#wait also the way the hat also gets passed down to carl then judith like............. i dont even know what im feeling but its feelin STRONG

[bidaryl]

admit it. you only came back to atlanta for the hat. don’t tell anybody.

[storytime-hoe]

Tough Love Ch.11

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x O/C

Summary: Story picks up during season three as the group goes into Woodbury to rescue Glenn and Maggie from the Governor. However, they pick up another prisoner of Woodbury, Emma (O/C). She is a thief who fears friendships after her hard losses. She stays on the move, studying communities from afar and then robbing them blind. She has stayed alive this way for a while until the Governor catches her in the act. Now she finds herself with the group from the prison in a mission to kill the Governor for what he has done to her. She plans on stealing supplies from the prison group after the Governor is killed, but she might be growing a little too close to the groups members, especially one man in particular: Daryl Dixon.

Warnings: Slow burn, language, usual twd violence, mentions of abuse/rape

Authors Note: Hope you all enjoy this one! It’s a sad one I would say and we get some background info about Emma’s past. I kinda just made that part up without putting any forethought into it so it might be a little rough.

Previously: Ch.1         Ch.2       Ch.3       Ch.4     Ch.5      Ch.6     Ch.7       Ch.8       Ch.9       Ch.10

It took me a few more weeks to recover from the bullet wound. I hated sitting around in my room, unable to go out on runs with the others. There were a lot of mouths to feed and I wished I could do something to help out. I had been a scavenger and looter from the beginning, so I obviously couldn't hunt down or track anything to eat like Daryl could. I really felt useless.

And that wasn't good for me because every day that went by that I wasn't able to be of any help, the more my thoughts started to become poisoned. I couldn't help but feel like a burden all the time like every other fucker here who had everything brought to them on a silver platter. It wasn't good for me or my mindset and eventually I slumped into a depression.

I used to have these periods of depression all the fucking time before the turn of everything. I lived in a shit trailer park with my mom and little brother. I would feel the crushing responsibilities of taking care of them both, even though that should not have been my fucking job, and I knew I would never surmount to anything more than a doublewide. I would end up just like my damn mother, and I couldn't stand her most of the time.

Don't get me wrong, I loved her, but fuck was she hard to love. She never held down a job, so my waitressing gig was all that brought in money for us. We kept our bellies full, which is all that we could ask for, but when we did have a little extra money for luxuries, Mom would blow it all on booze or gamble it all away.

As much as I hated her for her lifestyle, I saw myself becoming the exact thing. I already had my interest perked with gambling, but unlike her I still had some self control. Waisting money wasn't all on her either. I had to have a few smokes back then. Now those were what really got me through the dark times, that is before it became acceptable to chop down rotting humans, which is what I really needed to do if I was to get out of this slump.

When the day came that I could lightly run on my leg good enough, I made the decision to go out on my own. I took a gun and a backpack and marched myself straight towards the gates without anyone saying anything to me. That was to good thing about looking like a pissed off bitch all the time, people steered clear of you and never questioned your actions.

I thought I was going to get out free of curious minds until I heard the pesky little boy shuffle up behind me.

"Where are you going?"

I stopped in my tracks with a deep sigh. "I thought you might be happy to see me leave, Carl?"

The boy wasn't looking at me when I turned towards him, he kept his eyes trained on the gun at my hip. Rick had confiscated gun rights after he heard that Carl had shot an innocent boy in the fight against the Governor. There was some dark shit going on in his head, that was for sure.

"Well, don't get your hopes up too high. I'm coming back."

His lips pressed into a thin line. "Good."

My eyebrows raised in surprise. "Good? You want me around now?"

His expression was hard as he looked at me with a drawn brow. "Are you sure going out alone is a good idea? Daryl said we aren't sup–"

"I know what he told everyone," I interrupted with more anger in my voice than I'm proud of, but when it came to Daryl making rules for me I couldn't help it. "Listen, kid. Can you just keep quiet about this?"

"How long will you be gone?" He peered up from under his hat, interrogating me like the mini sheriff he was. There was no mistaking the worry in his words, however. I guess I really had grown on the little guy if he was actually worried about me.

I gave him a lopsided smile and said, "I'll be back before sun down. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. I always am."

"I just think taking someone with you might be a good idea." He motioned back to the prison. "Michonne usually goes out around this time. Can't you just wait for her?"

I shrugged it off. I could've waited around, but I needed to be out on my own again. It was strange how I had sworn to be by myself for the rest of my life and then I was suddenly part of this group that was seeming to grow every minute. More and more people were brought in through the gates and it was becoming overwhelming, especially since I had not been able to escape. It was also exhausting trying to make everyone feel comfortable around me all the time. I tried being nice and smiling and to not be annoyed, but the more I tried the worse this stupor I was in got. For just this day I wanted to go out on my own and scream and hack down the dead and just feel what I wanted to. Not to mention how fucked up I was about what Beth had told me about Daryl liking me. I wanted my mind to shut the fuck up for a day, and the only way to do that was to be alone with a knife and some Walkers.

"How about I just meet up with Michonne once she heads out? I won't go far until she joins me."

He looked skeptical. This damn kid was always seeing through me.

"I promise," I lied, giving him a not so gently pat on the cheek, making a light smacking sound as I did.

Without another word I walked out of the gates of safety, ignoring the pang of guilt I felt about straight up lying to a child. Poor thing didn't deserve to worry over me so much.

I swallowed hard as I practically ran into the tree line, going much much farther out than I had intended. I really had wanted to stay rather close incase something did happen to me, it was my first day out after all, but being the mindless creature that I was I couldn't control the sense of freedom that swept me up and carried me through the trees.

I felt alive, like nothing could touch me now. I was an invincible motherfucker out here once again. An invincible motherfucker who was slightly lost.

It took me well past nightfall to see the lights of the prison shinning through the trees once again. I expected to walk back in unnoticed. To go straight to the newly fixed shower house and wash away the sweat and grime that I had accumulated. I expected no one to really notice or really care that I had been out passed when I claimed I'd return. But boy was I fucking wrong.

Whoever was keeping watch in the tower must have alerted everyone that I was approaching because inside the gates I was greeted by an angry looking Rick with Carl marching up behind him.

"You ratted me out," I accused the kid instantly.

"Carl did the right thing," Rick began, his voice reminding me of the tone my school principal would use when I got in trouble. Wow, what a throw back.

Just like back in school, I rushed to explain myself and make up a few excuses along the way. Talking myself out of trouble was a gift of mine. I had done in the previous world and in the current one on multiple occasions. I remember getting caught red handed looting some camps, but with a few well placed tears and a convincing story, people will let you get away with anything.

"I said I'd be back aft–"

"You also said you'd meet up with Michonne," Carl interrupted me before I could even get started.

Rick looked back at Carl and pointed at the prison door. "Why don't you go inside. Keep Judith company."

He wasn't too pleased that he was about to miss my scolding, but I was sure as hell happy he wouldn't have the honor. How embarrassing was this? An adult woman who was about to have a her ass beat because she went for a stroll. Pathetic.

"We were worried sick," he began after Carl had gone. "People were out looking for you."

I shook my head. "They shouldn't have been. Don't risk other lives for me. I didn't mean to scare everyone, but I needed to take a day by myself. This whole 'living in a community thing' is new to me."

"You're one of us now. We get concerned where the safety of one of our own is involved. Whether it be you or any of the others, going out alone isn't an option, especially if you just recently recovered from a serious injury. There are plenty of people who, I think, would be willing to join you anytime you wanted to go out."

I wanted to roll my eyes, but I reframed. This was a load of horse shit. "I don't need any permission to go where I want to. Hell, I could walk out forever right now if I wanted."

"That's true," his tone was much calmer, but the disappointment in his eyes ate away at me. "But it'd hurt an awful lot of people to see you go."

His eyes bore into me, making the guilt wash over me just before he turned to walk back inside. I had always been so petrified of losing people over and over again, that I had never thought about how they would feel if I was the one to disappeared. Beth had become a close friend, she would be heartbroken, I'm sure. More than she was when her boyfriend died that one time on a run. She hadn't been blinked an eye when she heard the news, but she was just unfazed by shit like that now. I saw the real sadness in her eyes when she would tell me about people from the past, it weighed her down like it did any other person. Carol too. I would chat with her some nights. She had all sorts of people that were taken away from her, we all did, and when she talked about someone like her dead daughter, the hurt was as strong as if it had just happened that day.

That's the thing about loosing people. The pain never really goes away. It chips away at a piece of your heart and that piece never fucking comes back, it's just gone.

I had been one selfish bitch to risk putting that hurt into anyone. God, Daryl would lose his fucking mind if I never came back. Or I assumed he would after how he had worried about my leg healing. He was really keen on being my protector after what we had gone through together, probably because he felt bad for me. Either way he no doubt was worried shitless when I was out alone. I cursed myself for doing that to him. Sure, he drove me crazy sometimes, but I never wanted to hurt him like that.

The cool wind blew hard against me and I went to take my first step towards the door to find Daryl. I owed him an apology, it was the least I could do. But before I got anywhere the door slammed open and out came one wound up Dixon.

I hadn't seen him in days, but he wore the same look that said "I'm going to fucking kill you". Why had I missed that look?

"The hell were ya thinkin'?"

Coming at me like that was not the best move. My defensive walls were up in a second and I was in his face yelling in a heartbeat.

"I was thinking I needed a minute alone. Sorry it got your panties all in a twist to see me enjoying myself instead of wallowing in a cell all fucking day."

"I would've gone with ya," he started, his eyes flashing with a hurt that I instantly wished I could fix. Why the fuck couldn't I calm down and explain everything to him like a normal person. I needed to tell him how depressing the prison was getting and that I know he wanted what was best for my by making me rest for weeks but that didn't stop the fact that I was losing my damn mind. But of course I wasn't that type of normal person.

"I don't think you understand what alone means." I wanted to keep the fire in my voice, but it was flittering away at a rapid pace. I felt like shit and he was making me feel worse about what I had done by the second. I cowered under his harsh stare slightly, my arms crossed over my chest in a lame attempt to make me look bolder.

"I don' think ya understand that ya coulda been fuckin' killed." He was still yelling at top velocity despite me backing down, his voice a graveling husk. I think he expected a heated argument from me like always, but I was in the wrong on this and I knew it. I know when to admit that at least.

"I'm sorry." He wasn't expecting a genuine apology, so he was taken aback by it. It took everything in me to swallow down my pride and continue. "I didn't think it would bother everyone like this. I didn't realize you all cared so much."

His throat bobbed with a swallow. I wished to fucking God that I could read what was going on in his head, but he hid it all so well. "Yeah," he huffed out, nodding his head slightly. "Our fucking mistake."

There it was, another piece of my heart breaking away.

I really fucked up this time. I wanted to make it better. I wanted to scream at him that I was fine and I wouldn't do it again and that I cared about him more than I was even comfortable with. I wanted to get over myself and wrap my arms around him like I had so many nights ago during my panic attack.

I didn't want to loose a friend like Daryl Dixon. I never wanted to hurt people like that. I didn't realize I had the power to hurt anyone anymore until Rick had told me so. I only wished I had realized it sooner.

I didn't want this hurt that pounded in my chest, not only from my own broken piece, but because I had been the cause of a piece of Daryl’s heart cracking away too.

Except maybe this time I could put the pieces back together somehow. 

I doubt it.

***

Taglist:

@daryldixonandfrogs @jodiereedus22 @xchrisxevansx

[theresnosafeharbor4myships]

Chapter 7 of my Caryl fic Through the Storm is here! This fic takes place during & after ep 9x16 “The Storm.” Chapter 1 can be found here, chapter 2 here, chapter 3 here, chapter 4 here, chapter 5 here, chapter 6 here.

Through the Storm: Chapter 7 - Coming Home (also on 9L)

“I’ll be here, just waiting and hoping for every long dream of you to come true.” – F. Scott Fitzgerald

________________________________

He hadn’t expected to enjoy playing in the snow after days and nights of trudging through powdery drifts and trying not to freeze, but the kids’ exuberance felt contagious.

