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sheriffgrimes-archerdixon · 9 months

Note

hii!!

could you do one where daryl and rick are like father figures to the reader? she goes to try to kill negan instead of carl and when she gets back rick and daryl are really mad and she gets into an argument with them?

that’s it!!🩷

Hi! Thank you so much for the request!!! 🖤🧟‍♀️💕

A/N: it’s been like MONTHS since I’ve written so sorry for literally disappearing, but thank you all for the love! Love you all. Sorry for how long this took to get out… but I’m finally finishing it at like 1am after so many weeks… so please excuse any spelling errors! Tysm. I adore all of you xx

Rick + daryl x fem! Reader (reader is 19)

Trigger warnings: argument, zombie stuff, gore, usual twd stuff. If any of it discomforts you please read at your own discretion!

Pinky promise

You knew it was a dangerous mistake. You shouldn’t of been so ambitious. But Negan deserved death and you believed you could kill him… but it all became clear that it was a mistake. You had made a dangerous and incredibly stupid decision and you knew as soon as you got home Rick and Daryl would certainly have a go at you if not kill you then and there for being so reckless. You knew you were absolutely insane for doing something so unthinkable but Negan had to die. Rick was taking his sweet time and Negan was just going to get stronger, and that scared you, so you wanted to take it into your own hands and kill the man yourself…

And so here you were gun in hand, pointing it at the clear sheet covering the back of the truck your finger trembling slightly as you waited for the voices to get closer. “There isn’t enough in the truck, we’ll have to go out again. Get more supplies and shit. Alexandria is so big yet they can’t even supply us enough shit.” “Yeah… don’t know why Negan won’t just kill them all. That way we can actually have a good home…” the voices spoke back and forth and you tightened your hold on the gun jaw clenched tightly watching as the blurry figures got closer and as a hand poked in through the clear sheet you pulled the trigger bullets spitting out as the men began shouting, followed by multiple ‘thuds’ proving you had killed a few of the bastards, you continued shooting, even as you jumped out of the truck the bullets flying around mercilessly- some saviours dropping to the floor, dead, and others just falling for the sake of their lives. Your eyes were narrowed as you breathed heavily your teeth slightly gritted together before suddenly a body shoved against yours, Dwight knocking you down onto your back, your gun falling from your hand as you groaned out glaring at the man. “Y/n….” A voice sung out, mockingly and your eyes snapped to meet with Negans. His hazel eyes gleamed with amusement, Lucille lightly hung over his shoulder as he grinned at you “didn’t I get my point across to you before that I really do not appreciate my people being killed…” he spoke your eyes narrowing as you scowled at him. He was a rotten bastard and deserved to be knocked down a peg or two, and so that’s why you abruptly tried to grab your gun again only for Dwight to kick it out of the way “not so fast” he muttered glaring down at you, Negan staring at you the amusement seemingly growing further and further before he exhaled

“I like you, you don’t mess around do you? You just do… I like that…” he smirked before stopping just in front of you holding his hand out for you to take “you’ve actually got balls… unlike someone else we know.” He spoke that stupid fucking grin remaining on his face and you just glared hoping to punch his teeth in, but instead you reached out, grabbing his outstretched hand before he leaned back pulling you up with his movement as you got onto your feet your eyes boring into his with anger “we were planning on heading to Alexandria today so you’re in luck. I’ll get you home safely.” “Rick isn’t home. He’s out.” You spoke, that wasn’t the truth, rick was at home but you didn’t want to see him… not when you know he will indefinitely be beyond mad at you. “Oh isn’t he? How disappointing. Guess I’ll have to wait around with you then huh?” And that’s when you realised just how much you had screwed up… Negan wasn’t going to kill you because he knew that Rick was going to get angry at you… “god dammit…” you whispered under your breath, Negan smiling still before he turned around “c’mon. Follow me. I’ll give you a tour of the sanctuary…” and so that’s exactly what happened, you were shown around, introduced to a few scary people and then given some food much to your surprise… it was odd. Being looked after for by your friends’ killer. It made you feel sick but what made you feel even sicker was what was happening right now… you were sat in the truck beside Negan, driving down the familiar road leading to Alexandria. Your heart was drumming in your chest your face pale and lips slightly parted… you were in deep shit and you knew it.

Breathing soon became nonexistent, your lips slightly parted eyes wide as you watched multiple people on outpost begin to shout… oh dear god. Heavy breaths slowly left your lips your eyes filled with complete fear… sure Daryl being angry at you was enough but Rick too- you couldn’t handle both of their wrath’s. You didn’t even want to experience it but you knew you were going to experience it. “Are you coming into to talk to them?” You soon asked glancing at the man, his hands which were warmed by the leather gloves he wore squeezed at the steering wheel and he grinned at you soon shoving his foot onto the brakes the truck coming to a screeching halt just in front of the gates leading into Alexandria “nah, kid. That isn’t my shit to do. You pulled a stupid fuckin’ decision and now you’re gonna face the consequences. I told you I don’t ap-“ “appreciate you killing my men I know.” You cut him off glaring into his eyes the man looking somewhat impressed before he raised his brows “at least you can learn.” He chuckled out looking forwards as the gate was slowly pulled open “go on then, your friends are waiting.” He spoke and you looked to the gate as well seeing Rick, hands on his hips, jaw tightly clenched and eyes a sea of worry. You glanced back to Negan knowing he wasn’t going to help before you pushed the door open only for the asshole to grab your wrist forcing you to stop “you not gonna thank me for bringing you home safe and sound?” He asked with a cocky grin and you glared at him “thank. you.” You spat out through gritted teeth and he smirked “you’re welcome.”

You then jumped out of the truck before storming towards the gate of Alexandria your eyes landing on Rick and a very infuriated yet terrified looking Daryl but you ignored them- you didn’t want to deal with their anger right now. “Y/n where the hell have you been?” Rick asked, hands remaining on his hips his eyes practically piercing into your soul yet you refused to speak or even look at him because well… let’s face it… he was terrifying. “Y/n where the hell do ya think you’re goin’ huh?” Daryl soon asked gruffly and you glanced at him “home. You wanna give me a lecture. Fine. But not in front of everyone.” You snapped, both men sharing a look, as if questioning whether you had really just used that tone with them but nonetheless they followed after you, you attempted to slam the front door but Rick was quick to catch it before it could latch “cut that attitude out right now, y/n.” Rick spoke calmly his body language however far from calm “I don’t understand why you’re both so unhappy! Jesus Christ can’t I try and help out!” Rick and Daryl stood side by side shoulders brushing against each other and Rick tilted his head slightly “do you realise how incredibly foolish it was to go out there and do… whatever you did… do you?” He raised his brows his blue eyes piercing into your soul and you rolled your eyes “ah ah, no, y/n, eyes on me.” He demanded and you looked at him “you aren’t hearing me- you could’ve been killed. What you did was very stupid. Irresponsible.” He spoke and you glared into his eyes “well I wasn’t! I’m here- am I not? I’m fine!” Daryl then took a step forwards “enough. It doesn’t matter whether you’re fine or not. What matters is the fact that you pulled some stupid death wish shit…” his eyes searched yours before he shook his head “it was stupid. You might’ve been helping or thinking you were helping… but what would we do if Negan brought back your dead body huh?” Daryl asked and you looked away, uncomfortable at that question, because you knew there was no right answer to such a question

“What did you do?” He soon asked and you looked back at him “machine gunned down a bunch of his men.” You murmured shamefully as you looked down, Daryl almost unresponsive whereas Rick was immediately pinching the bridge of his nose his eyes squeezed shut before he exhaled loudly showing his pure discomfort of the entire situation “oh my god…” he squeezed his eyes shut even more before looking at you “how irresponsible are you? Are you unaware of the fact that Negan has killed many people from this community?” Ricks tone was dangerous, frustrated, bordering on the line of anger and protectiveness “what do I have to do to get it through to you that we’re working together to make this safe! We’re doing everything we can y/n,” “no we aren’t! What about the lives we promised we’d get justice for! Have they just all gone down the drain?! We can’t just keep up this bullshit! Either he dies or we die! He’s overpowering us Rick! We need to do som-“ Rick soon held his hand up at you “no! Don’t you-“ “y/n. You’re getting ahead of yourself.” The man reminded you and you breathed heavily your eyes rage full Daryl moving behind you as he slowly rubbed up and down your back trying to sooth you yet your whole body felt as if it was on fire “we get that you want to protect us and this community but-“ “no! It isn’t just that Rick! It isn’t! I want to get- I- I want…” your voice cracked as your heart began to slowly split into pieces ricks expression softening, sure he had seen you open up before but not like this… he hadn’t seen you like this often… nor had Daryl- it surprised both men. “Tell me.” Rick spoke taking a step forwards this time, as he slowly reached a hand out resting his hand atop of your shoulder “I-…. I…” Rick remained silent searching your eyes allowing you to take your time watching as your face contorted in all ways imaginable the anguish, pain and fear slowly creeping up on you “he killed Glenn! He killed Abraham! He killed our friends! Shouldn’t we be trying to kill him! He killed Glenn! He killed-… he killed the guy who saved your dumbass!” You yelled shoving his hand off of your shoulder, ricks expression showing the pain, he hadn’t fully healed- in fact he hadn’t healed at all. He hadn’t allowed himself to grieve anyone’s deaths but especially Glenn’s. Or Abraham’s. He was too busy being a leader. Too busy taking care of his people.

“Y/n we can’t change that… I’m sorry… but we can’t… but what we can’t change either is the fact that if you died we would’ve lost a key part of Alexandria…-“ “we’ve already lost a key part!” Your voice cracked and Daryl stared at you “you’re both bullshit! I can take care of myself! Why don’t you think I can’t take care of myself?!” Your voice grew angrier before you ran off upstairs Rick running a hand over his face and Daryl just watching you run off “don’t go after her…” he shook his head “let her cool off. And you cool off too” Rick spoke and Daryl nodded knowing he was right. He needed to calm down… if he didn’t he would’ve said something he regretted.

A couple of minutes passed- maybe five, or even ten, before Daryl was sent up to console you. You didn’t even hear him come in but you felt the bed dip down before you heard his soft breathing “I did what I thought was best.” You spoke more softly and Daryl nodded “I know… but it was also…” “stupid I know… don’t need to tell me again…” you murmured softly and Daryl exhaled softly “you know we just care about you. That’s why we’re so worried about you… you matter to us.” His hand rubbed up and down your back slowly and gently as you remained curled up in a ball arms wrapped around yourself weakly his touch soft and caring, his rough calloused hands rough against your skin but you didn’t care. He was comforting you… that’s all that really mattered.

“I just-… why do you keep treating me like a damn child?” You asked clearly upset about that and Daryl frowned slightly his stern features growing more soft as he saw the true confusion and frustration in your eyes “because we’ve lost people, Y/n…. Glenn, Abraham, Sophia, Dale, Hershel, Merle, Olivia… too many people to count..” he fell silent before speaking again not allowing you to say anything “and we can’t lose someone else. The stakes are set high. I wouldn’t know what to do if I lost you, Y/n. Rick wouldn’t either… today was stupid… sure you did what you thought was best but it was a little bit silly… but there’s always room for improvement” your head slowly turned to look at him a small smile tugging at your lips before you laughed softly “who knew you could be so sentimental, Dixon” you murmured and he stared at you unamused “I’m being serious,”

You smiled softly “I know… but I promise I won’t do this again alright? It was stupid… I know but it won’t happen again…” Daryl stared at you with a ‘yeah, sure’ look before you rolled your eyes soon holding your hand out towards him sticking your pinky out at him “fine. Pinky promise…” you raised your brows the older man staring a softness soon consuming his eyes before a little smile tugged at his lips, shaking his head but nonetheless he locked his pinky with yours

“Pinky promise.”

