apartment.

She sighs when she finds that the apartment is empty. Their apartment is still relatively clean, no sign of any rummaging through their things which tells Gloria that Glenn hadn’t come back to pack anything either. Gloria quickly goes to her room, grabbing her large duffle bag and any essentials. Before exiting her room, she catches her reflection in the mirror. Her nurse scrubs splattered with blood. Gloria decides to change out of her work uniform, just to prevent Glenn from running the opposite way when he sees her in bloody clothes. She packs her bag with clothes, water bottles, and any food she can find in their fridge and cupboards. With a full bag and the sheathed kitchen knife set her father gave her, she heads out of her apartment. 

Gloria pushes the door to her apartment building open, rushing out and not noticing that there are undead outside roaming and once they see her, one of them grabs her arm, pulling her towards them. She lets out a yelp and quickly stabs the one who grabbed her in the head, freeing her of it’s grasp and she runs away. She reaches a quieter street with less undead corpses, most of them distracted as they feast on other dead bodies. 

“Glenn!” Gloria yells out in desperation for her brother.

She looks around and soon realizes that she should not have yelled. The undead corpses which were originally busy feasting on their kill now have their attention on her, fresh meat. They all start to make their way towards her, snarling and groaning, attracting more undead to the area with noise. 

“Shit..” Gloria mutters under her breath as she tries to find a way out of this mess she brought upon herself.

Looking behind her, she finds a somewhat clear pathway and retreats through there, putting down and pushing away any undead that come close to her. Her path gets blocked off by cars and many more undead corpses, her only exit is to climb the cars and jump to the other side. Before she’s even able to climb on the hood of the car, hands grab at her legs and pull her back. Gloria struggles to break free, kicking at anything that comes close to her, attempting to stab at the ones holding onto her. She plunges her knife into the skull of the main undead corpse holding onto her, she frees herself but is unable to take her knife out of the skull. Giving up on the knife, she tumbles to the other side of the car where more undead are waiting for her, she dashes at any opening she can find through the hordes and finds herself backed into an alleyway, the horde blocking all exit paths for her. 

“Gloria! Gloria! Up here!”

She knows that voice. Looking up to find where the voice is coming from, Gloria sees her brother looking down at her from the roof of a building. Relief washes over her as she finds that he’s alive.

“Climb the ladder! Now! Hurry!” Glenn instructs her, his eyes glancing back and forth from her to the horde.

Without any hesitation, Gloria grabs onto the ladder mounted at the side of the building. She quickly climbs up, escaping the grabbing hands of the hungry undead in the alley. Glenn reaches out to her as she closes their distance and helps her over the ledge of the building. 

“You okay?” Glenn asks, his hand patting his sister’s back.

Gloria nods, out of breath from the near-death experience, then pulls him in for a tight hug, “I’m so glad you’re okay.” 

“Me too. Come on, let’s get out of here.” Glenn takes the lead.

“Wait,” Gloria stops him, she begins to dig into her bag and pulls out two knives that she packed from their apartment, giving one to Glenn, “Here, and don’t make any noise, they’re attracted to sound.” 

Glenn takes the kitchen blade from her and chuckles, “you brought the knife set dad gave you?” 

“Yeah, well, they’re finally coming in useful.” Gloria zips up her bag and puts it back on her back and starts walking with Glenn.

“Not really, those things are already dead, what good will a kitchen knife do?” Glenn exclaims, his voice full of worry, “how are we gonna stop them?”

Gloria points to her right temple, “It has to be the brain, something probably respawns there when they die so destroying that must kill them permanently.”

“Wow…they teach you that in Health Sciences too?” Glenn laughs.

“No, you dumbass. Let’s just say, I found out by killing your boss.” Gloria said as she looks down to the streets on the other side of the building, “this part seems clear. Hang on…where the hell are we even trying to go?” 

“Well…we wanna get away from all of this, so if there are no people, there won’t be any of these dead…undead things.” Glenn suggests.

“So we’re leaving the city.” Gloria concludes. 