Though RJ had it out for him, he kept Carol in his periphery as he ducked and hopped around trying to avoid flying snowballs, and joy flooded him when she joined in the fight. Her smile radiated brighter than the sun against the freshly fallen snow, and he let a few laughs out himself, the strange sound startling him. She’d even landed one solid missile smack into his chest, but before he could return fire, Judith, RJ, and Lydia ganged up on him, and suddenly he found himself at the bottom of a dog pile. Carol’s laugh reached his ears, and he couldn’t remember anything ever sounding so sweet.

The farther they’d trekked away from Hilltop, the more he’d worried she’d realize she made a mistake leaving her husband and her people behind.

But this was the first smile, the first peals of laughter, he’d witnessed from her since they’d happened upon those pikes and, with the tension he’d held in his chest easing, he knew he’d worried for nothing.

“Alright, kiddos,” Michonne scolded playfully, lifting RJ off of him. “Let Daryl up. The cold is gonna freeze his old bones and then who’ll take care of Dog?”

“Ain’t that old,” he grumbled under his breath, glaring playfully at Michonne before sneaking a glance a Carol. Standing a few feet away from them, a small smile graced her face, her eyes taking in their shenanigans, both amused and wistful.

“I will,” Judy offered excitedly before standing up and waiting for Daryl to right himself. “I liked taking care of him while you were gone.”

Daryl peered up at the girl from his seat in the snow, seeing the proud look on her face. At times, she reminded him of Carl, with that candid kid-stare from someone who’s seen too much for their age mixed with the envious ability to move past those horrors.

“Where is he?” he asked past the bittersweet ache in his chest.

“With Rosita.”

“I can bring him by later,” Aaron said, offering a hand to help Daryl stand. “I’m gonna head there now to get Gracie.”

“Thanks.” Daryl nodded, wiping the snow from his backside and clothes.

“Come on,” Michonne shepherded the kids closer to her as Aaron headed home. “Let’s go check on him.” She looked pointedly at Daryl. “I’ll show Lydia around a bit and bring her by later. I told Carol she can have the house on the corner, the one next to yours. Can you show her?”

His heart thundered so loudly he felt sure they could all hear it. It was really happening. Carol was back with them, and they would all be living within hundreds of feet of each other again. Michonne and Jude and RJ in a house next door to him, Carol on the other side. Living out in the woods alone, he’d always felt foolish even thinking it could happen again, that they’d all wind up in the same vicinity, in close proximity, feeling like a close-knit family instead of a fractured, dysfunctional, discontented rabble of people who once thrived only because of each others’ presence.

For a second, his chest constricted and he couldn’t breathe.

He nodded, trying to convey his gratefulness to Michonne with a simple look, hoping the others couldn’t read his every thought. She’d never said anything to him, but he sensed she understood his connection to Carol, his need for isolation after the loss of Rick and her decision to not only stay at the Kingdom but to marry the king.

He turned to where Carol stood a few feet away, waving bye to their friends. Cheeks pink from the cold, blue eyes blazing brightly, red coat lending her color she’d lost when she’d started wearing the drab Kingdom gear, she stole his breath, and like a tidal wave, all of the old feelings, the ones he’d denied even to himself, the ones he’d pushed down so far they only escaped in the subconscious of his dreams, thundered into him and swept his resolve away.

He loved her.

He didn’t even know when he’d started, but likely all the way back on that farm or somewhere out on the road. She’d grown on him, mean cuss he’d been then, without him knowing or his permission. Just slipped quietly and slowly into his veins like a steady lifeline, helping him grow, teaching him about compassion, showing him how to love. Even now, after all those years of loneliness for him, all the years of her choosing someone else, staying with him, marrying him…there’d never be anyone for him but Carol.

He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat, his blood heated, nerves raw, heart pounding, as he moved the few steps to stand beside her.

She dropped her waving hand as Judy turned the corner, and she turned to peer up at him, all radiant and vibrantly colored against the stark white of the world.

Words—his brain—failed him, so he lifted a hand to brush some lingering powder off the top of her hat.

“Judith’s got good aim,” she murmured.

He nodded and dropped his hand, just as hers reached up to brush snow off of his shoulder.  “Thanks. You, uh…ready to settle in?” He motioned down the street, wondering what it felt like for her to return here after so many years. He watched her face, hoping to catch some glimpse of…something…regret? disappointment? disdain?...but she seemed rather content at the moment.

“Yeah,” she nodded resolutely. “I am.”

He picked up his crossbow from where he’d dropped it and headed down the snow-covered street towards their homes. Carol fell into step beside him, and nostalgia nearly suffocated him with its power.

She’d come to visit him hundreds of times over the years, and they’d trekked plenty of places in and out of the woods, and even more throughout the Kindgom the past few months. But nothing prepared him for walking side by side with her down the streets of Alexandria knowing she was no longer married. Knowing she’d chosen to return to the place, the people, she’d left so long ago and had never returned to.

Until now.

The need to ask her what thoughts ran through her mind overwhelmed him, but he forced himself to hold back. It wasn’t their way, never had been. He’d wait until she felt ready to talk about everything, anything, or nothing. And he’d be here.

“From what I can tell, everything seems to still be in good shape,” Carol mused a moment later, her eyes surveying the houses they passed, the frames and top floors of the homes their only guide to the road in the whitewashed landscape.

“’Chonne and Aaron have done a good job keeping this place up. Michonne and the kids live here,” he pointed as the moved closer to the homes on the right.

“Rick’s house?” she asked softly, giving him a sad, questioning look.

“Yeah. She didn’t want to leave it after…”

She nodded as he trailed off, and he kept moving. “I’ll be living here.”

“The old house,” she murmured, and flashbacks of their first night in Alexandria, unsure, weary, on edge, and determined to stay together, filled his mind, the two of them and Rick plotting and planning, looking for a way to keep their family safe.

He quickly shut down the memories before they turned maudlin, his heart feeling too tender and exposed as it was with Carol right beside him, back with them.

“And this’ll be yours,” he indicated as they approached the last house on the block.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her take in the large house, her face a mixture of pensiveness and determination as they approached the stoop.

“Should be all settled for you. There’s plenty’a firewood on the covered porch in back, and there should be a few canned goods in the cabinet. We can get more when you need ‘em. I can show you where the pantry is now—just let me know when you’re ready.”

Carol turned to him, a grateful smile on her face, and nodded.

He returned the nod and moved to head back to his house.

“Wait.”

His heart jumped, and he turned to her again, hoping she couldn’t read the expectant hope on his face. He wasn’t ready to leave her, but he didn’t want to crowd her. So much had changed in the past few days, the last few months. He felt he was learning her rhythms all over again, trying to figure out how and where he belonged in her life.

“I haven’t been on my own in a long time. Stay for a while?”

She asked so guilelessly, her request so genuinely unsure, he wanted to wrap her in his arms and show her where she fit.

Things had greatly changed for her too, and she didn’t know where she stood at all—she’d said as much. Probably felt like a pinball, getting unceremoniously knocked around at the whim of fate.

Her vulnerable request at any other time might have surprised him, but after everything she’d suffered and despite their years apart—or maybe because of them—she felt she could ask this of him.

Heart thudding wildly, Daryl nodded before trudging towards her, and together they mounted the snowy steps. He held the screen door open for her as she turned the doorknob and took her first step into freedom. He followed closely behind, shutting as much of the icy cold outside before setting his crossbow down just inside the door.

Carol followed suit with her quiver and bow and took a quick glance around as she grabbed the beanie off her head.

“I’d forgotten how nice these homes are,” she murmured more to herself than to him. She moved around, checking out the space, the furniture, the sparse décor, all of it vastly different from the Kingdom structures she’d become used to, and he decided to let her acquaint herself with her new home in peace for a few minutes.

“I’ll grab some firewood, get a fire going.”

He made a few trips from the back porch to the living room, stocking the wood inside so she wouldn’t have to for a few days, and each time he entered the room she stood somewhere different: at the kitchen island, staring out the front window, in the middle of the living room. He couldn’t help wondering what she saw as she looked around. Did she see a safe place? A space where she could heal and learn to feel joy again? Did she see too much square footage and wish for her king? Maybe she imagined Henry sitting on the sofa, standing in the kitchen, his coat hung by the front door and his boots haphazardly left in the doorway.

After getting the flames going, he stood dumbly near the fireplace for a moment, watching her, his heart and tears in this throat. Forcing himself to swallow both down, he cleared his throat and shrugged out of his poncho and the jacket beneath it, moving to hang them up on the coat rack by the front door.

“I never did ask you what happened,” Carol’s voice close behind him startled him. “I always meant to…”

He felt her fingers tracing a wide arch across his shoulder, and he realized her fingers walked the edges of the missing angel wing.

She stood too close, her voice softer than necessary, her presence everything he wanted and so overwhelming he felt like drowning. Slowly, he turned to look at her, her gaze curious and innocent.

She had no idea the alarm bells in his heart jangled incessantly in her presence, his fear screaming at him to retreat. It was too much, too soon, so close.

He took a slow step backwards, then walked to the couch as she unbuttoned her jacket and hung it beside his, the appearance of their belongings, side by side, as alarming as her touch against his back.

“Happened a while after the bridge,” he began softly as she sat next to him on the sofa. “I was out looking for him, runnin’ after every walker I saw in the woods that looked like it coulda been him. I ran through some brambles and some of the brush caught on my back. I heard somethin’ tearin’ but I couldn’t stop. After I took out the walker I was after, I went back and saw the wing had come clean off, and I…I just sat down right there and stayed a while.”

Her steady, sorrowful gaze remained on him, and he knew she waited for the things he was trying not to say.

“It’s where I built my camp,” he finally admitted after a pregnant pause. “I couldn’t find him, I’d lost a piece of this—of me. It’s the only thing I have left from…” He shrugged, the movement belying the swelling of his throat. “…from Before. Seemed appropriate that half of it tore off when he died.”

He wanted to say more, to tell her the other half and his whole heart belonged to her and that he’d rip them both apart if something ever happened to her. The words sat so heavy on the back of his tongue they nearly choked him. And still he couldn’t make them come out of his mouth.

Instead, the moment grew heavy with silence, Carol’s familiar gaze peering into him, and he worried she could read in his eyes every single word he didn’t say. It didn’t seem right, her intuitive stare pulling all of his emotions out of him while he sat in wonder of her own thoughts.

He absentmindedly rubbed at his knee, ready to escape the tension between them, to flee the rolling tides of emotion dragging him under, but Carol suddenly nodded gently, compassion written on her face, and let the moment go.

“So…you have a house here at Alexandria?”

He’d expected her question the moment Michonne had mentioned his house, but the tone—he couldn’t quite place it. Curiosity mixed with…confusion? hurt?—surprised him.

“For when I visited,” he explained.

“You never visited the Kingdom.”

He’d wanted to. More than he wanted to avoid people—not to mention the king—he’d wanted to visit. To check on her and see her smile. To make sure she really was thriving and taking care of herself, and that others were taking care of her, too. To see her happy and healed and part of a community and in leadership, a place he knew she belonged.

But he also couldn’t. It hurt too much to see her with a group of people who didn’t know the real Carol, to see her walk amongst a community that didn’t include Michonne and Judith, that didn’t include him. To see a ring on her finger that he hadn’t put there, to know she turned to someone else for comfort and advice, for friendship and love. He couldn’t watch the man put his arm around her, hold her, kiss her.

So he didn’t.

“Wasn’t the right place for me,” he stated simply, the phrase the only truth he could speak about it.

She gave him a small nod of understanding. “Apparently it wasn’t the right place for me, either.”

“It was,” he countered, his voice soft. “It got you back here. With us.” He felt the weight of his words in his soul, the realization of it drowning him again. “Just took some time is all.”

Her face nearly broke out in a smile, and she looked down at her hands. “You doin’ okay?”

If anyone else had asked, he’d have laughed at the irony of the question, but her soft tone, the concern lacing her voice—Carol—had his insides melting. “Better,” he acknowledged, though he hadn’t felt okay in years. Still, they’d delivered the Kingdomites to their new home and arrived safely back at theirs. This was the place it’d all fallen apart so many years ago. Maybe it could be the place they could put themselves back together too.

“You alright?”

She’d cut the air right open with her question, and he couldn’t help but do the same, though he hadn’t meant to sound like a prize ass. Of course she wasn’t alright. She’d lost her son, her home, her kingdom, and her husband.