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bambieyedoll · 2 months

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⊹ ⋆ ꒰ఎﾟMOODBOARD ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹

rick grimes x farmer’s daughter!reader

“gotta be quiet for me, sugar” he whispered in your ear. you could feel his rough hands going up and down your legs making you shiver and sigh in delight. your eyes were closed, your back against the wall as you held onto his shoulders for support. “that’s it, baby” your soft legs wrapped around his waist, letting him in again.

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crystlizabeth · 1 year

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Dangerously Yours.

Paring: Carl Grimes x Blackfem!Smith!Reader

Paring: Negan Smith & BlackDaughter!Reader

Summary: You two where enemies, but there was just something that drew you two each other, but a war was in the making.

Warning: cursing, mentions of childhood trauma and abuse.

A/n: Carl lives au!! And im gonna add some songs that came out not during TWD time like or after 2013 i think! This is kinda of a self insert, This might be multiple parts, I noticed its turned into a Negan Smith x Daughter reader along with Carl x reader so enjoy.

The first time you met him he caught an additude with you trying to take some batteries out of your hand, it didn’t go well for him you grabbed his wrist twisting it telling him to fuck off. There were more instances when you would go and he somehow always pissed you off but it made sense you and Carl Grimes where enemies. So where your fathers you didn’t quite know what had all happed but you did know people died, some of your people and a few of his.

Now you where on your way back to Alexandria for a pick up you went along this time to see Eden, she was a decent girl but also a girl your age it wad hard to find friends in this day in age. Eden was closed of and was always followed by the one and only one eyed grimes, but that didn’t stop you from trying to get to know her and one of those ways was music, may it be mp3, cds or even vinyls.

“I found this mix tape a while back, its a costume one and actually really good music.” You said to Eden as you walked with her towards the supply house.

“Any songs you can recognize?” She asked taking the tape from your hand.

“Not really only a few like, Elvis, Hozier, Taylor swift, i hear alot of her music in the mixes i find.” You ended with a small laugh.

“I like Taylors music, Elvis’s pretty good to” she said with a small smile.

You two shared similar music taste even rap, you two enter the supply room running into Negan, Rick, Carl and a gal with glasses.

“Lookie here, making friends are we?” Your dad asked his usual grin on his face.

“Yeah you could say just trading some music but i need some batteries.” You said shrugging your shoulders.

Rick moved out of the way as the lady with glasses handed you 4 batteries “I only need two don’t worry about it. Unless,” you look over at Eden., “you need any?” She shook her head you nodded and handed two of the batteries back to her.

“Thank you..” you spoke lightly waiting for her name.

“Oh, its Olivia.” She said she voice shaken.

“Well thank you Olivia.” You said then turning to your dad.

“Not giving her a hard time are you?”

Negan raised his eyebrow giving you a cheeky grin “Not at all this time they actually have there shit in order.” He spoke wiggling around the list in his hand.

Nodding you left with Eden heading back to the truck with Carl running behind you two.

“Eden where are you going?” He asked.

She held the bag up in her hand that was filled with music “Trading music.” She answered simply.

He didnt say anything but continued to follow you two, you could feel his eyes burning you in the back of your head he watched every move you made.

You and Eden had gone through a crate you brought she had taken out a few albums and surprise mix tapes you liked to call them. She took ‘I love you.’ The neighborhood, ‘Anti’ Rhianna, ‘AM’ arctic monkeys and ‘Lungs’ Florance and the machine. You didn’t take any from her she didn’t have many good options so you just lended them to her.

“Really you want nothing back.” Carl voiced from behind you.

Giving him a glare “yeah theres no reason for me to take what little music she has, what are you even doing here doing you had somthing better to do cyclops.”

He glared at you “good to know your an asshole like your dad.” He spat back, he didnt appreciate the nickname but you weren’t a fan when he called you a bitch last week so your really didn’t give two shits.

“At least my dad doesn’t stand around like a bitch between his legs last time I checked you did the dirty work.” You said walking past him.

He turned to say something only for his dad to stop him. You only scoffed turning away.

A few weeks later you saw him again but this time he came by one of the trucks, he shot a few of your fathers men. When that whole mess was cleaned up Laura came and got you saying ‘your dad needs your help.’

You walked down the hall meeting Your Dad, Carl and Daryl out side on the little balcony. Carl didn’t have his bandage on this time covering his eye, Carl put his head was down after meeting your eyes.

“Whats up?” You asked.

Negan smiled “I need a favor Sweetheart, Carl here needs a little tour but i need to fix some shit the he fucked up. Keep and eye on him yeah?” He spoke looking at Carl.

“Sure just us or..?”

“Just you two, get to know each other and dont kill him, I for one actually like him unlike you.” He said laughing a little knowing the tension between you both.

“If he keeps the attitude to a minimum.. personally not a fan of it unlike you.” You say crossing your arms moving more of you weight to one side of your body.

With that they left leaving you and Carl by the railing watching over the workers, a few kids running around playing with one another.

“Is he actually your dad?” Carl asked breaking the silence. You weren’t surprised why he asked you, you two didn’t look alike and many obvious aspects.

You looked at him, his eye focused on you looking you up and down and searching for any kind of reaction. You watched as his eyes finally met yours again.

“No..” you said admitting it to him.

He tilted his head a little as a way of say ‘What’.

“He found me at the beginning of this, what about 3 years ago? Put it simply my biological father left me to fend for myself, fucked up right?” You said walking towards a stair way sitting down on the steps.

Carl stared down at you, looking up at him through your curls letting a laugh out from the look if his face.

“Are you serious..” he asked sitting down with you.

You looked over at him, “Yeah but my father had never actually been a good person. He was far from a good parent. He was a selfish, abusive man, he wasn’t fit for kids non the less 3 girls.”

Carl seemed interested. “You have Sisters?”

“Had.”

“Oh, sorry I didn’t know.” He said.

You leaned back on the stairs “Why would you? We aint friends.”

He nodded turning his head looking straight. He seemed vulnerable almost. But so where you you just opened up, trauma dumped to some guy you haven’t been able to stand for months. But in that moment there was a kind if peace and understanding.

“Why did you stick around after knowing all the bad things he’s done?” Carl asked looking back at you.

“All the bad.. nobody is good or bad. Especially in this, it survival.” You scoffed, he tried to makes his people out to be what they weren’t.

“He killed good people, friends, one of them had a kid on the way!”

You looked at him your eyes nerow slightly “Your little group took out an whole outpost of more than 50 people. Many of them had family and one of the women there was carrying a child.” You spoke sharply.

“Your people, your friends aren’t so clean of blood. Nor are you.” You finished harshly.

He did say anything else. Only looked back at his hands fidgeting with them in irritation.

He knew you where right, but he also knew you weren’t clean of blood either nobody was. There is no good or bad anymore just survivors.

You both eventually got up and you showed him around. How things work, people had jobs they earned money and they got what they need. That this was our normal, even you worked did chores to earn your keep.

You two continued to talk to each other, getting to know each other you never talked about either of your peoples. There was a spark for only knowing him and hating him for the past few months he understood you. They way his eyes lingered on you as you talked how he took in every word you where saying. What was that feeling that lingered as he left the feeling of wanting to see him again.

As weeks went by you two spoke over walkies, nit the safest options but it worked. You hadn’t let anyone this close since Negan, funny how you wanted nothing to do with this boy but now you did. He made you laugh over stupid things, gave you good advice as you did with him. He heard you cry for the first time, you even snuck out to see him one time showing him a little abandoned house by the river it was the first time in long time you both had fun.

He was feeling it two, his heart fluttered at the way you smiled, how he always held eye contact taking in the sight of you as it may be the last. You did the same but he never caught you looking at him like the way he did you. The hard truth you knew was that you two are enemies, maybe not you two but your Dads, your people.

But then shit hit the fan.

You didn’t get trapped in a sanctuary when they attacked the place, you watched as the walkers surrounded the building the echos of gun shots rang through your ears as you watched in horror as rick started to shot him down.

The only thing you could do is try and reach a different outpost. Warn them, but then you where caught.

He didn’t look familiar which scared you even more, you quicky grabbed your knife cutting his arm. He let go of you making you fall back only for someone else to grab you.

“The little bitch cut me!” The one man yelled you turned around quickly ready to strike again thats when you saw Rick and Daryl.

Your heart dropped, you where surrounded. Rick took a step toward you his hands visible “Dont Fucking come near me!” You yelled.

Rick put is gun down on the ground “Relax I don’t wanna hurt you.” His voice was calm.

“Then fuck off!”

“Where are you gonna go.” Daryl spoke.

You eyes shot over to him, you didn’t answer him. He was right though where were you gonna go, to an outpost you didn’t even know where it was at.

“Y/n we just wanna help you. I told Carl you wouldn’t get hurt.” Rick said.

Why would that matter?

“Please. Just come with us.”

You just looked at him, dumfounded.

Was it stupid yes, but you went with them handing over your weapons and walked to the gates. As they open they looks you got looks of horror from them. Rick pulled on my arm slightly letting go when I flinched. He took me into a house there sat a few people talking about what to do next.

But the all stop once their eyes landed on me.

“Sit.” Daryl said pointing at the couch his tone serious.

You where scared what did they want with you what was their plan, why where you not dead, locked up. You picked at your finger s peeling the skin off them drowning out everything around you. What the fuck is happening.

A hand fell on both of your hands you quickly looking up you saw him. His face filled with concern, he spoke but you never heard what he said the way he brows frowned trying to reach you. You began to break as both of his hand touched your arms squeezing them slightly wanting and answering out of you.

“Why am I here...” your voice tender and cracked.

“I..” Carl started but never finished he just looked at you.

“Why the hell am I here.” You asked again.

He took a deep breath “Help us end this.”

You stared at him, help them, help them. Why would you help them.

“Get away from me… Get AWAY.” You shouted pushing him away.

He stood back as you stood up, your hands gripping harshly on your hair.

“Your fucking kidding me right?! What makes you think I would help you, help these people! You know how crazy you sound.” You slightly laugh the frustration in your voice very clear. These people wanted your help. They just destroyed the only place you called home.

“Please Y/n, please.. hear us out.” Carl said.

“Your acting a fool, you just attacked my people, my home! Theres more than just Negan in there theres kids! Family, old people! What the fuck is wrong with you guys!” You yelled. “And- and you know that.. you saw it, so did he!” You finished pointing at Daryl.

They all knew that.

“What makes you think you can trust me anyway? What it your head makes you think I wouldn’t betray you.” You said your arms falling to your sides.

“Because your the one that let me out of that cell, made sure I had a clear way out.” Daryl spoke up.

You looked at him, he knew.

“And I trust you.” Carl said. “They may not but you help out friend and you’ve earned my trust, my respect.”

You shook your head, you wanted to cry, to cry like a little kid. Carl came to you again slowly pulling you in for a slight hug. Something sincere he cared for you he may have only truly known your for few weeks but he wanted you safe but with that came a cost. The talks over that walkie you had with him you could careless who herd them. Carl had fallen for a girl who he couldn’t have with out a cost.

“Y/n your something to believe In again, you could change things. Help your people.” Rick spoke.

You wanted to help your people, they deserved it they deserved to be safe. To have a life beyond the sanctuary. Alexandria was a safe place but so was your home they where good people in there people who don’t know how to protect themselves.

“But you’ll have to go behind, Negan. Lie to him.” Michonne finished.

Your head snaped at her, “I cant, i… i wont! I’ll just lie to you tell him your plans.” You said trying to get them to not believe you.

“If you do you’ll only hurt yourself…”

For my people.. but the cost was to betray a man who would do anything for you. You caught Carls eye he gave you a pleading look. He practically begged you with that look, betray your Dad for a boy.. for a boy and peace between people.

“If i betray you, I hurt myself.. if i betray my people, my family, I betray my dad, my dad is very important to me..”

“More important than your people and peace dont you want more for those family’s. For us.” Carl said, him whispering the last part only for you to hear.