She looks over at her brother and then back down at the streets. Glenn turns serious and tucks the sheathed knife into his belt, lightly pushing Gloria out of the way and climbs first over the ledge, carefully climbing down the ladder. Gloria follows him and soon they’re running through discreet pathways through the city. As Glenn was a pizza delivery guy, he knows all the best and quickest routes to anywhere in the city, including out of it.

“Never thought that delivering pizzas would give me such a useful skill.” Glenn grins as the two made it to the outskirts of the city.

As Glenn had predicted, the outside of the city didn’t have as many undead corpses since there weren’t that many people there either. There were more abandoned cars scattered along the roads, and one with tinted windows catches Glenn’s attention. 

“Woah! Look at this!” Glenn gleems excitedly, running over to the car, “It’s an RX7! I’ve always dreamed of driving one of these.”

Gloria rolls her eyes as she follows him, “Glenn, now is not the time for you to nerd out over your dream cars.” 

“I’m not nerding out! We won’t be getting far by foot, but this baby will take us to the next state! I’m gonna try to hotwire it.” Glenn says excitedly and goes over to the driver’s side.

“Do you even know how to? Just because they make it seem easy in the movies, doesn’t mean it is.” Gloria follows him, looking around in case their conversation attracts any undead. 

“That’s where I think you’re wrong si-” Glenn opens the door to the car and is surprised by an undead corpse in the driver’s seat lunging out at him, causing him to fall with the corpse on top of him. 

“Glenn!” Gloria shouts in panic, about to take her knife out from her belt when she hears the loud bang of a gunshot. 

The corpse on Glenn stops moving completely as he pushes it off of him. Gloria rushes over to help him up as they both look around for their saviour. 

“You two okay? He bit?” a voice calls out.

The siblings turn in the direction of the voice and see a man holding a handgun walking closer to them. Gloria looks over to Glenn at his question, holding her breath in fear as she searches his body for any injuries and lets her breath out when she doesn’t find any.

“I’m good, I’m good." Glenn reassures both of them, “Thank you, you saved my life.” 

The man nods and smiles at them, “No problem, saw a guy who needed help, and I helped. Name’s T-Dog.” 

Gloria chuckles, “T-Dog?”

“Well, okay real name Theodore Douglas, but everyone likes to call me T-Dog.” he laughs.

“Glenn.” he introduces himself and offers his hand out for a shake.

“Gloria.” she does the same, “so, where are you headed?”

T-Dog shrugs, “I don’t know, honestly, anywhere but here. What about you two?”

“We don’t know either, but like you, we don’t want to be anywhere near the city when it’s crawling with those things.” Glenn explains.

T-Dog nods, “Hey, tell you what, I got a van and we can travel wherever together, I don’t know about you guys, but I don’t think traveling alone is the best idea.” 

“You’re right, traveling alone is good for stealth and being quiet but with company, at least you have people who can watch your back.” Gloria says, crossing her arms and looks at Glenn.

He nods, “alright, I guess we’re a group now.” 

T-Dog leads the siblings to his van that he parked between a rummage of cars, disguising it as a broken down van so that no one would try to steal it. They get in and T’ starts the van, and they start to drive down the road heading to God-knows-where. Gloria and Glenn ask T’ questions to get to know the man better; it turns out that he used to play football and just before he found Glenn and Gloria, he went around rescuing the elderly from the undead. Then it’s T-Dog’s turn to ask questions, letting him learn about Glenn being a pizza delivery guy and Gloria an intern nurse studying to become a doctor. 

“So uh, I don’t mean to make this awkward but, are you two a thing or nah?” T-Dog questions hesitantly. 

“Sister! She’s my sister!” Glenn is quick to answer causing T-Dog to laugh. 

“Sorry! Sorry, I wasn’t sure and didn’t want to jump to conclusions just because you’re both Asian.” T-Dog defends himself.

Gloria chuckles as she starts to rummage through her bag, “It’s alright, honestly, we get that a lot. Mainly because people think we don’t look anything alike.” 

T-Dog glances over at them and back at the road again several times, “Nah, I can see the resemblance now that I actually look.” 