“I will be.” She looked up from where her hands played with the cuffs of her sweater, and he saw both deep sorrow and a glint of hope in her eyes. “Sometimes I feel like I’m drowning in mud, and I’m okay to stay there, let it suffocate me…sometimes I don’t get a choice. And others…”

He let the room sit silent as she trailed off, not wanting to interrupt if she wanted to continue, content to just be if she didn’t.

“I still can’t believe this place. What it is, that it exists. I see Michonne and Judith…RJ…” She shook her head in awe. “And I want to fight back hard enough to knock the world on its ass.”

“You do that,” he assured her.

She shook her head, a look of derision on her face.

“I watched you,” he told her before she could deny it. “I saw you handle the closing of the Kingdom with all the grace of the queen you were. Saw you lead those people with strength and help protect them along the way. I watched you stand up for the path you knew was right, for you and for your people. I saw you walk away from something that didn’t work for you, that suffocated you. And I watched you walk down this street to a new life that you were ready to have. If that ain’t fightin’ back in this world, then I don’t know what is.”

Her eyes, brimming with tears, bore into his until he thought he’d drown in them, and he had to look away. He craved her presence, these moments alone with her that’d been too few and far between the past several years. But now that they sat here, the air thick with emotion, his heart heavy with need, it overwhelmed him.

What he wanted and what he could have with her had always seemed to run on parallel tracks, and now…now he didn’t know if the safe distance between those lines existed anymore.

It scared the shit out of him.

“Gonna head out tomorrow as long as it doesn’t snow anymore,” he told her when the silence ran too long, their earlier conversation obviously over. “Aaron and I are gonna go back for the animals. See if Siddiq’ll join us. Can’t leave them out there much longer or they’ll run out of food and water.”

Carol nodded and he continued. “You wanna come with us?”

He wanted her with him and simultaneously wanted space, and he wondered how on Earth he was going to live next door to her without going crazy.

Memories of the prison filtered through his mind unexpectedly. The comfort they’d shared, how close they’d grown. Her teasing nature and fierce spirit. How she’d drawn him out of his shell, his cell. Would it feel the same again? Could they recapture the intimacy they’d shared, cross the line he’d felt both sure and uncertain they toed so carefully? Would they find each other again, her so lost in grief and coming out of a marriage she no longer wanted, him too isolated and content to remain so for fear of losing people again?

“I think I’ll stay here and reacquaint myself with the compound. And I can keep an eye on Lydia, make sure she’s okay.”

The statement, almost a question, surprised him, but he kept it off his face. He’d hoped she’d come around to Lydia. Keeping her with them, with women who knew how to love, mothers like Carol and Michonne, and men who cared and would protect her with honor, would do wonders for the traumatized, hurting girl who’d never known what a caring family could do. Carol and Lydia could learn so much from each other.

He nodded, pleased that she was already willing to help the girl and that Lydia would have an advocate while he was gone. “Thanks.”

Daryl eased forward on the couch, feeling the time had come to leave Carol to her new surroundings. “You gonna be alright?”

“Yeah,” she answered immediately, confidently. “Thanks for...”

Her hand gripped his forearm, setting his skin on fire even through the layers of warmth he still wore. “For everything,” she concluded, her voice thick with emotion.

He nodded, unsure what to say. He absently patted her knee as he stood and walked to the door. Slipping on his jacket and poncho, he turned to look at her again, sitting so comfortably in a house that looked nearly identical to his—and he couldn’t help wishing it was.

“If you need anything…” He motioned to the right where his lonely, Carol-less house sat just next door. “Just like old times.”

She smiled and nodded, and he took one last, longing look at her before heading out into the cold.

He couldn’t prevent the near-smile that graced his face as he walked the short distance to his new home.

[whateverisbeautiful]

Reveling in Richonne

121: The Turn (8x14)

The thing about this show is that it can have a weak season but, even then, there will still be at least a few moments that really deliver. And to me, this conversation between Rick and Morgan in this episode really delivers. 

It’s pretty moving and the fact that Lennie James and Andrew Lincoln are such phenomenal talents definitely has a lot to do with it. 💯

And in this conversation they have, there’s actually some Richonne connections to be made.

Plus, the events that occur in these following moments are particularly important since this is where we see a pivotal point for Rick. Imo it’s a large part of his turning point.

So after the beautifully acted moment between Rick and Michonne earlier, the next time we see Rick he’s sitting in a room with Judith. Rick clearly seems very distraught and then we see that he’s staring down at Carl’s hat, which is beyond heartbreaking, especially knowing that Carl was able to express what that hat meant to him in front of his dad. 😭

We’ve seen Rick have very brief moments of breaking and collecting himself post-Carl but I think this is the moment where the inner chaos that must be going on in his head is the most visible. Like this scene makes it clear how much all this is eating away at him. So he gets up and leaves cuz he can’t let himself sit in this pain. 

And it’s interesting that Judith was included in this moment because I think it just further hits home that Rick is in such a gripping head space that neither his wife or his daughter (the two lights he has left in this world) can bring him fully out yet. They definitely have come close, but right now his wrathful side has taken over and is spurring him to keep “moving to move away from it.”

So the very next scene is Rick walking outside with that coat on, so you already know what’s bout to go down. Someone or someone(s) finna meet their end. 💯

Another significant thing about this jacket is that it’s the one he wore when he killed the Claimer trying to kill Carl in the season 4 finale, and it just reminds me that Rick would do everything in his power to protect Carl and keep him safe and yet his son still eventually didn’t make it. (Why TWD, why?) 😢😪

On a lighter note, I notice how when Rick walks out it low key feels like when kids sneak out knowing good and well they’re supposed to stay inside lol. Like I def think all that looking around he does as he walks has to do with Michonne, cuz he knows if he runs into her then he won’t be able to help but abide to her wish that he stay here and process like he’s supposed to.

(Side note: I wish Michonne would have got her own storyline this episode so we could know what she did while Rick was out and in finding out he left. It would have been nice to know what she was up to that day. And not just cuz I’m in the ministry of #GiveMichonneMoreScreenTime)

This whole moment of Rick leaving is an indicator that Rick’s not in the best spot cuz Homeboy never goes against Michonne’s guidance if he can avoid it. Last time something like that happened he went crazy in ASZ.

So Rick approaches Alden and we’re seeing some signature Rick Nothing-to-play-with Grimes which I’m a fan of lol. He’s using his cop knowledge to get intel out of Alden and to get an idea of where those escaped Saviors might be.

Before walking away, Alden asks Rick that if it’s possible, could he not kill anymore people than he has to and he lets him know that Rick could have the potential to show these people a better way. 

It’s significant because it’s a very similar sentiment to what Carl expressed to him in his final moments. 

And again, it just goes to show that no matter how far he runs, everywhere Rick goes there is going to be some reminder of Carl and the message Carl instilled upon him.

After Alden tells him that showing these Saviors some empathy is something he could do, Rick responds saying “Yeah I could.” It’s low key petty, but I love the delivery of that line lol. 😋

At the same time, it’s yet another way to show that Rick isn’t ready to come to terms with Carl and his message. He knows he could do that, but he’s not trying to let the more rational side of him be in control of his actions right now cuz again, his goal is to kill away his problems.

So Rick leaves and then he runs into Morgan. And y’all they’re both on edge and losing it a little so probably not the best company right now lol. 

But I’m very happy these two got a storyline together cuz they started this series off and they’re some of the few characters that still have my heart on this show. Plus Lennie James and Andrew Lincoln are both seriously A1 actors. They are the best of the best in this cast, along with Danai and Melissa McBride imo. 👏🏽👏🏽(Which interestingly they play the four characters who lost children🏽)

When Morgan and Rick run into each other, Morgan’s in that murky headspace so Rick has to tell him “You know me”. And I love that it’s a “Clear” reference. It’s sweet that Rick knows how to proceed and talk Morgan down somewhat when he’s having an episode. It’s also sad cuz last time he told Morgan this, Carl was alive and well and forming the roots of his precious bond with Michonne. 😔

Rick also tells Morgan that he probably shouldn’t be out here which is true…for both of them lol. 

But what’s funny is that when Rick realizes they are both out here to finish off those Saviors he’s like “We finish it. You and me” to which I was like bruh but you just said he shouldn’t be out here 🤔…Again, not exactly thinking straight rn.

(Side note: Hearing him say “you and me” made me wish Rick would stop and remember how in 7x12 he told Michonne he wanted it to be “you and me reordering things together.” Cuz what he’s doing right now ain’t that.) 

It’s not long before Rick and Morgan find the place and are immediately captured. And seeing them tied up in that bar, I was just like Rick, friend…what is you doing. Cuz he’s supposed to be in his room reading a letter right now but instead he’s tied up in a bar with some Saviors. #wildin 

Plus I felt Rick also has to remember that him being out here in potentially life-threatening predicaments like this is going to greatly affect Michonne and Judith cuz he still have a family that needs him, and it would be devastating if they lost him so soon after losing Carl. But right now Rick can’t quite think pass the present.

I like how Rick wakes up so casually and asks how long he was out like he’s waking up from a nap tho. 😂 Homeboy is unbothered lol. Probably cuz he knows what he and Morgan are capable of. 

So these Saviors are trying to decide what their next move is and the sniveling one, Jared, is very eager to get back and turn Rick in. Rick then starts to recall Alden’s words and he presents an offer for the Saviors to come back to Hilltop and join them. He then gives his word and repeats what he said in 8x03 about how a man’s word “still gotta mean something”. Except this time there does seem to be less sincerity in his delivery. 

Jared’s not buying it and so then, y’all, I knew about Petty Rick but he was practically out-pettied by Morgan and I am here for Petty Morgan. 👏🏽👏🏽 His bold but casual honesty was great as he tells the Saviors; nah I’m def here to do what I have to do and kill all y’all. (And it’s funny cuz as Morgan starts really going off you can kind of see Rick look like he’s thinking “alright this might be too wild even for me” 😂)

Rick and Morgan warned these guys about a herd closing in and sure enough a swarm of walkers show up. Rick says “Thing is, we already killed you.”  and I don’t know why it’s said exactly but what I do know is that means he did kind of sort of warn them about what he’s about to do lol. 

They convince the Saviors that they’re too weak to take on this herd alone so some of the guys untie them. So then they’re all fending off this herd and a walker almost gets to Rick but then the Savior (that low key resembles early day Shane), takes out the walker before it can bite Rick, which makes it seem like he might be a real one.

But then things take a turn and get

Cuz Rick has the Saviors go in front of him and all Rick and Morgan have to do is just give each other a look like…

And that’s enough for both these OG’s to know what time it is and they proceed to take out all the Saviors.

Which my first reaction was like…

(Side note: That coat is undefeated, y’all.)

Now…I know this whole moment was controversial. And I have some thoughts on it lol. Cuz y’all the very first time I watched this I def felt like this was super cold of Rick and I felt like this was Rick dabbling way too far on the side of villainy. And with Rick having given his word I was like don’t tell me this show is trying to discredit Rick’s word, especially in the same episode he’s going to tell Michonne those words we’ve been waiting to hear. 

But then, like I have to do with many things, I stopped and addressed the error of my thinking. And I realized that this actually isn’t as heinous as it seems. Don’t get me wrong it was savage and revealing of how Rick’s in a very shaky spot, but in my opinion it was also sort of necessary and doesn’t make him a monster.

So while seeing Rick and Morgan at their most ruthless was tough to chew on initially, I eventually came to the conclusion that…

The way I see it, it’s like a kidnapping situation where oftentimes when someone is kidnapped and restrained from fighting back physically, they often use their words to help them escape by getting into their captors head. They will tell their captor anything to be let go, even if it’s a false promise like swearing they won’t say anything if they can go or that they’ll give them whatever they want, etc. These are all untrue but they’re used as an effective defense mechanism and escape strategy. 

And if it works and they’re able to escape and then they immediately break the promises they made, we’d understand that they had to give their word and then break it to survive. That’s what Rick had to do imo.

Cuz, while yes the Saviors untied them and even were working together to take out these walkers, the truth is there’s still not much of a legit reason to believe they can be trusted long term. 

Rick and Morgan were of use to the Saviors at the time, who knows what they’d do to them when the walker issue was done. They are after all on opposing sides of this war and technically have more loyalty to Negan than Rick. So Rick doesn’t have much reason to think they would genuinely side with him and it’s dangerous to risk finding out.