For us..

You wanted that more than anything..

“Okay..”

So you helped them, you got back in through a old drain the led into the basement, you knew people would have noticed you where gone or maybe not.

When you saw Simon and Dwight they nodded at you figured you where out hidden in your room. Stupid men.

But you also knew Dwight was working with them as well, he was a traitor too.

Days had passed they finally cleared the walkers out. The plan was to attack hilltop but there was a twist, Negan on the other hand didn’t want you to have any part of it he stated “I need you here, with out people.” So you stayed.

You stayed back with your people started cleaning up putting things back together, when they came back your dad wasn’t to be seen.

“Wheres my dad?” You asked walking up to simon, he shared a look with Dwight looking back at you.

“Someone ran him off the road, all we found was blood when we finally found his car…” Simon said his tone quiet.

All you could do was stare at him “what.. is he.”

They nodded, the two men shared a look again.

Something isn’t right. They’re lying, they gotta be he couldn’t just be killed that easily.

After that Simon took charge, he seemed pleased with himself it was sickening. He bossed everyone around hell even threatened you that if you didn’t keep your mouth shut there would be ‘consequences’. It was just crazy to you, how easily he forgot his place.

But even now you had a job. So you did it you told them what happened leaving a note in the woods for them to find.

When you got back, There stood Negan. He turned to look at you giving you a smile.

“Hiya Sweetheart, how ya been.” His voice sweet giving you a hug.

“They said you where dead.” You said in a whisper only for him to hear.

He nodded looking at you back to Simon who was staring you down. You already knew he was fucked but lets make it worse, not here though. Negan wanted to talk anyway.

You sat on the couch in his room waiting for him, he startled you out of your trace as he placed his hand on the side if your head kissing you on the top of the head.

“Now tell me what the shit has he all done..?” He asked coming around sitting next to you.

“He pretty much took over your place bossing people around, and that attack on hilltop went south from what I heard, oh! He also threatened me” you said.

He turned his head to look at me. “ Do I dare ask what he said..” his voice went dark the look he held could kill.

You told him you may have exaggerated it a bit but you could careless the son of a bitch deserved it. His actions has consequences.

After that conversation you just sat there with him your head laying on his shoulder your arms wrapped around his arm.

“Im sorry..” you spoke softly, you could feel your throat swell up as you hold back tears.

“Its not your fault, Princess..” its been a minute since he’s called you princess, hell you where. You may not be his blood but your the only child he’s ever had, you where his daughter, his little girl.

The day finally came, but you weren’t standing with them you stood with Carl not your Father. The sound of that familiar call rang through your ears as everyone raised there gun.

“Well damn Rick, lookie here.” Negans voice echoed through a radio.

“Pegged again, pegged so very hard.”

Everyone moved around looking for them “ I ambushed your ambush with an even bigger ambush.” You could hear a slight chuckle after.

“Why don’t you step out and face us!” Rick yelled out as he looked around looking for any kind of movement.

“Oh I am everywhere Rick.” He said.

You closed your eyes settling your breath you felt a hand on your back, opening your eyes looking to you left you saw carl. He gave you a nod trying to give you some kind of comfort. You could hear Negan he went on talking about Eugene and Dwight, going to to Gabriel. Then he said your name.

“Where is my daughter because I would love to know. Kind fucked up how your little psycho of a son came in one day and now my daughter is gone. You happen to know anything about that.” His voice was serious, you had been gone since yesterday.

Rick looked back at you, you shook your head telling him not to say a word.

“But here we go, congratulations Rick.” Was the last thing he said before he started a count down.

They came out starting to fire only for their weapons to back fire on them.

Every thing happend to fast.

Soon enough they had surrendered, the saviors where on their knees hands in the air. Rick and Negan ran off, you looked around for them Carl and Rosita following behind me a little.

You finally got up to the hill you saw them standing in-front of each other talking, Negans face fell looking like he was going to cry at what Rick said. For a moment they stood there. Then it happened.

“NO!” You screamed, you went to run towards them only for Rosita to grab you holding you tightly.

“NO YOU LIER! YOU SAID YOU WERNT GONNA KILL HIM!” You Sobbed, struggling against Rosita and she tried calming you down.

“You fucking Lier! Please he’s all i have, please.” You begged your body slightly collapsing in Rositas Arms Carl came in front of you helping Rosita turn you so you did have to see him bleed out.

“You fucking people lied. I trusted you.” You cried.

“I didn’t know, Y/n I didn’t know.” Carl said his hands cupping your face making you looks at him.

Your sobs continue, As you fell into his arms. Rosita let go of you only staying behind you. The only thing in the field you could hear was you sobbing, Carls gentle tone trying to calm you. His hand gently rubbing your back, your hands covered your face your head resting on Carls shoulder.

“Save him.”

You pushed of Carls shoulder looking up. The widow started to do the same thing you had just done, Michonne holding her back as she yelled at rick, begging him to keep Negan dead.

“We have to make it right.” Maggie sobbed.

A year had now passed, you hadn’t been able to see Negan they wouldn’t let you. But what they did do it tell him that you had helped them, not by much but you did.

“Why would they do that..” you asked, Carl looked up at you.

“In not sure.. ask my dad why he did.” He said, you only glared at him.

“Common babe, you cant hold that anger with him forever especially that your my girlfriend.” He laughed slightly standing up from the step turning to you pulling you up.

“Its called a grunge, and yeah I can. They go on telling Negan i betrayed him and i don’t even get to explain my self to him.” You spoke the irritation in your voice quite visible.

Carl sighed, “I know Y/n..” he pulled you in by your hands.

“Talk to Michonne, you like her at lest.” Carl said giving you a kiss.

So you where gonna do just that but first you had to find her. When you did she was with Judith on the porch Rosita with her. Rosita gave you a smile as she left.

Michonne looked at you giving you a small smile “Hi Y/n how are you?” She said.

“Im fine but i have a question.” You spoke, she nodded letting you continue.

“Why wont you let me see him” befor she could speek you cut her off “I know i ask this way to often but you told him everything i could attest give him an exclamation, you just letting him believe that what i did was for the worst, so please. Wouldn’t you want Carl to tell you if that had happened to him not just to stay quiet and believe he did it to hurt you.” You finished.

Michonne signed “You’ll have five minutes.”

Your face light up “Thank you, Thank you!”

She grabbed Judith giving her to a friend as she walked you to the basement, Carl and Rosita followed you two and you walked down the stairs she told you to wait.

“You have a Visitor.” She said before waving you in.

It was dark but you could see him, and he looked like shit. “Five minutes.” Michonne said walking over to the door keeping it open but she walked up them.

The silence between you two lingered for a minute, after all that begging you couldn’t get your self to say anything but when he did your heart dropped.

“Well kid, hows your new life, boyfriend, freedoms.” He said harshly.

“I-its fine, can I explain..” you said.

He stood up moving to the bars looking at you. “What that you stabbed me in the back yeah I got that.”

“Dont be a dick-”

“Really your gonna call me the dick?” He scoffed.

“I never meant you any harm i wanted what was best for our people.” You said softly.

He didn’t say anything, his eyes never left you but he was mad and he had every right to be. You had all of his trust, he would’ve done anything for you and you betrayed him. Everything he had done for you was thrown out the window after that stunt those 4 years were practically all for nothing.

“I know your mad at me and you have every right to be, I just wanted our people to see more the kids in the sanctuary to have more of a life beyond that, here those kids have a playground more people to become friends with.” You said, you watched as he turned around midway through you talking, he didn’t want to look at you.

You took a breath in bitting your lip to stop you self from crying, you crossed your arms holding your self in a hug.

“I haven’t seen you in a year man common say something, yell at me something anything.” You spoke in a whimper your lip trembling.

Nothing.

“Please don’t hate me.” Your tears fell down your cheeks.

“Your all i have left to family, I never thought I would call someone dad again let alone a man that actually cared for me..” you cried out your head falling down looking that the floor.

The tears continue to fall down your face making your cheeks glisten. He was your dad, maybe it was a cycle with you to make them hate you at some point.

“I don’t hate you, I don’t think I could ever bring myself to hate you.” He said quietly not turning around.

“Then why wont you look at me..” you asked not even sure if you wanted to know the answer.

He sighed deeply turning around “That better?”

You nodded not sure what to say next, things may never be the same again but you do know that is he doesn’t hate you, you didn’t have to worry about the fear of him never wanting to see you again.

#twd #negan smith #the walking dead negan #carl x reader #carl the walking dead #carl grimes x reader #x black reader #poc reader #negan daughter #carl grimes #the walking dead #smith reader #daryl dixon #rick grimes #michonne #maggie rhee #twd rosita #twd simon

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leysgrimes · 8 months

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BACK TO THE BASICS (Rick Grimes x fem!reader)

this story’s based on a Lana Del Rey unreleased song:

youtube

note: Y/n is Hershel’s daughter who’s had a crush for Rick Grimes.

warning: smut, 18+, minors DNI!, unprotected sex, mentions of alcohol, p in v, farm!rick grimes.

+ yes i do accept requests!!<3

¡ DO NOT repost, copy, translate my projects !

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It was late night, you were in your room reading your favourite book for the 3rd time…a noise catches your attention as you quickly turn around and look over the window of your room seeing Rick and his group having another argument. You roll your eyes, wondering how they made it this far by not even being able to be in peace with each others.

Next day you woke up very early and take your horse, just to have a check around the area; Rick caught you by surprise. “Oh god you scared me” you turn around giving him your back “i’m sorry” he walks over making you turn around and start an eye contact that made you realise how tall he is compared to you “what do you want Rick?” your voice gets lower, almost like a whisper.

He stares at you, he always liked the way that you moved, it was so angelic, he always paid attention to every single move you did. Rick smiles “where are you going, princess?” he asked pointing at the horse, your heart starts beating faster and you felt butterflies in your stomach for how close he was to you “somewhere” you smirk, he tilts his head making him seem more curious “somewhere?” you nod “i’ll come with you then” you lift your eyebrows “mkay i guess…”

After two hours of travel, the both of you has been attacked by a bunch of walkers, “fuck!” you said trying to kill the walker that was eating your horse, you slowly crawl near the horse as it was suffering and by tightly holding your knife you ended its pain.

Rick walked towards you and puts his hand on your shoulder, in symbol of comfort while the both of you were covered in blood “let’s go back home” Rick said.

— ୨୧ —

“FATHER HE PROTECTED ME!” you screamed at Hershel. He was worried you could’ve get yourself killed, Rick was danger in your fathers eyes as he still doesn’t fully trust him and his group “do you like him?” he asks “what…” you ask wondering if you heard him correctly “do…you like him?” he repeats, your heart starts beating faster again and you start uncontrollably shaking “AHAH SO THIS IS IT, I’M ON RICKS SIDE CAUSE HE SAVED ME AND NOW YOU THINK I LIKE HIM!” you laugh in disbelief and leave the room closing yourself in your bedroom and try to clean up the blood that was all over your skin, not being able to recognise if it was the walkers’ or your horses, then you walk over your closet to pick up something to put on.

You open your closet and take the bottle of wine you hid a long time ago, before the apocalypse hit, you sneak out with your bottle trying to be as quiet as possible.

You felt a hand on your shoulder making your body freeze, “hey” , it was Rick. You slowly turn around “can you stop scaring me?” you sarcastically say making him giggle “sorry…again.” he looked at you “what are you doing out here alone?” he asks “i’d be asking you the same thing” he nods “i’m…” you show your bottle of wine “…going somewhere just to clear up my mind” you smile in embarrassment “i’ll come with you” you turn around and continue walking paying attention at his movements making sure he’s following you.