Glenn and Gloria laugh at this, then she pulls out three water bottles from her bag and a few snack bars, handing them over to Glenn and T-Dog. The three of them drive while eating and talking amongst themselves for what seems like hours until T’s van runs out of gas. Fortunately, Glenn tells them that he knows that there is a gas station not too far away and the siblings volunteer to go scavenge for gas as it’s T-Dog’s van, he needs to stay with it. They head off and find the gas station Glenn was talking about. Glenn starts to pump gas into containers while Gloria goes to scavenge more food and supplies. After getting as much as she can, Gloria rushes back out to meet with Glenn.

“Stop right there!” a deep voice calls out. 

Glenn looks over in the direction of the voice and sees a man with bushy hair wearing a sheriff uniform pointing a gun at Gloria. He quickly puts down the can of gasoline and raises his arms.

“W-we don’t want any trouble man, we were just getting gas.” Glenn tries to stay as calm as possible.

Gloria stands still, eyeing the man as he also analyses the two of them. 

“You guys got a group? A camp?” the man asks, his gun still pointing at Gloria.

“No. No, we don’t. We have a van and owner of said van.” Gloria replies, sarcastic and snarky remarks are her go-to defense mechanism which sometimes drives Glenn completely crazy especially given the situation they’re in.

“Is that what the gas is for?” the sheriff asks, his gun gestures to the canister of gas Glenn had gathered.

“Yeah, we were trying to get away from Atlanta but then ran out of gas.” Glenn explains, thinking that if they answer truthfully, this sheriff might let them go unscathed. 

The sheriff doesn’t seem to see them as a threat anymore as he puts his gun back into its holster, “My name is Shane, I have a camp at a quarry with others and we’re trying to build up our group. Safer in numbers, you get the deal. Would you two like to join us?” 

Gloria glances at Glenn and when he’s about to accept the offer, she speaks up, “how do we know we can trust you, I mean, you literally just pointed a gun at me.”

Glenn mentally facepalms as Shane chuckles, “you’re right, I did just point my gun at you, but you have to realize that I did it because I don’t know you, there are dangerous people out there and I’m not even talking about the walkers.” 

“You’re right! But you can trust us, we’re both good.” Glenn butts in, hoping his sister will shut up.

Shane smiles and nods, “let’s get going then,” he turns around and starts to walk them the way to the quarry.

“Wait,” Gloria calls out, “we weren’t lying about us having a van, our friend is back there waiting for us, he’s good too.” 

“Okay, let’s go get him, then.” 

Shane leads the siblings back to his car and they drive to where they had left T-Dog and his van. After explaining the situation to him, he agrees to go, liking the fact that they will have an actual camp to stay in. The four of them head off to the quarry and Shane introduces them to the inhabitants of the camp. Dale, an older man who owns the RV, gives them two tents and welcomes them to the group and camp. They get to know a few of the people living there and learn that they all refer to the undead as walkers, a term that they became used to as well.

 A few days after the siblings got settled into the camp, Gloria finds that the group is almost out of water bottles. One of the members of the camp, Amy, told her that there is a stream in the woods that carries fresh water to the pond, and so Gloria went to fetch water for the group. Easily, she found the stream and starts to fill up water bottles and soon enough all the empty bottles she brought with her are now filled. Gloria starts to head back to the camp with the water in her bag when she spots something on the ground, a dead rabbit with an arrow sticking out of it. She leans down and picks it up, frowning at the death of such a cute animal when a voice cuts through her thoughts.

“Hey! Tha’s my rabbit!” 

Gloria looks around the woods, trying to find the owner of the voice and apparently rabbit, when her eyes land upon a rough looking man holding a crossbow aimed directly at her. And if looks could kill, Gloria was sure she’d be dead with the way those piercing blue eyes bore into hers. 

—

Next Chapter

That was chapter 1! A long one but I wanted to set the flow. I know there was barely any Daryl in this chapter, but I promise there will be more in the next one! It actually starts with Gloria talking to Daryl. Anyway… Hope you all like it! 

I would really appreciate any comments left for me! I’ll be replying to any comments in a new post because this is a sideblog!