So Rick and Morgan’s lives were still on the line and Rick did what he had to do, which in this case was say what he had to say. His whole spiel about letting them go back to Hilltop was never his word, it was his defense mechanism to break out of there. It’s not that he meant it and went back on it, he never meant it.

What was his true word tho? That he was going to kill those Saviors and well…he def kept his word. 👀💯

And, yes, the vengeful aspect of this from Rick is not healthy and it’s definitely not Rick’s shining moment when he kills the guy that just saved his life but at least for me I don’t think this turn of events means Rick isn’t the guy we thought he was and especially most of all this does not mean he’s comparable to Negan in the slightest. Those comparisons just will never add up to me. 🤦🏽‍♀️

The most suspect aspect of this on Rick’s part is that it’s just so opposite of what Carl wanted for him, but in the end he’s not a horrible person for telling a lie to survive his captors. 

Plus doing all this allowed him to make it back to Michonne so...

So as Rick and Morgan are taking everybody out, I’m also here for Petty Morgan mean mugging Jared as he holds him to the gate, and then finally listens to Jared’s plea to let him go only once it’s too late. I was like…

Rick goes up to the guy who saved him and it’s interesting how similar the lighting is to the chapel scene where Rick spent his last moments with Carl.

There’s that same sort of light ray shining through and it’s ironic in a way cuz Rick promised to make it real for Carl but instead he’s just done the opposite of make it real, in the very same light. 

Admittedly, the most cruel feeling part of this whole thing is when Rick just bold face looks at this guy and cuts him off to tell him, “I lied.” But I think what we’re seeing right now is the very dark space Rick could go to if he doesn’t stop himself.

It’s deep to hear the Savior say he didn’t lie about wanting to make things work and it definitely sparks a contrast. Then, the Savior tells Rick they could’ve lived after and Lincoln does a great job of showcasing the suppressed emotion Rick feels at this moment.

The subtle smugness is quickly replaced with the struggle to pull the trigger cuz he knows he’s not right in the head and that he’s doing what his woman said “moving to move away from it.” But he can’t get away from it. 

Everywhere he goes, something or someone is reminding Rick of Carl’s dying wish in some way. And I bet it hits Rick that Carl was laying on the ground talking about this very thing of after and living together in peace. And that triggers Rick so he pulls the trigger. 

And this to me is the beginning of the turning point for him that actually starts to snap him out of this dark spot for a moment to become aware of what he’s becoming. 

Cuz as he stands around the bodies there’s definitely a sense that he’s gotten a big wake up call about how far he has strayed from Carl’s vision.

He’s slowly starting to sense that violence and wrath doesn’t solve the deeper pain and it isn’t the way to move forward.  

Morgan walks by and casually takes out a body about to turn, still in Petty Morgan beast mode I think. And what’s interesting is he says, “Everybody turns” and that line starts to carry a lot of weight. 

It means so much more than just everybody turns into walkers. It means everybody can turn from their old ways. In this world, everybody turns from their initial values and moral code at some point (especially after the loss of a child as we see in the cases of Rick, Morgan, Michonne and Carol in different parts of their journey)

But the thing is, yes everybody turns from who they are or were but just like you can turn dark, you can turn light again. You can turn back. 👌🏽 And in this following scene there really is a turning point for Rick where his eye are opened to how he has to turn things around.

Rick has a choice to continue on this dark path or be better and get better, not just for him but for his family and his people. So it’s significant that next we see Rick take a step towards that by reaching out to Morgan for an answer. And he gets just the answer he needs to realize which side he should choose.

He starts by telling Morgan how he saved him and he would have died without him, maybe even right in front of Morgan’s house. I love that these two get to make reference to the episode that started it all, 8 seasons later. Cuz they really were the two who drew us into this world.

What’s so meaningful about Rick bringing this up is that in the pilot Rick was to Morgan, what Siddiq was to Carl.

Rick was just a stranger at the time, but Morgan helped him like Carl took in Siddiq. So I think Rick is asking Morgan this right now because he’s trying to better understand Carl’s own thinking of helping the traveler by understanding why Morgan did that for him.

This is important cuz it’s Rick wanting to understand Carl’s side of things. So that right there let’s you know he’s not embracing the monster within, or at least he’s trying to fight it.

He reaches out to Morgan in hopes that it’ll help him see something that’s super difficult for him to see right now which is how to give people a chance again. He wants to be different and he’s essentially trying to gauge how by seeing why Morgan was able to do it for him, a stranger, all that time ago.

As Rick asks this, Morgan doesn’t want to talk about it and he just wants to go. Rick goes on to mention “Your son was there” and that’s when Morgan really wants to shut the conversation down cuz he still feels he’s not at a place to talk about Duane.

And this moment between them is so emotional because we were introduced to these two characters as fathers who would do anything for their sons and now they’ve both lost the very people they fought and lived for in the beginning. 😔

Rick continues to urge Morgan to just tell him why he saved him because reflecting on who they were before could help them understand how to try and be that again. 

And, while Morgan’s not at a place to just fully pour his heart out about this, he does manage to give Rick an answer that’s pretty profound.

He explains that the reason he did it was, “Because my son was there”. Y’all. 😭😭 

This is such a great response. The writing on this show has been suffering for a minute but that right there was spot on and really hit home to me. 👌🏽

It means so much. It’s so true that Morgan’s son gave him his humanity and then when he lost him, he lost all that humanity for a long while. And Rick has the potential to be in a similar spot cuz Carl was that instrumental to him as well. And you can tell that when Rick hears this he knows it too.

He knows it’s his son who kept him going for so long, especially before their family expanded, and so there’s a certain added somberness to this response cuz the very thing that motivated him is no longer with him.

But unlike Morgan who no longer has Duane to guide him to good, Rick still does have one more opportunity for Carl specifically to guide him to good; the letter.

So I think this is where Rick knows it’s time to read the letter. He needs his son’s guidance if he’s going to maintain his humanity, a humanity we saw jeopardized in this savior massacre (although, again, when you’re captured by the opposing side sometimes you have to finesse a situation)

(Side note: Speaking of finessing, that whole Jadis and Negan storyline was just a mess imo. Negan getting access to the guns and photos had me really wondering if he was a looney tunes character. And the fact that Jadis freed him and let him finesse her on her own turf with a brief bit of his backstory really had me like...

And also how is Negan going to see a helicopter and just casually be like; hey maybe we can chat about that one day?)

But I think the other saving grace that proves hope isn’t lost, is that Rick still has someone who Carl absolutely lives on through. Michonne and Carl had such an impact on each other and she represents so much of the good of Carl so through her and through Carl’s final words in the letter Rick can find his way back to the light.

Rick is a good man and a lot of what kept him that way was the motivation of his son, and without him that good complex got a little skewed, but deep down Rick still is good and wants to be good. So he knows something has got to give.

But the main reason I see this moment as Richonne related is because a big reason Rick let Michonne in, way back in season 3 is because his son was there. 😭

Like of course there was also an innate connection that Rick and Michonne seemed to have from the jump, but Rick was so entranced at that first meeting at the fence that it wasn’t until Carl spoke about helping her that Rick ran and brought her in. His son was taking in that moment similar to Duane in the pilot.

And then in the more personal sense of letting her in, it was also because his son was there to tell him Michonne is one of them that helped Rick feel more free to let Michonne further into his heart. 😊

And that decision to let her in changed his whole life for the better. Like she really did make life 1000x better for him. So if anything, that’s a telling reason of why sometimes letting people in works out and he should follow his son’s guidance, cuz Carl has shown him the way before and he can show him the way now too.

They end the scene with Rick in the broken mirror cuz, a little heavy handedly, it’s the broken man in the mirror. 

But it still speaks to something important because Rick’s been broken and it’s led him to go and act in the very way Carl didn’t want him to, so the mirror is this symbol of him having to face his issues head on and see more clearly that this isn’t the way.

So as Rick faces the man in the broken mirror he knows he’s at a crossroads with a crucial decision to make. Continue on as this cold blooded killer and lose his mind and have Carl’s death cripple him with insanity or turn to Carl through his letter to lead the way and make him a better man once more. 👌🏽

(Side note: I’m glad they didn’t have him look in the mirror cuz then I would have got some SNL “Californians” vibes lol 😂)

It’s really significant that 8x14 highlights the four characters who lost kids and that in this episode they each get to make reference to their kids and the way it changed them, because I think Carol, Michonne, and Morgan’s journeys after losing kids are meant to all represent paths Rick can choose to take having just recently joined this club.

He can be like Morgan and fall into a very fragile state of mind where he has unstable episodes and is never able to talk about it much. 

Or he can be like Carol and, as she says later in her words, “become nothing for a long while” only to emerge a strong fighter who also pushes the people close away and convinces herself that she has to be isolated. (Which side note: I’m proud of Carol that she was able to make some breakthroughs this episode in letting people in again)

Or he can be like Michonne who went to a very dark space like he’s gone to and then worked to put all this “moving to move away from it” behind her to face her demons and get to a point of healing and opening her heart to the love that was there for her.

I think it’s clear which road he should take.  And luckily the woman, who fought to overcome that shut down state she was once in, is willing and ready to walk this path of healing with him.😌

So this moment with Morgan is not only one of the best scenes of the season to me, but it is also the turning point for Rick. This is where he makes a decision on who he needs to be. 💯

Rick is not going to keep being this dark vengeful bloodthirsty guy, because he made a promise to Carl that he’s going to fight to keep. And he’s going to fight to keep this promise cuz, at his core, Rick is a man of his word. 👌🏽😌

And he has three very special words to say in this next moment. Amen. 😋🙌🏾😋🙌🏾😋🙌🏾😋🙌🏾🏾😋🙌

gif sources: michonnegrimes                                                                          andy-clutterbuck likeafantasy dailytwd carlschandler

[weretheoneswhowrite]

Michonne and Carl Chronicles

This story is set during the ZA..  Please enjoy

First Dance

“Hey, Carl!  How was school?” Michonne greeted cheerfully, dumping a bowl of snapped green beans into a steaming pot on the stove.   

Carl dropped his backpack to the floor and flopped face down on the sofa, groaning.  His hat tumbling to the armrest.

“That good, huh?”

“I know we all wanted to establish a new world, but I think some things should have stayed in the past,” he grumbled.

Driving out the monster herd that had descended upon Alexandria had sparked a whole new feeling of community.   Members of the Alexandria Safe Zone had come together and defeated a major threat as a cohesive unit.  Getting shot in the eye by that idiot Ron after his spaz family got themselves and nearly all the rest of them eaten by the walkers was an unfortunate consequence for Carl, and led to Ron’s death at Michonne’s hand, but his dad and Michonne standing vigil while he fought to stay alive had also brought them closer together and led them to realize they were in love.  

Carl was ecstatic by the news.  He loved Michonne.  She’d seamlessly filled the void losing his mother had left for him and his little sister, and he knew long before she and his dad did that they were a lot more than just friends.    They’d been a family for years, so the wedding a few months after merely sealed the bond.   A year later, Alexandria, and the discovered communities of Hilltop, the Kingdom, and Oceanside were thriving, he was approaching the end of his junior year at the consolidated high school, and Michonne had recently discovered she’d be giving him and Judith a little brother or sister.   His dad couldn’t stop smiling.   Carl never imagined life could become so close to how it was before the walkers existed.   There was a functional system of bartering and even a few shops.

“What are you talking about staying in the past?” Michonne said.  “Scoot.”  She tapped his leg and he sat up, sliding to middle cushion to give her a spot to sit.   “You love school.”

“I do.  I’m not upset about school, it what’s happening at school.  There’s a dance next Friday.”   Carl shuddered.  Just thinking about it made him queasy.  “The Spring Shindig,” he said, making air quotes.   “They’re having a prom.   We even have a list of places to get formal wear.  Can you believe that?”

“A prom?” Michonne gasped, her face bright with happiness.  “That’s great!” She nudged his shoulder.  “You’re going, right?”

“Tsk! C’mon.”

“No, Carl, you have to.  And you’ll take Cyndie.”  She sighed like the pleased mother she was.  “I’ve seen the way you are with her.”