And in less than 10 minutes the both of you were laughing on a rooftop of an abandoned little house staring at the stars with your empty bottle of wine and talking about how your past life was “i heart about your fight with Hershel” he turns around “you…like me?” you quickly turn to him, your face was red in embarrassment as you didn’t know what to say, “well…” you chuckle “i’ve always had a thing for older men” “oh yeah?” you nod “have you ever had a boyfriend?” “nope” he stared at you and then at your lips “everybody’s sayin’ that you’re no good for me” you giggle trying to fill the quietness of that moment that felt endless “really?” you nod hiding your smile with your left hand “my sisters” he looks down and smiles.

Rick got closer and kissed your soft lips, you were shocked by his quick move but you kissed him back as he goes on top of you making you lie down, you put your hands trough his hair. Your kiss gets more passionate with every second that passes, Rick pulled off and stared at your hazel eyes, asking for permission to get into you, you nod and he unbuttons his pants and pulls up your dress, he made his way into you making you moan “fuck” he looks down then looks at you “are you okay?” you nod “words princess, talk.” and between your moans you nod again “yes, yes!” he smirks as he gets faster. “Oh god” he whimpers “you’re so good” he groans. “Rick…i’m close” you whisper, you put your legs all around his waist to keep him closer as your nails were scratching his back. “God Rick!” you moan louder, tears falling from your eyes, his mouth attached to your neck, everything was a mess but, somehow, it was still perfect. You came, he pulls out his dick covered by your cum and puts on his boxer and lays next to you, breathless.

It was morning when you woke up in your own bed, your heart was pounding as you thought everything that happened, everything that you and Rick had, the deep conversations, the eye contacts, the sex was only a dream; you ran outside looking for him “good morning princess , you fell asleep yesterday night so i brought you back home in your bedroom…Beth was still awake so she helped me” he smiles, you looked at him with your doe eyes as you jump on him and hug him kissing his lips making him smile for how amazing you are and how perfect the both of you are for each other.

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2svnder · 4 months

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❥rick and the farmers daughter…

#moodboard #pintrest #twd #rick grimes #twd moodboard #rick x reader #farmers daughter #gloomy coquette

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vigilxnte · 5 months

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Chapter 1 Part 1

What if? TWD EDITION

Hi guys. This is Chapter 1 Part 1 of my what if series. Its main protagonist will be Rick's daughter Y/N. I'll let you all work out the rest. This is an on going series so please stay tuned. Thank you for your patience and I hope you enjoy the first part.

Approx 900 words

Negans whistle surrounded us ,like prey, as we forced our way through the tress. It was as if the branches wanted us as dead as he did. My father guided us, while i clung onto Maggie. She was trying her best to keep up, as the pains got worse. "Come on Maggie not to much further, right dad?" I reassured her as I held all her weight on my shoulders. My dad, Rick, ignored me as we all ran in a frantic panick. The faster we ran I felt my legs burn with exhaustion. As the whistling got louder I grew more with panic. Today isn't the day I accept death. Not after all we'd been through.

We turned a corner as one of negans men appeared from the bushes. It was like hunting a boar during hunting season, except we were the ones being hunted. Running in a different direction we haulted in an opening to catch out breath, looking around, searching for an escape. Suddenly the whistling stopped. I looked at my brother Carl who seem just as confused I was. "Are they gone?" I questioned, breathless to the group. they all appeared just as unsure as i did. Abruptly, lights began appearing around us, simultaneously, almost coordinated. Light peirced through my retna, almost burning the back of my skull. Squinting, I held tight on to Maggie, who too struggled for breath and vision. Behind the light I could make out 100s of men, stood by cars of which the light sourced. They surrounded us like hawks ready for the kill. But what stopped them? Between the shining lights a camper van positioned itself between group that surrounded us. Turning, I saw more crowd from behind us, some of them making their way to us, before slamming us to our knees and removing our weapons from hands and pockets. I let go of Maggie as they forced us apart placing us into a line.

From the line of men and cars surrounding on stepped forward almost giving us a once over to ensure we were alined 'perfectly'. He eyed us down one last time before he spoke "alright, we got a full boat" pausing for dramatic pause "let's meet the man" gleefully walking to the door of the camper to knock. Knock, knock, knock. Silence was all around, even a walker would have been some what comforting noise in this moment in time. The camper van's door banged against itself, as the silouette of an unknown man appeared from the hovering darkness. He stepped from the camper as his foot fell heavy to the gravelled ground. Strutting his way over to us, fitted in a leather jacket and smug grin on his face. A red bandaner positioned above the closed jacket. A hand tightly fisted a bat, covered in barbwire as it rested against the mans broad shoulders.

"Pissing our pants yet?"

Thank you for reading and make sure to leave a comment if you have any ideas I could add for future posts.

#ricks daughter #rick grimes #the walking dead #twd negan #twd daryl #shane twd #twd #daryl x reader #daryl fanfiction #the walking dead daryl

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boygiwrites · 7 months

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Harley D. Dixon 23

An amazing edit inspired by this story! (Cred to Cora_Line99) Harley D. Dixon's Pinterest Board! Harley D. Dixon's Playlist!

📖Chapter List.

Author's Note.

Warning for strong themes of suicide in this chapter because of Beth, and well, everything else.

Herschel left the farm all by himself while we was out.

As the sun sets behind the porch railing, Lori explains to Rick and Glenn that Beth's in shock — the thing I was in this morning. She tries to mutter it under her beath, but I hear just fine that she tried to kill herself by slicing her wrists up. Different to how Momma did it, but I know just about every way there is, and that's one of 'em. If I were Beth, I would'a just jumped out the window. Prolly would'a worked, but maybe she didn't want it to. Lori and Patricia found her just in time to save her. She's laid up in bed now, apparently still staring at the wall.

Rick keeps glancing at me throughout the whole conversation. I don't know why he's doin' it, but I wish he'd cut it out.

Herschel told us today he'd learnt what grit was, but I guess he ain't learned enough to deal with his daughter wantin' to die, 'cause he hopped in his truck and took a trip to town to get away from it all. Maggie begs the two of 'em to go bring him back, and they agree.

"You got any guesses where he might'a gone?" Rick asks, putting his hat back on. Always savin' people. "Parks, stores, houses?"

"Hatlin's." She answers unhappily. "Bar on main street. He practically lived there in his drinking days. If he's gone anywhere, it's there."

I can't imagine Herschel in a bar. My Daddy and Uncle Merle used to rot away in bars when they was angry or sad, but that was them.

Rick must be thinking the same thing. "I didn't take Herschel for a drinker."

"He gave it up the day I was born." She half-smiles. "Didn't even allow liquor in the house... But not anymore, I guess."

"I've seen the place." Glenn assures her, holding her shoulder and turning to Rick. "I can drive us there."

"Okay." Before they turn to leave, he murmurs to Lori, "Does Daryl know 'bout Beth yet?"

She shakes her head and glances at me, too.

He warns her, "Well, you're gonna want to. Harley's been havin' a tough go of it and I ain't sure how this is... gonna affect her."

She gives a look of understanding. "I'll go talk to him now."

When he comes down the steps, he crouches in front of me. He's got his Dad-face on, the one that's all nice and reassuring.

"Hey, you did good today." He tells me. "How 'boutchu go find Carl and read some comic books together or something for a while?"

"Alright." I lilt, watching him gently clap me on my shoulder before following Glenn down the path toward the cars.

But as soon as they're gone, I don't go find Carl. I take myself around the side of the house and slouch between two old barrels in the grass, hiding from everyone. I've gotten real good at swallowing down the need to cry, so that's what I do. At some point, the darn ringing returns.

I wish some little animal would cross paths with me, so I could take my knife out and stab it dead. That'd make me feel better.

Merle would smack me if he saw me like this. Don't cry, Harley. Don't cry. Been a long, long day, but you don't gotta cry.

The sun soon disappears under the earth.

"Sh, sh, sh. Baby, it's okay." The night is quiet, but our little tent is filled with my pent-up sobs. "It's okay."

I wish I could go to sleep like everyone else, but I can't. The day's finally caught up with me. Rick and Glenn still haven't returned, but the farm's been a mess without 'em all the same. Dad's been watching me like a hawk since Lori spoke with him, and dinner was spent in silence, and I been trying not to cry for hours. He keeps crooning the same thing to me over and over. It's okay. I hear that stupid lie every time things aren't okay. It don't get any more okay-er no matter how hard I bawl or scream into his shoulder, or wish with all my heart and all my body, right down to my toes, that I weren't such a little wuss. I wish Sophia was alive. I wish Shane made it to Fort Benning.

Seems I'm always hurting. If anyone asked me what I did best, I'd say this. Sometimes feels like all I was made for.

I did good faking my way through the day, but as soon as I laid my head down to go to sleep and realized that I couldn't no more 'cause of my ear, I finally broke. Can't shoot, can't hear, can't sleep. Everything, even the way I curl up at night, been stripped from me.

"It's not okay," I moan, hating that when I close my eyes, I can still see the things I don't wanna. "S'all wrong. It hurts."

"I know it does, chicken. But I'm 'ere. I'm always here." He murmurs into my hair, holding me even tighter to his chest. "Just get it all out."

I wanna tell him I can't, it don't work that way. If you could cry yer sadness out, I would'a lost all mine by now. But he already knows. Just like me, he's made up of sadness. Most people say we're alike 'cause our matching scowls, our little moles. But more than anythin', it's that.

I don't think I've ever been this type of angry before. There's just nowhere to put it. There's no-one to blame. It's just inside me. And I think it'll be there forever, like my bones are. There's no use being sour at Rick or Dad for killin' Shane. You can't get mad at people when there's no right or wrong to it, when they was just doin' what needed to be done. Shane was crazy, we've always said it. He done so many things he shouldn't have. No, I ain't mad at them for that. Or at Glenn, or T, or Andrea for helping 'em. Not at the bullet that shot my ear off, not at the Greenes' God for takin' all my friends away. I'm just angry at being alive.

"He said it was gonna be d-different this time." He said a whole bunch'a things, but that one I remember. "Daddy, I want it t'be different."

"It will be, baby. It will. I'mma keep you safe with everythin' I got, okay?" At least that one's not a lie. "You know that."

"But I'on care about me." I pull back, my fingers twisted in his tank top. "It's everyone else that's dead. It's Shane and Sophia a-and Momma and Merle and Morales and prolly Meemaw and Kyle and my cousins. I'm sick of it! Ain't no point in movin' on if people gonna keep dyin'!"

"Don't talk like that, Harley Dixon." He gently scolds, brows twitching into a frown. "Don'tchu ever. There is a point."

Well, I don't get it no more. "I ca-an't even sleep properly, Dad."

"Well, let's just try again. You can lay on yer other side." He offers. "Dad'll read you another story, huh? Or you want me to sing again?"

"No." I croak miserably. I don't want a story. I don't even want a song. "Even if I go to sleep, t-that's ruined, too. I get nightmares. And when I wake up, it's the same thing all over again. Eatin' scraps and cryin' and takin' ringing meds just for somethin' else bad to happen."

"That's the way life is, Harley." He tells me, a little stricter this time. "I can't change it any more than you can. People die—"

"People mourn," I quote him with a roll of my wet eyes, "Life moves on. I heard."

"Stop it." He don't like that I mocked him, not one bit. Not when it comes to this. "It's true. We move on. We keep livin'."

"Well, maybe I don't wanna. Maybe I'm done."

Herschel says I got a thing called grit. Dad says I'm his brave girl. Carl thinks I'm some sorta badass, but really I'm just a nasty, broken little thing called Harley Dixon. I don't wanna keep living if living's full of death. Maybe it's better the other way. Beth thinks so. Momma sure did, too. I never got to ask her if it worked out like she wanted and got all her sadness taken away, but I like to think it did. I like to think there's no bad things where she is, only good and happy things. She ain't watched Shane die. She ain't stood at Sophia's grave. She ain't hurtin'.

"Little girl," Dad's voice is thin and shaky like a whisper, but also very, very, very angry. "I know you ain't just said that."

I stare right back at him through my tears without a word, 'cause I did say that. Not to hurt him, but because it's the truth.

He slowly starts shaking his head. "Nah, I ain't raised you this way. I ain't raised a girl that gives up."

My wobbly frown deepens. "So that's what Momma was, then? She was weak?"

"Yes. Weak an' stupid." He says unapologetically. "And I won't have you talkin' like her. Over my dead body, girl, I won't have it."

"And how's that?" I challenge him. "You gonna make Sophia come back? You gonna fix my ear? You gonna make Shane—?"

"Weren't me that did that, Harley. Weren't Rick, weren't nobody but himse—"

"—Come back? You gonna kiss it all better and sing a song?" I taunt, shouting in his face, "They're all dead!"

"I know they are." He argues, taking a moment to suck in a breath. "I'm sorry I ain't find Sophia. I'm sorry 'boutcher ear. I'm sorry you're hurtin' and I can't do nothin' about it, but this type'a talk ain't what's gonna help you, Harley. It's bein' strong. You gotta be stronger."

"But I ain't," I tell him, and the tears are back now, streaming down my face, 'cause I'm right. I ain't strong. "I'm just nothin'."

"You're my little girl, is whatchu are." He says sternly, voice cracking. "I love you more'un anythin'. How you think hearin' that makes me feel?"

Probably makes him see the little traces of Momma on my face. Makes him feel like he's failing the same woman twice.

But I'm just so tired, and I just don't care. "I'on care how it makes you feel, Daddy. I'on care 'bout nothin' anymore."

Being empty must be worse than being full of somethin' like anger, 'cause this is the thing that really gets to him. Under his pair of twisted brows, his sharp eyes start to well up, his mouth curls into a sneer. The crickets outside chirp happily either way, dutifully filling the silence that comes. For the first time, I think my Dad is wrong about something. There is no point in moving on. Bein' strong, that's a waste. Shane said we deserve for things to go differently, go better in some way that ain't so cruel, but it didn't. It won't.

"You're fuckin' scarin' me, Harley." He utters thinly. "You ain't never talked like this."

I know. I ain't never stayed down after a hit, but I been strong for so long, I think it's just ran out.

I don't answer him. Instead I confess quietly, "I think I wanna go sleep in somebody else's tent tonight, Dad."

I need out this stuffy tent. If I could sleep alone in a hole somewhere, I would. I'm done arguing. And he's done, too. He wordlessly slides me off his lap and helps me gather my bedding, trying his best not to tear up more than he already is, muttering to himself, swiping at his eyes. He leads me back to main camp, where all the lamps are shut off and the fire pits are smoking. The night air cools my hot, red cheeks.

He taps his knuckles onto a crate just outside the Grimes' tent, and before he even steps back, there's shuffling inside.

The zipper peels back, revealing Lori's sleepy, moon-lit face. She takes us in with a confused look. "Daryl? What are you doing over here?"

"Listen, I'm sorry for wakin' ya." He murmurs, putting on a level voice. "Came to ask you if... Harley can bunk with you guys tonight."

"Uh, sure." She agrees kindly, encouraging me to step inside by my shoulder, taking my sleeping bag from Dad. "Everything alright?"

"No." He answers gruffly. No point in lying. He don't give up anything else, and she don't pry. He places a kiss to my hair. "Night, chicken."

"Night, Dad." I force myself to say back, 'cause I'm grateful he ain't just kept me stuck in our tent, and that he really listened.

As he gives me one last glance and then leaves, Lori zips the tent up and lays my bedding down next to hers and Rick's. Carl snoozes away in the corner, an open comic book splayed out over his chest. I bet Lori knows what's the matter with me. Rick saw that thousand-yard stare I had after they killed Shane, knows how I been hating myself. He no doubt told her everything. But she's too nice to say anything.

"Here, sweetie." She takes my lumpy pillow and sets it down. I wiggle into the sleeping bag. "Comfy?"

I give a nod, even though laying on my back feels real strange and I don't got Matilda anymore.

She smiles blearily and crawls back under the covers. "Wake me up if you need anything."

And that's that. I stare up at the sky through the Grimes' tent, counting the stars through the black mesh until I fall asleep.

Sometime during the night, I bolt awake, sweating, crying, confused. Shane, I couldn't save him. I watched him die. Again. A gunshot, blood, shouting, dying, searing pain and a dog tag dangling from a broken mirror. Darkness, and then two little hands on my shoulders, shaking me. A boyish, worried voice telling me, hey, it's just a nightmare. I cling to them. Carl. He's here. I don't think before I let him hug me. I sniffle into his neck as he pets the soft spot between my shoulder blades like his Momma and Daddy do when he's upset.

"It was him again," I shudder. "Shane. I miss him. I miss all of 'em."

Life moves on, Daddy said. But how's it that mine ain't? When's that moving part happen?

"Me, too." His arms tighten around me as much as a boy's can. "You're allowed."

After that, I remember the sound of blankets shuffling, a flashlight clicking on, a comic book being quietly read to me. I remember my eyes closing, heart slowing, and I remember thinking he's gonna be the best big brother one day. In a way, he already is.

The next morning, my eyes flutter open to the sight of a quiet, empty tent. By some miracle, I must've slept in a little. I hear the fire crackling away outside, the clinking of spoons on bowls, muffled conversation. After taking a minute to yawn and stretch, I crawl out the tent.

"Ah, there she is." As I round the camping chairs, Dale sends me a warm smile. I take the seat next to him. "Just in time for breakfast."

I glance up at the second storey of the farmhouse, imagining Beth behind one of those pretty windows. I wonder how she feels about waking up this morning. I know I'm exhausted, and all I've done is open my eyes. Another day of eating scraps, crying, and taking pills. Ironically enough, Lori interrupts my spacing out by holding out two little white capsules and a water bottle to me. She's speaking, but I'm not hearing her. I throw both pills back and wash 'em down so I don't gotta look at 'em any longer. I hate that my body can't work on its own anymore.

"Harley." Lori's voice comes quick and sharp this time, startling me. "Are you listening?"

I glare up at her. She's standing so close to me that I don't know how I couldn't hear what she said the first time. "Huh?"

She looks at me like I've done something strange. "I said, 'You can't take those on an empty stomach'. Are you hungry?"

"Oh. Yeah." Now everyone's lookin' at me like that. I reach under my hair and nervously tug on my ear as she turns and fills a bowl with the creamy soup cooking over the fire. I've never not been able to catch what someone's saying like that. She hands the food to me. "Thanks."

As conversation picks up again, I struggle to pin certain words being said, especially when they're from Andrea, who's sitting the furthest from me, and Lori, on my left. S'like half the world's gone silent, and the other half's just a high-pitch squeal. God, it's makin' me mad. I claw at my ear again, as if there's somethin' stuck in there, like a wad of earwax or a cork, but there ain't nothin' in there but the ringing.

A scary thought crosses my mind. If you can't hear for no good reason, that means you're deaf. I can't be deaf.

When Andrea looks directly at me and says something that I think's meant to be a joke, I snap back, "I can't fuckin' hear you, Andrea."

Her smile drops pretty fast, but I don't feel bad. I feel frightened. To my surprise, I don't get told by anyone to mind my language.

Lori just looks at me all pitiful-like and hesitates to guess, "Is it the ringing?"

I'm tired of hearing about the ringing almost as much as I'm tired of hearing the ringing itself. "It ain't the damn— I just can't hear proper."

She glances side-long at Dale. "Herschel did say..."

He sighs, looking a little stressed, before scooting his chair closer to mine and clicking his fingers on my right ear. "What about that?"

It sounds like a far-away thud, thud, thud, where it should actually sound like a snap, snap, snap.

"S'dull." I mutter unconfidently.

He moves to my left ear. This time, there isn't even any thud, thud, thud at all. It's just silence.

When I say nothing, he leans back. "I'm no doctor, but... It seems very obvious to me."

I'm not a doctor neither, and neither is Lori or T or Andrea or Carl, but it's all rather obvious to us, too. I can tell, 'cause they're all lookin' pretty uncomfortable, like this discovery has already ruined the rest of my life as I'm just sitting here. I'm losing hearing in my left ear. That's what it is. As soon as Dad mentioned my hearing to Herschel, and when it got worse at shooting practice, I was scared this would happen.

Ain't nobody shocked. I was never gonna walk away from a gunshot to the side of the head with all my hearing intact.

I guess whenever somebody talks, I'll just have to try reading their lips.

"I had a teacher who was deaf." Carl offers this up like it means anything. "She was really nice and smart. Everyone liked her."

I almost feel like scoffing at him, Wow, thanks so much, Carl. You've cured me.

"It's really nothing." Lori's quick to reassure me, covering for his shitty attempt. "Hundreds of people live like this and they still thrive."

"Hell, I think I'm going deaf sometimes, too." Dale jokes. "And I'd say I'm doing alright, wouldn't you?"

"Sure, Dale." I try to chuckle, staring down at my cold soup.

Nobody mentions the fact that having sharp senses is what keeps you alive nowadays. If a walker sneaks up on me, I won't hear it.

It's then that Dad walks into camp, looking nearly as tired as I feel. He mutters a good morning to everyone, and Lori reluctantly stands to go collect my bedding for him. I waste no time hopping out my seat and going over to hug him, locking my arms around his neck as he kneels to hold me close. I said a whole lotta things last night, and so did he, but I don't think either of us is angry at the other over it. We can read each other well enough to know. He kisses my cheek before pulling back and taking my things from Lori.

Clearing his throat like he does when he might cry, he asks me, "You sleep well, chicken?"

Instead of answering, I just hug his waist and Lori changes the subject. "Daryl, just a heads up. That thing Herschel spoke about..."

"Damn it." He sighs when what she's implying clicks. He reaches down to soothingly pet my hair. "And they still ain't back, are they?"

"No. But we both know Harley and Beth are... in some type of way. We need him."

"And y'all want me to go and fetch him, huh?" He guesses, taking a long moment to consider. Then, "Y'all be grateful you been good to me."

"Thank you, Daryl." She exclaims. "Thank you. We've always been able rely on you."

He scoffs. "Maybe not always."

"Well, enough." She smiles. "They said they were headed to a bar in town called Hatlin's. I think you'll wanna head there first."

"There even gonna be anythin' he can do?" He mumbles so I can barely make it out. "I mean, the guy ain't David Copperfield."

"Well, in the old world, I might've suggested trying out a hearing aid, but now... I'm not so sure."

He grunts. "Them things need batteries, don't they?"

"I think so, but not any standard ones we'd have. You're thinking of finding one, aren't you?"

"I'd turn the whole fuckin' country upside down to get her one, if it's what she needs." He says. "Maybe some old dead guy's wonderin' around with his. Maybe I find one in a doctor's office. Either way, ain't no bill attached to 'em these days and if there's one out there, I'll find it."

She admires the determination in his eyes, lips twitching into a smile. "Rick will help you. I know he will."

"Best I go find officer goody-two-shoes and company, then." He agrees. "Look after my girl for me."

She nods. "That goes without saying."

"I love you, baby." He tells me, which is how I know I done messed up. Takes a lot for him to randomly tell me he loves me, and I guess all that talk last night about giving up was enough. He even places another kiss to my cheek, pinching it after. "I'll see you later."

"I'm sorry, Dad." I mutter.

"I know." He understands I can't help what's happening to me, or how I feel. "I'm gonna get whatchu you need. It's gonna be alright."

I'm not quite sure what I need, but at least the adults seem to know. At least some part of me can be saved.

After he leaves to put my bedding back in our camp, I climb back into my seat and watch the blue truck bumble down the drive and eventually, through the trees. Dale encourages me to finish off my soup in that annoying way my Dad always does, but I only eat a spoonful or two before my stomach shrivels distastefully and he tells me I've tried enough for this morning, so I take to curling up and staring at the fire.