Carl’s cheeks warmed.   Of course Michonne would notice that.   Cyndie was so pretty, smart, and kind.   Back in the fall, her family had moved from Oceanside and into the house next to Glenn and Maggie’s, and he and Cyndie had become close.   If he were to ask anybody, it would be her, but…  He shook his head   “I don’t want to go to this thing.”

“Sure you do.”

“What’s the point?  What would I do at a prom?”

“Dance, laugh, and have a good time.   And that’s what you’re going to do.  It’s settled.”  She plucked his hat from the armrest and placed it in his hand, shooing him.  “Go over to Cyndie’s and ask her.”  Moments passed and he didn’t move.  “Why haven’t you left?”

“I can laugh and have a good time anywhere, that doesn’t take coordination.  I don’t know how to dance, Michonne.”  Carl groaned after his confession.  “I never had to know.  I have two left feet and no right eye.”

“Today’s Monday.   You have me and almost two weeks before the dance.   Your first lesson will be tonight after dinner.  Since it’s my night to cook and I’m preparing your favorite meal, you’ll be in a great mood to dance.”

Roasted chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, and green beans were great, but those things wouldn’t turn him into Maksim Chmerkovskiy or put him in the mood to dance.  Carl shook his head.   He didn’t see how this could work.  “Michonne…”

She shushed him.   “You’ll be ready.  Go ask your girl.”  Michonne returned to the stove, stirring the pots.   “I can handle everything else.”

Carl smiled.  Her confidence made him confident.  “Yes, ma’am.”

“What’s Mommy doing?” Judith whispered loudly to Rick as Michonne and Carl moved awkwardly around the room.

Michonne glanced over, hearing the four-year-old’s words over the music.  Judith was at the age where everything was a question.   The recent biggie -- with news of their impending arrival -- where do babies come from?   ‘Heaven’ had become a go-to answer for her husband.  Gabriel’s Sunday services had done that for him.

“She’s teaching Carl to dance,” Rick answered, watching them.

“Why?”

“He’s going to the prom.”

Michonne grunted when Carl stepped on her toe for the third time.

“Sorry.   I’m sorry,” Carl said apologetically.

“What’s the prom?” Judith asked.

“It’s a dance,” Rick replied, his face scrunched curiously.   That look worried Michonne.   It confirmed this first dance lesson was going worse than she thought.  

“Is that the dance they’re doing now?”

Rick laughed out loud, as did Michonne and Carl.  “No, sweetie, it’s not.”  He gathered Judith from the couch.  “Let’s give you a bath and let Mommy help Carl.”

“Thank you,” Michonne whispered when Rick passed her on his way up the stairs.  Maybe not having an audience would help Carl.

Rick kissed her cheek and stroked her slightly swollen belly.  “You’re welcome.  Good luck.”

Michonne turned her attention back to Carl when Rick and Judith left.  “You need to relax.”  She clasped his hand in hers, standing about five inches away.  “Put your hand on my waist.”  He complied.  “Now, I’m going to step to the left, and you follow.” Carl looked down.  “Uh-uh.  Don’t look at your feet.  Look at my eyes.”

About twenty minutes later Carl slouched, groaning.   “I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can.” She pressed her hand to his cheek.  Her feet ached, but she wasn’t giving up.  “This is the hardest dance to learn, the others will be easier.”  She snapped her fingers.  “Let’s go again.”

As the days passed, Carl’s comfort on the dance floor increased.  Every night after dinner, and twice on the weekend, Michonne practiced with him for an hour.   His feet, that had been like heavy logs on hers, had transformed to thin branches that swept across the floor with ease.  His dedication and effort had paid off, and Michonne was so proud.  

The night of the prom, she and Rick waited anxiously, camera in hand, for Carl to come down the stairs in the tuxedo he and Rick had found the day before.  

“You’re not going to cry, are you?”  Rick asked, rubbing her arm, their eyes glued to the stairs.

“I think it’s a safe bet that I am definitely going to cry.   He’s going to the prom, Rick.” Michonne squeezed him tightly.  “Did you ever think such a thing would happen?”

“No. But I’ve gotten a lot of wonderful things I never expected.” He covered her tummy and leaned forward, his kiss sweet, soft, and so full of love.

“Ahem.  Minors incoming,” Carl said, descending the stairs hand-in-hand with Judith.

Michonne gasped, awestruck.  Her tears flowed freely, while Rick snapped picture after picture.   The tuxedo fit like it was tailor-made, Carl’s flowing dark mane had been trimmed and coiffed to perfection, he wore a new leather eye patch with cloth straps that matched the tux, and the red rose boutonnière added the ideal splash of color.   Michonne shook her head, wondering where the little boy she met at the prison had gone.  “You look so handsome, Carl.”

Judith wrapped her arms around Michonne’s leg.  “Why is Mommy sad?”

“I’m not, sweetie.” Michonne sniffled, cupping Carl’s cheek.   “I’m very happy.”

Carl brought her into a warm embrace.   “This night wouldn’t be happening without you.  I’d convinced myself I didn’t want it, but you knew better.  You stuck with me when I was ready to give up, and I am so grateful.   You’re the best mom ever.”  He tightened the hug, kissing her cheek.  “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, baby.  You have a good time.”

“Thanks to you, I know I will.”

“Don’t have too good a time,” Rick added, his face stern and words pointed.  “You be a gentleman.”

“Of course.”  Michonne and Rick shared a look as Carl swooped up Cyndie’s corsage from the counter and bounced to the door.  “Later!”

“You gave him the talk, right?” Michonne said.

“I did, again and even more forcefully, but… Ugh.” Rick groaned.

“I know.”  Michonne sucked in a slow, hissing breath.  “Prom night.”

Written by: @richonnelvr218​

-We're The Ones Who Write

[ohmyneganimagination-twd-blog]

Lost bet

Hello ! So, here I’m with a new oneshot ! I had this idea for a long time now and I wanted to write it. So, here it’s ! I hope you’ll like it ! 

(Here is the link to my masterlist !)

Summary : “Negan is in Alexandria for another visit. She is attracted to Rick and he knows it. She offers him to play a game and make a small bet. Rick loses miserably, but doesn’t regret it at all”.

Ships : Female! Negan x Rick Grimes

Words : 3094

Warnings : Curses, smut

Tag : @heartfulloffandoms - @itsneganslucille - @negans-network - @autumnjade22 - @backseat-negan (Don’t forget to see their fantastic blogs !)

Enjoy !

***

“Come on, let's play a little game”. “I don’t want to play with a woman like you”. “Oh, Rick. Fuck, you're annoying !” The young woman sighed as she fell on the chair, roughly placing her feet on the small table in front of her. She rolled her head to the side to see the chief of Alexandria busy by observing the Saviors who had passed the porch of his house, provisions under their arms. A smile penetrated her face and she stretched, attracting Rick's attention. “Oh, Rick. Sometimes, you're really pathetic”. “I may be pathetic, but not a killer like you”. “And there’s the same shitty look. You're lucky I'm in a good mood today”. Rick said nothing and just got up to lean on the fence, taking advantage of the sun bathed in his face. The other was still sat, her tongue between her lips. “So, Rick ? For our little game ?” The other remained silent, seeing his children passed in front of him, Carl pushing the stroller with Judith inside, a small hat covering her sensitive skin. “Oh, come on ! You’re not going to ignore me now. Rick, if that's for earlier, I'm really sorry”. “I don’t believe any word coming out of your mouth, Negan," Rick whispered. Negan's smile broadened to the agreement of her name and leapt from her chair to land next to Rick, without hiding his annoyed sigh. “Oh my, Rick ! I love when you say my name”, Negan exclaimed excitedly, passing her tongue on her lips. She leaned her head to the side to better see the face of his interlocutor, admiring his azure eyes.

Her smile widened and she began tapping the wood below her fingers, her tongue between her teeth. She giggled, shaking her head and standing up straight under Rick's questioning eye. She turned back to the chair she had left to bend over and pick up her wooden bat wrapped in wire, Lucille. The leather of her jacket creaked as she returned to her lower position, and her boots squealed as she walked down the small steps that cracked beneath her feet. Negan stopped in front of Rick, who stared at her without restraint. "Why not the question and answer game ? It’s not that bad, is it ?”

“What do you want ?” Rick grunted as he saw the other put a black wick behind her ear, absently swaying Lucille at her side. “Tonight, I come to your house and play this game. If one of us isn’t honest, you or I will be forced to drink a full glass of beer. What about that ?” Negan asked, opening her arms wide. Rick remained silent, an indescribable expression on his face. He thought for a moment, passing all possible scenarios of that evening. But also the consequences of his refusal. He accepted reluctantly, for the sole purpose of protecting his family. He nodded in reply and decided to go home. Negan smiled, feeling the impatience pulsing in her. “Rick, bring the beer. You didn’t think I was going to do this shit, did you ?” Rick stopped at his door, clenching his fists. Negan waved her hand, her back turned towards him as she moved toward her men. “I have things to do. See ya tonight, Rick !” And she started whistling, a big smile distorting her lips.

***

Negan spent the rest of her day giving orders, strolling around Alexandria, swinging Lucille back and forth, putting herself in the shade to shelter from the burning sun. While she fancied she could see Rick bring bottles of the reserve to his home. Negan had given him permission and had warned his men to let him. She looked at the man with amusement, the bottles in his hand, sometimes cleaning sweat on his forehead. And when he crossed her eyes, he always ended by turning his head as he saw Negan giggle. The sun was already setting on the horizon, leaving its satellite to take its place and the stars begin to shine in the sky turning black ink. The crickets began to sing, the owls to hoot. And the men who had worked under the July lead sun, had been released by Negan. They therefore decided to squat in the inhabitants’ houses of the small community to be able to drink or rest. Negan, meanwhile, was heading for Rick's illuminated house. She accelerated the cadence and soon found herself in front of his door to knock three times. She didn’t wait long because the host opened. A smile crept over her face before seeing his children getting out with surprise, Carl holding Judith in his arms. “Carl, take care of your sister, and if there's any problem, call me”. “Okay, Dad”, the teen agreed. And without a glance at Negan, he went down the steps, a Judith asleep in his arms, her head resting against his chest. Rick watched his children enter Michonne’s old house. He turned towards Negan and made a head move inward, the latter having remained silent in the face of all the conversation that had occurred before her. “An attentive and prudent father. It's too cute”, Negan said finally as she walked through the hall to the kitchen where a series of glass bottles were placed on the counter. “Is that enough ?” The man asked, ignoring her comment. “Rick, it was your job. If you did shit, you'll pay for it later”. And on these words, Negan placed Lucille against the counter, removed her leather jacket which she put on the side and pulled a stool and finally sat down with a sigh. Rick soon followed her. They watched each other for a moment, the silence hovering in the room. Rick put his elbows on the counter and squeezed his hands. Negan rested her head on her hand, her gloved fingers patting on the counter. “What are the rules ?” Rick finally asked after three minutes of silence. “It's fucking simple. We ask ourselves questions to get to know each other better by being honest”, Negan said with a mischievous smile. “Otherwise, you drink a whole bottle. And I ask you the same question again, until you’re honest”. “That's all ?” “What ? Do you prefer to play truth or dare ?”

At his grimace, she understood very well that it was the opposite. She put a black wick behind her ear and took a bottle of beer in her hand, inviting the other to do the same. He did it without flinching. “I begin ?” Rick nodded affirmatively. Negan's green-hazel eyes looked up at the ceiling while she was thinking. “What were you before of all this shit ?” Negan finally asked. “I was a cop. I've always dreamed of being one”, Ricl directly answered. “I better understand your cowboy looks and that irresistible urge to lead”, the other laughed. “My turn”. “Go ahead”. “And what about you ?”