I know if Shane was alive to see what he did to me, he'd be that word Lori likes to say, appalled. He never wanted to hurt me.

A hearing aid. It's one of them things I've never had to think about until now. If I had to go back a couple months and tell seven-year-old Harley, with her long, straight hair and chubby cheeks and bright, green eyes, that I look like a boy, got half an ear, and need a hearing aid, I think she'd hit me upside the head for being a liar. But I know now that you gotta be ready for anythin', like dead people in barns and a last-minute gunshot, and now, I guess, the need for a hearing aid. I have to try squash that feeling of shame. It ain't good for me, but it's always there.

I almost make myself chuckle imagining Carl tryna make being half-deaf badass. He's so relentlessly supportive. They all are.

It's too bad, then, that I still feel this way. This numb and hollowed out, alive but-also-dead way.

The way Carol must feel, and maybe the way Dad felt after Momma died.

"Thank you." Maggie tells Lori and Jacqui in the kitchen, as I stand in front of the fireplace in the next room over. "This is nice of y'all."

I see what Glenn was talkin' about now, about Maggie's great grandfather lookin' like a bald Georgie Washington. He's sitting all proper and important-like inside a photo frame on the mantle, like all people from forever ago do. But there's also newer photos, ones with color, like Maggie and Beth as little girls, posing with horse riding trophies and smiling together at old Thanksgivings and Christmases. I feel happy just looking at them. Baby photos, kind-looking people, school photos. We never knew the Greenes before, but I feel like now I might.

"We just thought you could use some help." Lori replies. "It's been a difficult time for all of us, especially Harley and Beth."

"I appreciate it. Sharin' your supplies, that means a lot these days. You wouldn't mind helpin' me toss it all together will you?"

"Not at all." Jacqui pokes her head around the arch and calls out, "Harley, you wanna come help Maggie finish cooking?"

With a little flinch, I turn to face the three women, remembering why we came here in the first place. We had some tinned vegetables and whatever else left over from breakfast, and Lori thought we'd offer them to Maggie, who's in the middle of cooking a meal for Beth.

"I guess." I hum as I head into the kitchen. It ain't like I got anything better to do. "What're you makin'?"

"Potato soup." Maggie pulls a few bowls from the worn cabinets with a smile. "Well, veggie soup, now."

"Hopefully Beth will feel a little better after a warm breakfast." Lori muses. "It always helped me."

All their words are muffled, as if I'm underwater and they aren't, but I can still just about make out what they're saying.

When Maggie places the bowls on the counter and sees me peering over the ledge, she chuckles. "Let me grab you a stool, huh?"

She grabs a mini wooden step-ladder leaning against the pantry, pulls it open, and sets it down for me. I step onto the lowest rung. She fills a bowl with water from the faucet and slides it in front of me, instructing me to how to rinse off the fat, muddy potatoes and lay them on the dry rag afterwards. It's an easy, mindless task. I get to work while they start slicing up the vegetables and opening the tins.

As Maggie scrapes carrot into the pot, she jokes, "I been makin' so much soup recently I think I forgot how to make anything else."

"Good thing we've taken a liking, then." Jacqui smiles. "I've never tasted a tater soup good as y'all Greenes'. You know your stuff."

Feels like I'm back at the quarry again, helping prepare our next meal from whatever scraps we had, listening to the women gossip.

"Pssh. I'm tellin' you, as kids, Beth and I loathed the day Wednesday came around and Momma'd make her famous potato soup." She scoffs, grinning at old memories. "She always put too much salt in, said it was good for us. But all it was good for was makin' us barf."

Lori makes a sassy face. "I'm taking it the recipe's been tweaked a little since then."

Maggie smirks. "Wouldn't be eatin' it if it hadn't."

"Must've been nice, growing up with food on the table that's straight from your garden."

"Yeah, it was. Fresh peaches and apples to take to school, home-made bread and the like. We've always lived this way."

"Pretty perfect, if you ask me." Jacqui agrees. "Me and my fiancé were always eatin' take away all the time. God, I miss it sometimes."

"A nice greasy burger sounds so good right now." Lori moans, like she can almost taste it. "Oh, and some curly fries on the side."

They all laugh. It's a little funny. I remember her back in the beginning, braggin' about how her family never ate fast food. Now look at her.

As the conversation drifts to more boring things, I find myself thinking about Beth again. We sure grew up different, but we got broken the same way, at the same time. We clearly been thinking about the same things. She was just brave enough to actually pick up a knife and do something about it. I wonder if she knows now her Momma and step-brother been dead a long time, that they weren't sick at all, and were just bodies needed mourning. The Greenes were a little late to that, but it's like Meemaw used to say, better late than never.

I wonder if Beth regrets what she did. She could be dead right now, in a mound of dirt right next to her Momma.

When I was littler, I used to think Dad could read my mind when I was thinkin' unsavoury things like this, and that he'd give me in trouble right away. I thought that's how it worked with adults and kids, but it ain't. I can think whatever I want and it's safe inside my head.

The potatoes get peeled and diced and thrown into the soup like everything else, and then my new job is to help wash dishes.

When we're down to the last few, Maggie says I should take the bowl of soup up to Beth, 'cause they've got this handled.

"Sure." I agree before hopping down, wondering why my heart's beating so fast all of a sudden.

The door to Beth's bedroom creaks open.

I don't bother waiting for her to give me permission to come in. I just creep in all on my own, because from what I've heard, she hasn't talked all day. Her room is exactly like I would'a guessed. Like something out a trendy teenager's magazine, with a nice white desk covered in perfume bottles and hair clips and crumpled paper and books, blonde pop star posters stuck to the walls, a fluffy, cutesy rug, a teddy bear thrown on the lounge chair sitting by the window. Even the Mp3 player Maggie was telling me about, laying forgotten on the floor.

I carefully set the hot bowl on her nightstand, but something keeps me curious, and I don't turn to leave just yet.

Beth's staring at the wall like they said. Not out the window or anything. Just at the wall. I can't imagine her humming sweetly and letting me borrow one of her shirts, giggling at something I said from the other side of the bathroom door. She looks like a totally different girl.

"I went into shock too, yesterday." I randomly muse. "Or at least that's what Rick said. He's the one with the cowboy hat."

I think I might still be in shock. I'm talking and walking around, but inside, I feel like whatever statue Beth's turned into.

"I ain't sure if anyone's told you about it, but you prolly heard the screamin'. The man my Daddy stabbed, Shane, he took me away. We got pretty far. Sometimes I think about what would'a happened if we got even further, but... he was meant to die. Some people just are."

At that, she breaks her gaze away from that spot on the wall and looks me right in the eye. "Do you think I'm one of those people?"

"I... I ain't smart enough to know." I say honestly, before an awkward pause takes over. "'Cause I was only in grade two, y'know."

Carl seemed to find that funny when I first told him, but Beth just looks uninterested.

"And you?" She hides her bandaged wrists under the covers when she catches me looking. "What're you meant for? Dyin', or somethin' else?"

"I think, um... All I'm meant for is suckin' up hurt." I confess. "Like, there's all this bad in the world, and when there's nobody left for it to go to, it goes to me. Maybe I'm just unlucky. Maybe I done somethin' wrong. That's how life is, my Daddy says. So if that's the 'something else', I think I'd rather just be the type meant for dyin'. That's what my Momma did. She was in pain, and then one day... She wasn't."

"She killed herself," Beth says as fact.

"Yeah." I mutter, feeling the weight of the locket crush down on my chest as I take a seat on the edge of the bed. "She did."

"Was she the sort meant for dyin'?"

"No. She weren't." That much, I'm sure of. "She was just meant to be my Momma."

Beth's pretty eyes gloss over as she says very dully, "Our Mom's dead, too. Right before I thought I was about to die, I imagined what she'd think of me when we'd meet in heaven. She'd be ashamed, I know. Somehow, that was so much worse than the thought of going to Hell."

"Well, maybe your God made sure you didn't die." I guess, hoping it's comforting. "Maybe he wants you to live for everybody else."

A tear beads up on her waterline before sliding down her pale cheek. "I just don't know what to do. I think I'm ashamed, too."

"My Dad says you just gotta be stronger, but I don't know how." I wish I did. "I'm sorry. I'd tell you if I did."

"It's okay." With a sniff, she sends me a tiny smile. "You know, you're kind. I can just tell."

That makes me smile back. Something about my rugged hair, my mean face, my missing ear must still be soft like it was before.

Author's Note.

Sorry for the longer than usual wait between chapters! I've been dealing with intense writer's block recently so it just took me a while to get this out, but I'm pushing through!

I hope you're ready for a familiar face to return next chapter! ;)

PS. I wanted to thank you all for the touching dms and messages I've received recently, both on here and on ao3. It's still so mind blowing to me that there are so many people out there who hold a special place in their heart for this story just like I do. I'm so grateful for you all :) 💙

#the walking dead #fanfic #daryl dixon #twd #twd fanfiction #rick grimes #angst #daryl dixon daughter #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon twd #daddy issues #daryl dixon x reader #ao3 fanfic

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Harley D. Dixon 27

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Author's Note.

Wow, you guys. I got carried away with this one. It's a biggun!!

THREE MONTHS LATER.

Kick.

The soccer ball rebounds off the tyre.

Kick.

I pretend it's a walker head.

We haven't seen one of the dead in weeks, but I know they're out there.

Kick.

Buried in the snow.

Kick.

Just like everything else.

KICK.

It shoots off into the car yard.

I watch it bounce down the aisle of rotted vehicles, bumping up against the chain-link fence. A sigh escapes my chapped lips and blows away in the wind. For what must be the tenth time today, I pull my scarf up and trudge over to the ball.

Aside from day dreaming, this is about the only thing I can entertain myself with nowadays. I can't play so well without a partner, but the afternoons slog on otherwise. It was a couple weeks ago that people stopped wantin' to talk, or tell a story, or try their hand at makin' a joke, a couple weeks before those ones that Rick stopped talkin' altogether. I just don't think any of us have the energy. The only thing we can waste it on is breathing in and out and lighting the campfire every morning. Some days, like today, I even waste it on the ball.

Besides, we don't got anything interesting to say. There's only so many times you can comment on the weather.

Crunch, crunch, crunch, go my boots in the packed snow.

Thinking back on it, the last time I heard Rick say anything that weren't a barked order was the night we slept in an abandoned house. It was the first time since the farm fell that Dad had come back without any game on his shoulder. Carl had tried eatin' an old can of dog food for dinner. I still remember the way the brown meat exploded against the floor when Rick threw it, and we were scared then, too.

So, we went hungry — And almost every night since then, we've gone hungry.

I wonder if Dad's gonna try go huntin' again today, but I doubt it. Ain't worth it, no more.

It'll be a handful of burnt mushrooms for dinner again, tonight.

I bend and pick up the ball, dusting off the snow.

Some months ago, Rick told me that if he had to hear the word mushroom one more time, he'd go crazy. I almost smile to myself at the memory, the day we shared fruit and worked on the fence. If only he knew he'd be eating them every day; that he'd go crazy, anyway.

It was also the day we lost everything, is the souring thought that comes after, just like it always does.

Movement.

I look up, peering through the hexagonal webbing of the fence, out onto the street.

There it is. A white blob with a black marking.

Well, a dog.

A dog sniffs around one of the cars. I ain't seen a dog since before. I realize that for some reason I'd thought they'd all disappeared, and maybe they have, but not this one. He's a stubby little feller. Barely tall enough to see over the walls of snow, but he manages. His pink nose traces down the tyre, taking him underneath the rusted shell. I watch him cram himself through the gap with little effort.

My empty stomach rumbles to me that I should shoot it from here and we can roast it over a fire.

Is it okay to eat the thing that eats the dog food? Is is different from a squirrel?

When he wriggles back out, a dead mouse hangs from his teeth.

Oh. He caught somethin'.

Outta the corner of my eye, Dad approaches me, a sore frown below the brim of his beanie.

He makes a pincer gesture with both hands, shaking them slightly. 'What are you doing?'

I slap my thigh a few times, the sign for, 'Dog.'

When I point, he turns to look.

The dog clumsily gnaws at the skin holding the mouse meat together, letting the head plop onto the ground.

Dad tenses slightly, glancing out at the empty street; the trees beyond it. He thinks the dog might not be alone. Squirrels, possums. They don't got owners. They're too wild and nasty. But dogs do. We wait for a moment for someone to appear, but nobody does.

We're both thinking the same thing, but I'on think Dad will say it before I do.

'We should eat him,' I sign; the smart thing to do. We should eat him. But, 'I don't want to.'

He pauses. He don't want to, neither.

People are predictable like this. The world has up and ended, but we still pray before we eat, we remember our birthdays for no good reason, and we refuse to eat pets. All the bolts in Dad's bow and all the bullets in my pistol are stayin' right where they is.

Dad moves past me, undoing the gate latch and pilling it open, mutely snapping his fingers.

The dog's head snaps up.

Fresh blood paints its lopsided, gaping grin, dripping small jewels into the snow.

It considers the both of us, unsure if it wants to abandon its dinner. His head is droopy and egg shaped, undeniably ugly but in an adorable way, with two black dots for eyes and a chest like a body builder. Bull Terriers, I'm sure they're called. Rodent killers.

Stepping over the little pile of organs, the dog makes up its mind and trots over to us.

Dad kinda flinches when it places its nose in his outstretched hand, relaxing, letting it nuzzle at him.

Luckily, he ain't a human killer.

'It's okay,' He's concluded, guiding the dog inside and latching the gate closed.

I drop to my knees, giggling softly as I cradle the dog's big face, scratching behind his ears. Oh, he loves it. He must'a been lonely.

I mouth up at Dad, Keep him?

Food is scarce, and Lori is sick an' pregnant, but I still hope we can keep him. I'm already preparing a list of reasons we should.

'Everyone's decision,' He signs, before nodding us back the way we came.

Standing up, I follow behind him, and the dog makes sure he don't get left behind.

The garage stands firm in the onslaught of snow. We've made it a sort of home for now, but it's far from paradise. It's old. Small. It don't keep the wind out. Beth, Maggie, T, and Glenn are huddled around the campfire in a patch of melted sleet, the four of 'em the first to notice our return, and our new friend. They perk up at the sight of the dog, before breaking out in smiles.

Kneeling next to Glenn, I help him welcome the dog with pets and cuddles.

Rick's marching over to us before I can even wonder where he is, 'cause ain't nothin' happens without him knowing.

I expect him to be angry. He's always angry when it comes to mouths to feed.

But after exchanging some words with Dad over my head, he surprises me by nodding, stuffing his hands into his coat pockets, watching us. I think I must've got it mixed up, but nope, he sends me the slightest, weightiest of smiles and nods again.

A foreign sort of relief flushes through me at the realization that I don't gotta persuade him.

I'm happy, for free.

Grinning up at everyone, I bask in the wonderful sight of their silent chuckles.

Glenn makes finger guns and taps them together.

'Name?'

I glance down at the dog; give it a good think. If I were a weird little rodent killer, what would I want my name to be?

I know. Dusting off the end of my nose with my finger, I share my decision with the group.

'Mouse.'

I startle as the dog licks my knuckles.

Maggie pouts, mouthing the word, Cute.

'When I found him,' I sign, trying and failing to keep my hands clean of dog-slobber, 'He caught a mouse.'

'He's a hunter,' Dad agrees, approving.

I lead Mouse into the garage to meet the others, ducking under the shutter doors and shivering off the sting of the snow. I wish we could light another campfire in here to keep warm, but Rick says the smoke would kill us faster than the cold will.

Not that it mattered much to my hearing aids.

As it turns out, the cold kills batteries, too.

I've learnt to manage without 'em by now, but I miss it. There were even days where I could hear my own laugh.

At least when the thaw comes back around, I'll be able to use them again.

I step over the piles of blankets scattered across the concrete floor, mindful not to cross paths with any of them. I wouldn't be a very popular person if I trampled somebody's stuff. Any little thing will cause a fight nowadays. We're stacked on top of each other in here. Chickens in a slaughterhouse cage. I learnt that it's easy to lose yer temper here, even if we do love each other, when I woke up durin' the first night. Glenn was apparently muttering in his sleep, sum' about, No, please, this is all I have, before T-Dog shook him awake with a pair of angry hands, growling at him to, Shut the fuck up. Nobody slept after that, but nobody ever really sleeps.

Mouse sniffs around the many makeshift beds, his tail beating back and forth against his muscly legs.

I already know how to study somebody's face to see which side of them I'm getting that day. I did it with Merle all the time. I knew the exact angle of his brow when he was drunk, about to start plottin' murder and makin' loud phone calls to people that owed him whatever it was he got scammed outta that week, the exact angle when he was gettin' mad, when he was asleep, or high, or both.

It's a talent to read closed books. Living like this for so long, I ain't the only one good at it, no more.

'Hey,' I wave to Lori. She's sat against the wall, wrapped in blankets. Not angry today. Safe to talk. 'We found a dog.'

Her bleary eyes widen.

Mouse plods up to the table, where Herschel and Carl are sitting. It's like they think he's a baby polar bear at first, but they soon realize it's safe. He soaks up their attention before slipping through their legs and approaching us, expecting some from Lori, too.

Cautious not to lose her fingers, she sneaks a hand out from under her many layers, stroking Mouse's long snout.

A smile graces her pale lips.

'Where did you find him?', Herschel signs to me, his veiny hands moving fast and precise, 'cause he's the best outta all'us. It ain't all that fair, since I'm the deaf one and all, but this old man has known sign language longer than I've even been alive.

'At the fence.' I answer, watching Carl stand from his seat and join his Momma on the floor, reaching out to pet the dog with her. I stare at the top of his head, tryna remember the last time we spoke. When I look back up at Herschel, I add, 'I was playing.'

'Have you named him, yet?'

Nodding, I make the sign. 'Mouse.'

'Mister Mouse.' He chuckles heartily, reminding me of Santa Claus. It's dim in here from the total lack of windows, but I can still see the way his cheeks crinkle around a mellow smile. I can always count on Herschel to make me feel like there's bread baking in the other room and I can smell it and everything is going to be okay. 'I'm sure he would love to play with you sometime.'

I return his smile, suddenly craving warm bread. 'I hope so. Tyres are bad at soccer.'

'Goodness. I'm sure.'

Calling Mouse over with a few kissy sounds, the two of us duck back under the doors in search of the soccer ball.

'Hey. Watch this.'

'We're watching.'

At the thumbs up Glenn sends me, I turn, focusing on holding the soccer ball in front of me. One, two, three. I drop it onto the toe of my boot and give it a small kick. It flies. Mouse pounces on it like a cat with a ball of yarn, slipping and sending it rolling away.

We been practicing that move for ages.

Looking back at everyone, I notice that they're all clapping for us, cowering their faces into their poofy scarves.

'Did you see?', I ask, just to make sure.

Another thumbs up from Glenn. 'Very cool.'

It weren't very cool at all — In fact, it was total garbage — but it was fun putting on a show.

'Thanks.' As Mouse chases after the ball, I leave him be and return to the campfire. 'I'm so tired.'

I really shouldn't be. I'm only a kid, and kids are supposed to have a lot of energy. I'm sure of it, since our neighbour Betty used to complain to Dad about her boy havin' too much of it whenever the two of 'em smoked together on our porch after work. His eyes would droop like a slow-blinking frog's whenever he got back from the mechanic shop, sometimes sleeping for a whole day, even at the dining table, while he was halfway through a meal. All the adults I knew were tired, but not like this. We's starving; hollow.

I'm jealous of my past self, who used to be able to play soccer for hours on end.

Maggie sends me a sad smile. 'Me, too, honey.'

'Sorry,' Glenn signs to me, 'cause he always says that. 'Come rest. It's warm here.'

'Can I sit next to you?', I ask T-Dog, pointing to the empty seat between him and Glenn.

Like the others, there's two moon-shaped craters hanging below his eyes, bruised an ugly purple against the brown of his skin. The man sends me a deadpan look, as if the cold's gone to my brain. 'No,' Then, sassily; 'Of course you can.'

Rolling my eyes at his attitude, I sit down and lay my head against the canvas backing.

My bones have been replaced with rope, loose and heavy.

I know we're gonna be leaving soon.

That pensive look on Rick's face is easy to recognise, even if he tries hiding it behind his scarf as he stands watch.

According to the map, there ain't no drug stores or doctor's offices for nearly five miles around us, and we're gonna need one. The medicine, what little we'd scrounged up, has ran out. Lori ain't suffering anything worse than a sniffly nose and a cough, but out here, — In the snow and the wind and the rain, with nothin' but a flimsy bitta metal to shelter us from it all — Well, we all know. I asked Dad if the baby in her belly could get sick, too, and all he told me was that none of this is ideal. I understood. When things ain't ideal, people die.

That place Rick was talkin' about, the one that we can fortify and make a life for ourselves in, it's still out there somewhere. He lectures us about it so often it's as if he can't think about anything else, a dog with a bone dangling just in front of his nose.

I bet there's lots of food and medicine there. And even beds. Proper beds, with mattresses and everything.

Maybe even a little mat for Mouse.

Yeah. That would be ideal.

Nobody would die in a place like that.

I tear my gaze from Rick, turning it onto the one big cloud in the sky.

I still think about Shane, sometimes. It comes and goes. Most of the time, he's alive. We're sitting at the picnic table back on the farm, coloring a meadow of flowers together, and then there's an ebbing swash of time where something inside me hurts real bad like I've been shot, and then he's holding my hand in a forest because I'm scared. I'm showing him the frog I've caught, mirroring his grin.

Suddenly, none of the muscles in his face are working and he's looking at me with milky eyes.

I don't wanna shoot him.

Bringing my hand up to my locket, I squeeze the thousand-pound weight between my fingers.

The spot he's taken up in my brain was supposed to be mine, and so was Momma's, and Merle's, and everyone else's.

Even in death, as Andrea said, He's still a fucking asshole.

I wonder if she's still alive.

A girl went missing from our town, once. My Daddy was in the kitchen washing dishes while I watched her Momma cry on TV.

I didn't know Andrea too well, so all my tears are staying inside my face for now. It's not like it was with Sophia. No, we packed into our cars and we fucked off North to a place called Newnan, leaving everything, including her and any chance of finding her, behind.

A bit stupidly, I hope the cows made it out alright.

Then, a hand is waving over the sun.

Lifting my head, I realize it's Dad trying to get my attention.

'How are you?', he signs as I stuff the locket under my sweatshirt.

'Hungry. Tired.' The usual answer; then, 'Everything okay?'

'Yeah. Taking a break.'

'I think Rick wants to leave.'

As Dad eases himself onto the crate beside me, he sneaks a glance at him. 'He does. We were talking.'

The others must be reading our signs, 'cause Maggie butts in, talking with Dad for a minute. I wait 'til they're done.

'We need medicine,' I comment quite uselessly when his attention is back on me.

'That's right. And better shelter. This place is shitty.'

'Do you want to leave?'

'I want you to be safe and happy. So, yes.'

'Are we walking again?'

He makes a face. 'No. We're riding bicycles.'

'Funny, Dad.'

'He wants to head East. The next town is close. Nine miles. There's a hospital there. Might have medicine.' His hands slow down. They hover, unsure. When he picks one back up, he finger-spells the word, 'S-h-a-r-p-s-b-u-r-g.'

The blood in my neck rushes up into my cheeks, and for just a moment, I'm warm.