“The same question ? In lack of imagination ?” She joked, making circles on the neck of the bottle. “Is that a refusal ?” “No, Rick. I'm a woman, but I'm not as weak as you think”, Negan replied with a bright smile, her cheekbones pronouncing. “Before I go on, I'd like to make a bet”. “A.. bet ?” Rick repeated, puzzled. “Yes. I bet you'll fall stiff fucking dead before me”. “No way”, he whispered. “You win, and I don’t come in Alexandria for a month”. Rick stiffened and looked at his interlocutor, surprised but incredulous. “What if you win ?” “If I win.. Well, I'll get only five fucking little minutes where I can do what I want”, the young woman finished, passing her tongue over her lips. “Out of the question”. “It wasn’t a simple idea in the air, Rick. Neither a proposal. You win, and you’ll be free of me for a month. I win, and I'll get those five minutes”. Rick bit his lip nervously, rubbing his bushy beard. He debated with himself before turning his gaze on the leader of the Saviors, who had waited. “Only five minutes”. “Honest. No more no less”. “Answer my question, then”. “Oh, of course ! I almost forgot !” Negan exclaimed. “I was a chef in a small restaurant in the area where I lived”. “You're lying”, Rick replied. “I will not dare ! Well, it's true. I’m lying”, the other finally admitted with a falsely shameful air. She carried the bottle to her lips and drunk, leaving the liquid running down her throat. She put the glass bottle on the side and took another. “I was a sport teacher in a school, a baseball teacher”, Negan said.

Rick analyzes her face closed and her lips pinched after saying these words. “Okay, I believe you”, Rick said. “Your turn”. And the evening continued like this, the bottles lined up in front of them, empty. Rick felt the heat rise and his head turned, but the euphoria possessed him. Negan asked more and more difficult questions to answer, but Rick counter-attacked afterwards. That evening, which he expected tense and stressful, appeared rather amusing and relaxing. Two hours had passed. The moon was high in the sky and was illuminating the sleeping little community. The room was filled with the smell of alcohol and their laughter impossible to stop. Negan was tapping the table with her fist, led by a huge laugh after the story Rick had just told her, as he cleaned his tears of laughter. “Damn fucking good, Rick !” Negan puffed by wrapping her sore belly with her arm. “Isn’t it ?” Chuckled Rick. “Oh god ! Okay, my turn,” Negan said, a smile still on her lips. “No. It would be better to stop”. “Shit, Rick. Do you deflate ?” “No. I’m just tired. And then I have a headache”, the concerned complained, placing the bottle half filled to massage his temples with his thumbs. With these words, he stood up and walked to the living-room staggering, feeling now the effects of alcohol. Negan looked at the brown glass bottle in her hand before putting it in her turn, and standing up to follow the other - who had turned off the light too aggressive for his eyes. When the young woman arrived in the next room, she found Rick collapsed on the white leather sofa, one hand on his belly and the other on his eyes. She walked at a wolf's pace, her tongue between her teeth. Leaning over the couch, she could see a sloppy Rick, his hair disheveled and the shirt unbuttoned to reveal his hairy chest. Negan wet his lips, the excitement burning in her chest. She walked around the sofa and lay down on Rick, who grunted beneath her. “What are you doing ?” Rick whispered softly, rubbing his face with his hands before staring at Negan playing with his hair coming out off his shirt. She brought her face close to his, smelling his breath stuffed by the alcohol. Rick's azure eyes were half-open, fogged by fatigue but also by a certain joy. No trace of fear, apprehension or hatred. Was it the effect of alcohol or the man had decided to show his other side ? Negan came out of her thoughts as she felt Rick gently pull the elastic band around her shiny black hair, dropping them cascading in front of her face. He giggled and gently put them back, a smile on his lips. “Is it my fucking mind that plays tricks on me or are you actually falling in love with me ?” Negan scoffed, putting her head in the hollow of his neck, feeling his pulse pulsing against her ear. She inhaled his smell as she heard Rick's grave laugh out of his throat. “It’s you”. “Do you dare lie to me again ?” “Yes. In any case, you will not do anything to me because you’re the one who wants me”. “God damnit, Rick. I love that fucking impetuosity in you”, Negan replied, her finger following the curve of his jaw. Rick gave her a mischievous smile, letting the young woman approach her face to his. Her eyes fastened to his, their ends of their noses touching slightly. “By the way, Rick. You lost”, Negan said, breaking the silence. “Lost ?” “Your bet. You lost it”. “But I didn’t fall dead on the ground”, Rick laughed as he passed his hand over Negan’s neck who rubbed her head against his hand like a feline, enjoying his master's caress. “But you gave up before me”. “You didn’t specify this detail”. “You understood”. “I thought I was stupid ? Wasn’t that what you said before ? Rick ironized. “That means I have the right to my five minutes”, Negan said, ignoring his remark. “So, come on. Go ahead”, Rick murmured. Negan smiled in turn and approached her face, her hand caressing his beard and her eyes contemplating his lips thin and wet. She closed the distance between their lips a little, feeling Rick shudder beneath her. “Excited ?” She blowed. “Kiss me, Negan”. His request took her by surprise, her heart missing a jump. And this excitement in her chest intensified, pushing her to stick her lips on her sisters. The sensation of their lips finally touching made Negan moaned, who surrounded Rick's head with her arms. On four legs above him, she felt Rick's hand resting on her waist, leaving her lips for a moment to breathe, then stick them ferociously. Negan bit his lip hard and felt the hot, harsh liquid seep into her mouth. Rick grunted in pain and bit back. Negan held Rick's shirt firmly in her hands, their blood and their salivas mixing. Her tongue asked for access and soon met her companion. She visited the corners of his mouth, her chest pressing against his torso, making Rick moan. He bringed Negan's body close to his boiling body, his hands kneading on her firm, fleshy butt. She moaned with pleasure in Rick's mouth, which wrapped his tongue with hers to lead a frenzied dance, interspersed at times to recover their difficult and jerky breaths. They parted, their breaths mixing together and their lips separated by a mere two inches. Rick licked the blood on Negan's lips, smiling slyly. “Holy shit, I didn’t know you were so perverse, Rick”, Negan whispered against his lips. “Four minutes”, Rick answered. “Four minutes to devour you”. "Four minutes to devour me“, Rick said, smiling again. Negan's smile widened and decided to attack his throat this time. She laid her lips swollen with desire on his Adam's apple, that had gone up and down again, his mouth letting out a sigh. She ran his throat with feverish kisses, her hand stroking sensually his chest, making Rick shudder. Her fingers pinched his swollen nipples and he let out a loud moan, tightening his grip on her butt. Negan moaned in turn against his skin. She pulled out her tongue, which began to lick his throat stretched backwards. She was now turning his nipples between her forefinger and thumb, biting and sucking his tender skin to leave bright red marks, as if to mark her territory. “Negan.. Three minutes..” The young woman went up to the side of his face, stopping near his ear to nibble his lobe. “Want me, eh ?” Negan whispered warmly as she lowered her hand toward his hardened, well-awakened crotch. “Not at all”. “Naughty liar”. Her hand on his crotch, feeling the man's huge erection, she licked his ear before pressing it into her hand. Rick moaned even harder, bending his back to hurt himself. “Fuck, don’t do that”, he grumbled. “What ? That ?” And Negan repeated her gesture, regaling herself at the sight of Rick swinging his head back, moaning in front of that skillful hand on his crotch. She tied them into another inflamed kiss that Rick answered with difficulty given by her hand gently kneading his crotch. She swallowed her lascivious groans, feeling his tongue sink deep into her mouth, dancing again with her own. She backed away and without giving Rick time to say anything, she went down to his chest where she tore the front of his shirt. She licked her chops and swallowed one of the pink nipples swollen by the succession of waves of pleasure and desire she offered him. Rick swung his head back, hardly bearing the gentle torture she made him undergo. Her hand still kneading his erection, her lips biting, wetting his nipples with her saliva - made him completely mad. And her delightful sounds of sucking in his ears made him forget that it was with Negan with whom he took pleasure, that person who had coldly killed two of his best friends. But he couldn’t lie. She had great effect on him with her slender body and generous breast, her skilful lips and charming eyes, her dirty mocking character and her eager mouth. He wanted all this for himself, just for him. Negan gave a last stroke of tongue to his nipple before going up to his red face, laying a series of kisses on his chest, on his throat, finally dragging him to a last passionate kiss, the last 30 seconds flowing. Their burning kiss ended in a slow, languorous kiss, their bodies matching perfectly like pieces of a puzzle. Negan left his lips and admired his red face with excitement, saliva flowing at the corner of his mouth and sweat pearling on his forehead. His torso went up and down as he tried to resume a steady breath. Negan smiled broadly and laid a little kiss before leaving a distance between their faces, her eyes plunged into Rick's eyes, which she found stunning. “So ? Glad to have lost this fucking bet ?” “I've never been so happy to lose once in my life”, Rick murmured, passing a black wisp behind her ear. “Rick, stop. You’re embarrassing me”, Negan said, falsely embarrassed. And Negan buried her head in the hollow of his neck, getting drunk once again from his natural fragrance. And she closed her eyes, feeling Rick's hand caressing the curve of her back. “Hey, Negan. We’ll redo a bet with an hour as a reward ?” “And you will lose again ?” "You can be sure. I think I got a taste for a lost bet”. A victorious smile crept over Negan's face. She hated to lose, but she had taken a liking to win such a pleasing bet. *** Now that I’m reading it again, I don’t like a lot the result. But still, I had pleasure to do it. So ! What did you thought about this fanfic ? I hope it was good. Thank you for still reading my bad fanfics, have a good day and I hope I’ll see you for the next fanfic !😊💗

[multiplefandomfics]

Grimes sisters chapter 22

And the last one for tonight. i promise the last four are gonna be up soon. thanks for reading so far and I hope for feedback.

Pairings: Daryl x Alex; Negan x Fabienne

Warnings: angst, pregnancy, death

Words: 2246

Fabienne POV

When I stepped out of the shower I got scared to death by a bloody Negan standing in the middle of the bedroom. “What happened? Are you hurt?” I took a step forward to check for wounds. He just pulled back and smiled. “I’m fine. It’s not my blood. We got into some trouble with a few walkers but nothing I couldn’t handle. And it was worth it, we found more stuff. Food and medicine.” he told me. Then Negan shrugged his dirty leather jacket off and hung it on a chair. I noticed his white T-shirt being blood spattered as well “Come on I’ll take that to the cleaning room.” and extended my hand. But before I could grab his clothes he gripped my arm, pulled me unbelievably close and stared into my eyes. Just before our lips met he whispered insistently “I’m not gonna let you go out like that! You belong to me so no one is allowed to see you like that!” I looked down on myself and realized my state of undress only in a towel. Then he kissed me tenderly. Oh, how much I loved his soft lips. “i would have put on clothes before going out. I don’t like them ogling me either.” I smirked and he also started smiling. “I’m gonna call for Dwight to get the laundry.” he said while walking past me to the bathroom and threw his shirt at me. I caught it playfully laughing. About half an hour later there was a knock at the door and when I opened I saw Dwight staring bluntly at me. Only a second later and a kinda confused look from me shook him from his thoughts “I’m supposed to get something from here?” I nodded and retrieved the dirty clothes. Sometimes I really pity him. Negan seemed to shoo him around a lot but on the other hand he wasn’t doing anything against it so it was kinda his own fault. When I pushed the laundry into his hands I suddenly heard Negan deeply clearing his throat. “Why are you ogling at my girl like that?” he grumbled and I rolled my eyes at his alpha male behavior even though his possessiveness was kinda hot. “Sorry, boss.” Dwight excused himself and was gone as fast as he had arrived.

Silently I closed the door and turned to Negan “You don’t have to be jealous. I just want you, you know?” I hugged his waist and kissed him passionately.

The rest of the evening was quiet. Occasionally I tried to find out how his day had been and what exactly he had been up to but he mostly stayed silent.

Exactly like everyday I was working in the gardens. As I watered the potatoes and tomatoes I was involuntarily a witness to a conversation between Simon and Negan. “I don’t think that they will have gathered enough for us already after that short amount of time. Isn’t it better to wait a bit longer?” Simon was reasoning with my boyfriend.  Then I saw Negan’s face turn sour and I knew he was close to exploding and his voice sounded threatening when he said “When I say we will go on the tour again tomorrow than we are doing just that. It’s been three weeks they should have had enough time to find more shit for us! Is that understood?”

Intrigued I kept on listening even though I had no clue what this actually was all about.

Maybe it had something to do with the day he came home all bloody and maybe that had not been from killing walkers. After that day he had been a bit more closed up even to me and didn’t have a lot of time for me either. The pressure had seemed to grow on him. But every time I had asked him what was bothering him he had brushed it off. The more nosy I got listening in on the dispute.

I decided to follow the group the next day on their way wherever they were headed.

Unnoticed I drove behind them with a car I had borrowed leaving a lot of space between us because there weren’t many driving cars around anymore. They came to a stop in front of a massive gate so I parked my vehicle by the side of the road and caught up to them by foot. As I came closer I saw high walls and guard towers that reminded me of the prison I had once lived in with my family. Did he have a second community? I was very interested what was going on there so I stayed and watched. The gate wasn’t opened immediately but when I suddenly recognized the figure standing on the watch tower by the gate to be my brother Rick, I almost fainted in surprise. My heart hammered in my chest and I pushed down the urge to run forward. “We are hear to collect whats ours!” I heard Negan say and Rick looked really on edge. Collect whats ours? That confused me a bit. Was he blackmailing them? But with what? He told me that they had found the supplies themselves. While I was still confused about the circumstances under which they had gained the supplies, the gate opened and Negan and the group rolled through. Then I couldn’t see Rick anymore. He had probably gone down and to be able to listen in again I inched closer. Suddenly my  breath caught in my throat. Behind Rick I could see Alex and then Daryl. My family had made it too. How are the odds of this? For a second I thought to run over to hug them but a sudden nauseous feeling forced me to turn around and puke into the forest a few times.

The minute I felt better I wanted to execute my plan but when I turned back around the gate was closed again and the saviors where inside. Damn it!

I waited for quite some time until I jolted up when I heard a shot ring through the quiet. What happened? I hoped that no one had been shot or worse killed. But I was also very scared that they were gonna leave soon and see me or the car by the side of the road so I decided to make my way back already and maybe come back whenever I was able to sneak out. But I went with a heavy heart. Leaving my family behind again was really tough.

After I had arrived back I decided to lay down because my stomach was still bothering me. Maybe I had caught a bug or something. Unfortunately when I woke up after a small nap I still felt terrible so I went to our doctor. Knocking at the door I held my belly and then heard a “come in!” so I opened the door and stepped inside. “Oh, hello Fabienne. What brings you to me?” our doc asked while I laid down. “Well I haven’t felt really good over the past few days and today I’m really nauseous and  then I threw up a few times. I pushed it on the stress and excitement I had but now I think something could be wrong.” I told him. He started with an ultrasound from the stomach but found nothing abnormal there. “So your stomach seems fine but maybe we should consider this too.” with those words he handed me a pregnancy test. I hadn’t thought about that possibility yet. It couldn’t be… or could it? I needed to know so I took the test and while we waited for the result my thoughts were racing 100 miles per minute. Was Negan gonna be angry or sad? Would he want the baby or not? When the 10 minutes had passed the doc reached for the test and I nervously awaited his words. “Congratulations Fabienne. You are indeed pregnant.” shocked I looked at him and then at the test and back. I was pregnant? I had foreseen anything but that! A baby? Here? In this world? I mean sure Lori had had Judith but what did she get out of that? She had died giving birth. I was petrified that something like that was gonna happen to me too. But me and a baby? And Negan? “Please don’t tell Negan!” I begged our doc. “medical confidentiality.” he just answered and just motioned that his lips were sealed. That was a relief but then I had to think about how to tell him about this. In thought I strolled back to our room and let myself fall back on the bed staring at the ceiling. How was he gonna react? We had never talked about starting a family. I couldn’t estimate his reaction at all.

Rick POV

The weeks after Negan had left had been quiet. I had been sitting on my porch when my name was suddenly called and my presence demanded at the gate. I gave Judith to Carl and they went inside. My happy mood was destroyed when I saw that it was Negan demanding entrance. We had had just enough supplies to get by ourselves and now he wanted to take them from us again? But I couldn’t risk anyone else dying so I ordered the gates to be opened. Negan strode over to me with hat arrogant smile and confident posture. It was disgusting. “We haven’t found much since you’ve last been here. We need to stay afloat ourselves!” I told him but he stayed the sarcastic asshole he was playing with his bat. “I don’t care! Anything’s better than nothing. The next time you just have to be more thorough.” he said dryly. I hated him so much. In my old life he would have been behind bars a long time ago. His men looked through our houses and took everything they wanted and we just stood by and watched. It felt emasculating. But we couldn’t jump in we would have pulled the short straw.

Then Daryl came close and I saw that his patience was wearing thin. Suddenly he aimed his crossbow at one of the guys temple. “Daryl!” I warned him but he kept going “These assholes want to take our last bit of food and medicine. They already have more than enough!” he was really angry. “Well well Daryl.. take the bow down.” Negan demanded playfully. It seemed like this was all a game to him so Daryl spun around and then his target was Negan’s head. Damn it what was he doing? I knew he wanted to save our supplies but this heated behavior was only gonna make matters worse. “Daryl. Put it down!” I demanded now and even Alex had come closer to try and calm him. “You fucking bastard!” Daryl yelled at him and the second he had pulled the trigger one of Negan’s guys had jumped in and kicked the bow to the side so the bolt landed inside a tree trunk. “Holy shit! Were you fucking trying to kill me? Seriously!?!?” Negan was furious then. All of a sudden he turned toward the guy who had probably saved his life and said “Kill some one. Anyone!” he looked around, took out his gun and shot…. A second later Denise fell dead to the ground.” I was speechless and then the anger arose in my throat and I wanted to strangle him. “You’re gonna pay for that...” out of my peripheral vision I could see some of the others holding Tara back. Denise had been her girlfriend and she was naturally hotheaded but who would have blamed her in that situation? Negan just laughed and then left with most of our supplies.

“You will lose! See you next time!” Negan yelled out of his truck and showed us the finger.

“Damn it Daryl! What did you think? I wanna aim a gun at his head too but that gets people killed...” “then why dontcha?” he interrupted me. “We’re workin’ our balls off and he comes parading in here stealing everything! We need to find a way to defeat him!” angrily he stormed off-.

I knew he was right. We needed to find a solution for the problem that was Negan.

I retrieved a sheet and spread it over Denise body. Tara was still by her side sobbing. Then I shoveled a grave so we could bury her. I second loss in such a short time period. It was terrifying. Negan definitely had no scruples. We bury Denise with everyone who wanted to be there and some of them said a few words. “He’s blaming himself for Denise’s death.” Alex told me and I was sure she meant Daryl. I hugged her to my side “It’s not his fault. Negan would have killed someone anyways. He was just searching for a reason. Give Daryl some time.” I tried to encourage her.

“I can’t find him.” she mumbled. I knew when Daryl had those phases he wanted to be left alone. Often he went out to kill a few biters or hunt. “He’s probably gonna be back tonight then I will talk to him.” I promised her. I embraced her deeply and thought to myself that I was gonna find a way to make things right for us again.

[theresnosafeharbor4myships]

written for my Caryl secret santa: Caryl, back in the good ol’ days <3

Sweet Exchange (also on 9L)

The last of the leaves falling from the trees and the chill setting in their bones told them winter had officially arrived, and with it, Christmas. Celebrating holidays hadn’t occurred to them amidst the running and fighting and scavenging and surviving, but with things finally settling down and the Woodbury lot talking about Christmas being a few days away, the prison was abuzz with the idea of a party.

It’d taken some getting used to, having people around again—and especially ones nearly incapable of protecting themselves—but their small family had slowly opened up. The groups had begun working together, and they’d started construction on a covered outdoor mess hall, prepping the yard for spring planting, building a corral for the animals they intended to have, and going on runs to help provide for the group-at-large.

Daryl had returned from one of those runs not two days ago. He liked being out on the road, preferred it actually, but there was something to be said for having a place to come home to. And home it had become. Not because of the place, though having walls and some semblance of security helped, but because of the people waiting for him, depending on him, welcoming him back.

Still, he found the sheer number of them stifling sometimes. The noise and problems, chatter and complaints, company and neediness, the need to fill quiet spaces with unnecessary words…it all exhausted him, and he often excused himself when too many gathered around.

Like now.

He rubbed his hands together in an attempt to garner warmth. Guard duty had become nearly unbearable after the sun set, but he only had himself to blame since he’d offered to stay on watch while everyone else enjoyed the Christmas festivities.

He cupped his hands around his mouth, breathing hot air onto them before shoving them back into his pockets and scanning the grounds below. The night was dead, and not just because of the handful of walkers roaming the horizon. The air stung, the temperature much too frigid for anything living to want to encroach on their territory. Still, he kept his eyes peeled, even as he wondered what the merry-making inside looked like.

Was Rick wearing that dumb elf hat with the big ears on it that Michonne had found in a storage closet last week? Was Carl pretending Judy was the baby in the manger again? Was Beth leading the group in a round of Christmas carols? Was Carol decorating that wimpy Peanuts-style Christmas tree that Glenn had dragged in? Was she keeping warm? Maybe wearing that red sweater she’d claimed that made her eyes shine like stars and her cheeks look extra rosy? Was she smiling at the kids’ antics? Rocking Judith to sleep? Was she chatting it up with that guy, Greg, the one he’d noticed gravitating towards her lately? Did she enjoy the man’s company? Did she even miss his presence, notice he wasn’t around?

He shook his head, clearing away the frustrating thought that she might not even have noticed his absence, and focused on the yard around and far below him.

It’s not like he had any claim to her. Sure, they’d paired up last winter, after they’d lost the farm, but only because nearly everyone else had someone to keep warm with. She’d started flirting with him then, causing his cheeks to flush and his mind to go numb until an unimpressive ‘stahp’ was all he could muster. She’d mustered all the strength she had and hugged him fiercely after he’d found her in that tomb, nearly gone with dehydration, and he’d silently gulped in air, his breath sucked away by the adrenaline still boiling from his frantic pacing a few minutes before and the debilitating relief that he’d found her alive. He hadn’t realized until that moment how much he’d come to care for her, and it scared the shit out of him. And after that…when he’d ditched them because he couldn’t escape his past, he’d known deep down she’d forgive him for traipsing off with Merle, even as the fear that she wouldn’t gnawed at him. But she had—and had even welcomed him and the jackass back into their fold.

He heart seized at the memory of Merle’s walker stumbling towards him. Had it really only been a month ago? A month since he’d ended the dead thing wearing Merle’s face? A month since he’d returned to the prison—where he belonged, he’d stubbornly told Merle—shuffling through the gate and finding his way to Carol? Since she’d taken one look at his expression and let a small “oh” out on a breath before eating up the distance between them and wrapping her arms around his neck? He’d nearly resisted the embrace, arrogant enough to believe he could hide his grief and handle it without the support of someone who cared about him, but the words he’d mumbled to Merle—can’t do things without people anymore, man—rang in his ears, and he dropped his head onto her shoulder and silently wept. If anyone in their group understood the emotions roiling through him, the bitterness and anger, the gratitude followed by the shame, the hatred and relief, the agony of it all, Carol would.

He swallowed hard against the sadness that still came over him in waves. Carol knew, better than anyone he’d ever met. She empathized but didn’t make excuses for him, called things as she saw them. And saw the man he’d become without his older brother casting that menacing shadow he’d never been able to shake until her.

She intrigued him, this woman who’d suffered her own abuses and come out the better side of it, so different from him. Kind and sweet and strong as hell, where he’d become silent, bitter, and defensive. He’d tried to fight it, attempted to remain indifferent, but he craved her presence. Felt drawn to her in a way that made his heart beat fast and his breath catch in his throat.

And instead of sitting inside celebrating a Charlie Brown Christmas with her, he’d offered to freeze to death alone. What an ass.

He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, his left hand finding the small trinket he’d left there and turning it over and over in his palm.

He’d happened upon it a few days ago. He and Michonne had searched for the Governor for two weeks before returning to the prison. On the way home, they’d discovered a small group of farm houses tucked into a grove they’d never discovered before. A small community belonging to a long-gone religious sect, if he had to guess. They’d made quick work of scavenging and had come away with a few useful items. And he with the small gift in his pocket.

He’d paused when he’d first seen it, shocked that something so perfect existed, then snatched it up and hidden it away before Michonne noticed and set about teasing him. She ribbed him relentlessly, and something about making him blush amused her. He didn’t need to give her any more ammo for her arsenal.

“Hey, you ready to go inside?”

He peered over the watchtower bars to see Ty staring up at him. “Party all done?”

“Mostly. Kids have gone to bed, and everyone else was headed that way when I left.” Ty started climbing the staircase. “You missed a lot of good fun in there.”

Daryl didn’t feel a need to respond. The dour mood he’d set himself in only had sarcastic remarks, and Ty didn’t deserve to be on the end of his self-pity trip.

“We left you some dinner,” Ty told him as he reached the landing. “Still warm too, I think.”

“Thanks.” Daryl passed his machine gun to Ty and grabbed up his crossbow, slinging the worn strap across his chest. “Stay warm; it’s only gonna get colder before morning,” he predicted as he started down the stairs.

“I’m gonna try.”

Daryl ambled toward the cell block, trying to shake away the darkness that had settled in his mind, but too much time alone, in his own head, with his morbid thoughts—and all because he preferred playing the outcast—had soured his mood and left his heart feeling cold.

As if he weren’t freezing already.

He hurried inside to warm up, hoping everyone had dispersed and he could eat his dinner in peace.

He closed the cell block door, effectively shutting the biting air outside, and made his way to the dining area. Red, silver, and gold baubles and garland graced the wimpy tree in the corner, nearly weighing it down with their joviality, and a few shreds of string and what had likely been gift wrapping still littered the floor. Laughter rang down the halls, taunting him in his loneliness, and suddenly the thought of eating dinner alone surrounded by sights of the season didn’t seem so appealing.

Heaving a sigh, he ignored the cheery, intermittent voices from the cell blocks and headed to the stove. He poured himself a cup of warm coffee and snagged some of the turkey jerky he’d made and a small can of fruit before heading toward his cell.

The main room stood empty, the low voices he’d heard coming from sheet-covered cells throughout the block. The noise would drown out any sound he made, but he still walked carefully, not in the mood to encounter any straggling partiers.

He’d nearly made it to his cell when Carol popped her head out of her room and spotted him. “There you are! I’ve been looking for you!”

In your cell? he wondered despondently, nodding noncommittally in response.

“I was just bundling up to come find you.”

Daryl stopped outside of his room as she moved towards him, wearing one of the winter jackets and a scarf they’d pilfered. “Couldn’t find my gloves. But now that you’re here….mind if I join you?”

She had noticed him missing from the party…and had set out to find him? He felt a fluttering in his belly. At least she wasn’t spending the rest of the evening with Greg.

Suddenly her hand was on his arm. “You okay?” she asked, looking concerned.

It don’t mean nothin’ special. Shake it off, Dixon, he scolded himself. Act like a normal human being for once. “Yeah. Just cold.”

“Well, let’s get you warmed up. Mind if I sit with you for a while?”

He shook his head in response, too overcome with images of her helping him get warm to form words.

She pulled back the curtain covering his cell, and he dipped inside with her right behind him. Flipping on the small lamp and leaning against the desk, he motioned towards the bed, offering her the more comfortable seat, but she shook her head. “You’ve been on guard duty for hours. You get comfy and relax.”

“You sure?”

She smiled sweetly at him, nodding, and he moved to the bed, setting his coffee cup on the ground at his feet as she turned the desk chair around to face him. He placed his crossbow in the corner by his bed and slipped out of his jacket, leaving it pooled around him as he sat.

Carol removed her scarf and heavy coat and draped them over the back of the chair as she plopped down. Her proximity made him nervous, and though he didn’t want her to leave, he didn’t exactly want her so close—only a few feet away—with the curtain sealing them off from others. It made his heart thunder wildly in his chest, his thoughts run rampant. With the others around, he found it easier to act indifferent; hell, he wouldn’t be able to handle the ridicule if they knew how desperately he craved her, how often she occupied his thoughts, so he played it safe and kept it cool. But when they were alone—and that had started to happen more and more frequently—he felt sure she could read his thoughts, hear his heartbeat running fast. It was dangerous to have her so close. And yet so far, he reminded himself.

“Did you see our tree?” she asked, merriment on her face. “The kids went crazy when they saw the decorations Michonne and Glenn brought out. They almost knocked it over a few times, all of them trying to decorate at once.”

He didn’t trust himself to speak without sounding harsher than necessary, so he harrumphed in response, giving a small nod, and started eating the turkey jerky.

“Carl wanted to sing, so he and Beth led everyone in some songs, but when Carl started Jingle Bells with ‘Jingle bells, Batman smells,’ Rick called it quits.”

He granted her an amused look but otherwise remained quiet and continued munching.

You’re an idiot, he scolded himself. She’s been running miles around that race track in your mind for hours. Now she’s here in front of you, no one else around, and you clam up like you got lockjaw.

He glanced up at her and saw that his silence had subdued her mood.

Why can’t you act halfway decent?

“Hershel read the Christmas story,” she continued with a bit less enthusiasm. “And we let the kids open their gifts…mainly books from the library, and the chalk and the puzzles you brought back the other day.”

He shrugged one shoulder. “Was nothin’.” Her intense stare made him want to fidget, but he willed himself to refrain.

“It meant the world to the kids. It’s not gonna be often…if ever...that we get to open gifts again,” she explained softly. “It lifted everyone’s spirits.”

He gave a small nod and started gnawing on the inside of his lip, unsure how to handle her praise. He felt comfortable in front of walkers and with weapons, but kind words from this slip of a woman with the bright blue eyes and he melted, powerless, like snow in the sun. Slowly, ever so slowly, she was thawing him out.

Her talk of gifts reminded him of the one in his pocket. He’d meant to wrap it, to wait until she was on guard duty and leave it on her bed or perhaps tuck it into her hands before he set out on the next scheduled run, but something in this moment prodded him.  Give it to her…now or never, he told himself. Just ‘cause you’re an ass doesn’t mean you gotta keep bein’ one.

Setting his snacks aside and avoiding her gaze, he fumbled around with his jacket, trying to find the pocket with her gift in it. “I, uh…” He cleared his throat. “I got somethin’ for you. For Christmas.” He withdrew a fisted hand from his jacket. “Didn’t….get a chance to wrap it.”

He raised his eyes to see her staring at him in wonder. “Ain’t much,” he mumbled, holding his hand out towards her.

She cupped her hands together beneath his, and he watched her as he placed the gift into her hands. A panoply of expressions crossed her face: surprise, happiness, excitement, anticipation. Holding the jewelry in one hand, she picked up one of the pieces with the other. “Oh, Daryl,” she breathed.

The large stud earrings had creamy-white pearlescent petals with a tiny golden center, and silver rimmed the edges, giving them a regal appearance.

“Cherokee rose. I just thought…well…it’s—”

He stopped stuttering when she abruptly moved from the chair and sat down next to him, but before he could speak again she leaned toward him and slipped her arms around his neck.

“Thank you,” she whispered near his ear, hugging him close.

He froze in place, her touch burning his skin, her scent, light and floral, overpowering his senses, her breath sending shivers down his spine. His heart staccatoed against his ribcage, and he felt certain they could hear it in the next cell block.

She was going to kill him long before he’d ever gather the courage to tell her how he felt  

He slid his arms around her, tentatively holding her like he’d done not so long ago. That hug—borne out of relief and desperation, he knew—had surprised him, but since it’d been a matter of life and death, he understood it. This…this felt entirely different. Full of gratitude, happiness, and a sort of intimacy he couldn’t help but both crave and fear.

“They’re beautiful,” she enthused as she withdrew, looking at the earrings in her hand like they were diamonds. “Cherokee roses...” She met his gaze, and for a moment he thought she might cry. “Thank you.”

“You remembered,” he murmured.

“I could never forget. It was the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me. And...I saw the one out on the grave...” she admitted quietly.

He felt the twitch of his eye, his tell of discomfort when someone got too close, and looked away. “Thought you were gone.”

He heard the sadness in his tone, felt his heart clench at the memory of almost losing her. Of finding her. Of bringing her back to the group and having her with him, with them, again.

She covered his hand with one of her own. “I know,” she whispered.

“Didn’t know how else…to pay my respects. Didn’t know how else to say goodbye. I was so angry that we lost… We went lookin’ for you…after we found T, found Lori. I didn’t want you to…be one of them or, or stay one of them. I couldn’t…it’d already been a few days and I couldn’t leave you like that.”

He saw the forgotten scarf on the ground, the knife she’d used to defend herself. Recalled how he’d jammed that knife over and over again into the floor, the wall, hoping to release some of emotions threatening to spill over. He hadn’t meant to tell her how he’d discovered her hiding place, but now that he’d started he couldn’t stop.

“I found a walker with your knife in its neck, and…I hated the thought of you down there by yourself, tryin’ to find a way out, fightin’ them things by yourself.” He shook his head, his eyes full of fire and hurt and miles away. “I made them leave me down there….in the tombs. I…after losing T and Lori, with Rick head-sick, and me tryin’ to keep everyone alive and make sure Asskicker had food, I…I couldn’t take it anymore. I made them leave me alone. Wallowin’ like a damn fool when they all needed me… I worked myself up to be able to…to put you down if I had to. We promised, and I would have, but…”

“But you found me. You brought me back.” Carol ducked her head trying to meet his gaze, and he finally met her eyes, coming back to the present. “Thank you…for saving me. For finding me.” She reached up and brushed his hair away from his eyes. “For the Cherokee roses that’ve given me strength and hope. And now I get to keep them…keep you…with me always.”

His heart seized in his chest, and he thought he might’ve stopped breathing for a moment. He stared at her, her words washing over him like a healing balm. She couldn’t mean what she’d said…could she? He’d used the rose to lend her hope when she’d lost it; now she was using it to bind them together. How she could do that, could turn the moment from maudlin to miraculous in a few heartbeats, left him speechless.

He cleared his throat, breaking the tension that crackled in the air, and he felt time snap back into place.

She held his gaze as she put the earrings on. “I love them,” she declared. She turned her head from side to side, showcasing them. “How do they look?”

He couldn’t help staring. In the dim light of his lamp, she looked soft and inviting, her smile blazing brightly at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “They’re perfect,” he breathed.

Carol covered his hand with one of hers. “Thank you,” she said softly, her words heavy. “I have something for you too.”

He furrowed his brow as she moved to her jacket and rifled through its folds. She glanced at him once conspiratorially before withdrawing a package wrapped crudely in soft leather and tied with a string. “Here.” She proffered the package to him, returning to her seat next to him on the bed.

Daryl swallowed hard, entirely unprepared for this exchange. It’d taken all of his willpower to give the earrings to her. But to know she’d thought of him too, had prepared and wrapped a gift, and had it in her pocket as she’d set out to find him tonight meant he’d been right: he was an ass for avoiding their first Christmas.

He untied the string and peeled back the cloth to reveal a coiled piece of leather. “What is it?” he murmured as he unwound it. The leather strap had a familiar-looking connecting piece at each end, and he realized he held a new, better version of a crossbow sling.

“I know you said yours was giving out,” Carol explained. “And I want to make sure you stay safe.”

“How did you…?” He trailed off in wonder, noting “D I X O N” emblazoned across the middle of the strap.

“That guy, Greg…? He’s a leather craftsmen. When I found out, I asked him to help me. We’ve been working on it for a few weeks; just finished today. I wanted to give you something nice. You do so much for us, for all of us, I wanted to do a little something special for you.”

He stared at the sling, unable to meet her gaze, his mind spinning. Useful, practical, and something she’d come up with on her own…she’d helped handcraft a personalized gift for him? ‘I want to make sure you stay safe,’ she’d said, but walkers were the least of his worries. She’d disarmed him with gentle words, kind eyes, sweet smiles, and tender touches. He’d fallen prey to her willful spirit, her fierce loyalty, her fathomless heart. She’d captured him as a wounded animal, angry, biting, bitter, and full of scorn, and softly, gently, methodically wooed him to her. And he didn’t care that he was her prisoner.

“Carol…”

The jealousy he’d felt as he’d watched her with Greg the past few weeks turned into embarrassment, and he thanked the heavens she couldn’t read his thoughts. He felt sheepish knowing she’d spent time with Greg because she’d been working on a gift for him. He really was an ass.

“This is…perfect.” He finally raised his head to meet her eyes, and as relief washed over her face, he realized how long he’d sat silent.

“I’m glad you like it. Should be the same length as the original; hopefully it fits right.”

He gazed at her, in awe of the compassionate, fiery, powerful force of nature before him. “Thank you.” He imbued the words with all of the sentiments he didn’t know how to voice yet.

Carol’s face broke into an understanding smile. “Merry Christmas, Daryl.”

He nodded. “Merry Christmas.”