I wonder if her house still looks the same. With the gravel path leadin' up to the porch, lined with weeds before any of this even began. My bike chained to the wire fence, asking itself where the little girl that loves it has gone as it grows rustier every weekend that passes. The grass was always scratching my knees, wild and forgotten, a bit like me. We made the most of what we had.

I hope the mirror in her bedroom is broke. I hope the kitchen is rotted; loungeroom filthy.

It don't deserve to be the way it was before, 'cause ain't nothin' the way it was before. That was for us.

Dad is waiting for me to say something, but I got nothin'.

Being that close to that house again might just make me start believing' in ghosts, but we need to do it. For Lori.

'No choice.' I sign, plain and simple. 'We need to go.'

He studies me for a moment, torn on something, before nodding and rubbing his fist over his heart. 'Sorry.'

I shrug, playing with the pebbles of lint on my mittens.

I think about Momma, too. She weren't all that different from Shane, especially not in the end. Both were sick, but not in the way that Lori is sick, not with germs. Even now, I don't quite know if it'd be worse knowin' whether or not she turned and lost her mind one last time. At least in the picture in my locket, she ain't ever gonna turn. I'll keep her safe from everythin' outside her little bronze door.

'Forget about that.' Dad waves off the imaginary town, sneering. 'I'm going hunting. You coming?'

I hear that right? Hunting?

All the rabbits are hiding at the bottom of their burrows at this time of year, the squirrels either dead or holed away. Even my Dad, the best hunter and tracker I know, who can shoot a field mouse out a tree, ain't been able to catch nothin' in this weather.

'You tried,' I remind him. 'Many, many times.'

'I know. But,' He nods over his shoulder, where Mouse is rolling around in the snow. 'Now we have help.'

Mouse. Of course.

Our last chance at catchin' a proper meal.

He reminds me of Tank a lil' bit, but smaller, whiter; with all four legs.

I'm willing to give it a chance. 'Okay. I'll come.'

Since we started to catch onto the fact that the cold slows the walkers down, we all been allowed out more.

A pat on my knee. 'Good girl. Let's go.'

He asks Glenn if he wants to come as well, and 'cause he got nothin' better to do and we make a good team, he agrees.

I'm inside a giant snow globe, waiting for the glass to break.

It was about a month ago now that I woke up one morning with my head in my hands, holed up in a gas station, crying snot and tears and dribble 'cause the ringing in my ear had turned unbearable. I didn't believe Herschel at first. My hearing couldn't deteriorate. I didn't even know what that word meant. But no matter what words I did or didn't know, their voices kept getting foggier and the ringing kept getting louder, until one day there was a pop beside my brain, a burst of pain, and then the world went silent. And then I believed him.

I was scared, at first. How could I hear a walker comin', now? Would I never hear my Dad say, I love you, again?

But it didn't take long for us to learn enough sign language to talk to each other, I love you, included. Nothin' would've stopped us. Maggie found a little ASL guidebook with pictures in it while we were passin' through a library. Go, Be quiet, Hide, Run, were the first words Dad made sure I knew. Good morning, Goodnight, and all the other things I'd wanna say. Thank you. Have mine. Fuck off.

Even now, whenever I wake up during the night, I always find one person studying the book, pages cradled by a flashlight.

As the three of us follow after Mouse, snow drifts through the thicket of naked branches like ash, catching winks of sunlight before they kiss the ground. It's hard to feel like I've lost anything when it snows. It's one thing that's always been silent. So have ripples in water, or a smile on a loved one's lips. I've made a place for myself in the silence, and I fit well here. Nobody else is allowed in my snow globe.

Glenn squeezes my mittened hand as I'm watching the falling snow, pulling my gaze up to his face.

With his free hand, he signs, 'Ringing?'

I shrug one shoulder, pinching my fingers. 'A little.'

It never really goes away. It's the one last thing I can hear, but I tune it out.

He attempts a smile, the curve of his cheekbones a raw shade of pink. 'Sorry.'

I always feel guilty when I have to answer that question. I'on know why. It ain't my fault.

'You always say sorry.'

'Sorry.'

Holding back a smile of my own, a real one, I ignore him in favor of watching the snow again.

The memory of that morning we had on the roof of the RV swells in front of me now, pretty and sun-colored, a cherry on my tongue. It was the mornin' after we found out I wasn't dying. I had a life. I had a chance to live it just like everybody else. Equals. Whenever I look at Glenn, I remember that morning. Happy and alive, with a group of our own. A friend. The first one in a long, long time.

When it's just the three of us like this, I always feel like I'm betraying Merle. It's a slimy feeling, one I force myself to swallow it down each time, but I ain't done nothin' wrong. I ain't replaced him on purpose. If I lie, I can say I ain't replaced him at all.

The worst part about it is that Glenn fits better into the void Merle left behind than Merle himself ever did.

My thoughts are interrupted when Dad puts an arm out in front of us.

I jolt, following his gaze.

Ahead of us, Mouse furiously investigates along an invisible trail at the end of his nose. He, too, goes still all at once. He's found something. We watch him square up with a lump in the snow, his tail an exclamation mark. Then there's a rabbit, a bite, a struggle. I squeeze Glenn as snow goes flying. Dad lifts his crossbow. A single bolt is released, and the rabbit is pinned to the ground by its heart.

It twitches around the bolt once, twice, tryna run away like all rabbits do, and then it goes limp.

That's our first kill in weeks.

'Dinner!', I exclaim to Glenn with both my hands, as Dad moves to pluck the bolt out, shaking off the snow.

A long, fat rabbit.

Dad was right. Mouse done spoiled us. Him bein' such a great hunter must be how he's survived this long. Everybody's got a reason. Mine is that I have people who love me, both dead and alive, who have fought tooth and nail to protect me every day.

Dad slings the rabbit over his shoulder, gesturing onwards. 'Let's keep going.'

Taking Glenn's hand again, I have a thought. 'Is his name Rabbit, now?'

He shakes his head, no, both of us falling into step with Dad and Mouse. 'It's Mini Daryl.'

Pssh. Whatever. 'Bad name.'

'Great name.'

I point side-long at Dad, as if saying, Go on, then. Tell him.

He cringes. 'No, thanks.'

'See? Bad name.'

'Are you bullying me?'

'Yep.'

Unamused, Dad gives us a look. 'I'm not blind. I can see your hands.' A pause; glance. 'She's right. Bad name.'

Like I always do when I'm giggling around Dad and Glenn, I say a silent, Sorry, Merle, because he's always been inside my head.

By the time we're walking back through the car yard gate, Mouse has caught us three more rabbits.

Beth's jaw drops.

'Dinner!', I sign to her, grinning, turning to sign the same thing to T and Rick who are stood on watch, their eyes going wide when they notice the bounty. I duck under the shutters and sign it to everyone else huddled in the garage, too. 'Dinner! Come on!'

They follow me out to the campfire, not wasting any time skewerin' and roasting the rabbits as the sun begins setting.

'Well done,' Maggie signs to the three of us, thoroughly impressed.

Dad nods to Mouse, as if to say, Thank him.

Thanks, Mouse, Everyone obliges, and even though he don't understand Human, he still grins his silly, gummy grin. I take a seat next to Dad on the wooden pallet, basking in the delicious smell of bubbling fat and the sight of my smiling family.

The moon is waning over our heads like a pretty marble, passin' through the stars, as we slurp up our greasy, mouth-watering rabbit meat. Even Lori has come out of hiding to enjoy the meal, her thin body curled up next to Rick in the broken car seats, shivering as she nibbles a meaty thigh. There's a bump under her blankets, right on top of her belly, that makes it look a bit like she's hiding my soccer ball under there. Really, it's the baby. Some nights, she lets me put my cheek to it so I can feel the heartbeat from the outside. It freaked me out at first. It's like she swallowed an alien. There's a tiny human in there, separated by only a few layers of skin. I hope it likes rabbit.

I know she needed this. I think we're all relieved to see her eating a good meal after all this time, something fatty and heavy, something to fill out her caved-in cheeks. If we're gonna leave for Sharpsburg at some stage, she'll need the energy. We all will.

Carol says that if it don't come out early, the baby's gonna be born in Spring. I've always thought of the seasons as a clock for huntin', just like my Daddy does. Summer's when all the coyotes come out, and you can stay out late 'cause the sun don't go down 'til after dinnertime. In Fall, the migratory birds start to fly over Georgia to reach warmer places further South. I've always liked watching the V shapes glide across the sky, wishing I could grow a pair of wings and join 'em up there. Spring is baby season. When everything gets born again, from the grass under the mud to the leaves inside the trees to the baby deer, called calves, inside they Momma's bellies.

Babies are good at bein' born in Spring, I told Carol when I could see a tick of worry in her brow, especially after Carl brought up naming the baby Sophia again, You'd think they's dumb, since they's babies an' all, but they know.

I's talkin' outta my ass a lil' bit, 'cause I was a baby once and I was born in Summer, but it made her feel better.

And then there's Winter. Everything's dead in Winter, except for the things that know how to hide.

Swallowing a juicy bite of rabbit, I glance at Mouse.

He lays at my Dad's boots in the snow, both of 'em gnawing away at their scraps of meat like long-time buddies.

Sucking the meat off the warm bone in my hand, I click my fingers to get the dog's attention. He perks up, craning his neck to look at me, his eyes bulging as I toss the bone in his direction as thanks. He catches it midair, crushing it between his teeth.

When my gaze meets Dad's, he gives me a thumbs up and a questioning look. 'Tasty?'

I nod, my own greasy thumb glistening in the light of the fire as I give him one back.

His lip twitches upward, as if he's about to smile, but then he remembers something. 'We're talking about leaving.'

Looking around, I see the whole group deep in conversation as they eat.

'What they saying?'

'Glenn thinks we should stay. He goes to Sharpsburg with T-Dog and they come back with medicine.' He tells me. 'But we can't split up. Dangerous. Could get lost. And we can't stay here. Cold. Not secure. Both; too risky.'

'So we all go.'

He nods, with not much else to say. We all go. 'We leave tomorrow.'

I don't remember voting for that decision, but things ain't worked like that in a long time.

Nine miles. That would be nothin' if we were a flock of birds. Birds can fly twenty-five miles an hour, don'cha know. I know lots of animal facts like that one. Whenever I can't sleep, I try and see how many I can remember until I'm blinking myself awake and the sun is rising. But we ain't birds, and we ain't even got the cars no more. I'on know how fast humans walk, but I guess I'll find out.

Pushing away my thoughts, I sign, 'It's kinda funny. We're surrounded by cars and none of them work.'

'This place is shitty,' He says for a second time, agreeing.

As we make our way through the meal, Dad, Glenn, and T-Dog keep forcin' their food into my hands. They act as if they can't see my signs telling them to save it for themselves, 'cause they're a bunch of assholes. I give up on changing their minds after a while, 'cause I've learnt it never works. Rick and Maggie do the same to Carl, Lori, and Herschel. We're all just a bunch of assholes who love each other.

That night, it's the same routine. Pull down the shutter doors. Tie a shirt through the padlock loop. Switch on the lamps.

I get comfortable in my pile of blankets that I share with Dad, digging through our bag. Wind rattles the garage walls, bullets of rain and hail battering the thin metal. For once, the rumbling of my stomach ain't here to join 'em. I pull out my journal and pencil, starting my ritual of shaving the wood away from the lead using Merle's knife, dwindling it down to the size of a used cigarette. Blowing the dust off, I sheathe my blade and flip to a page I can write on. Ain't no blank ones left, but I can squeeze what I wanna say into the gaps.

As everyone lays down, they keep clutching at their bellies like Lori does all the time, stuffed full of dinner.

Hello, diry, I write, 'cause Lori taught me how, Today was a grat day.

Mouse comes and inspects our blankets before plopping himself down next to me, resting his chin on his paws.

We faund a dog. I named him Mows becoz he kils mise and he is cyut. He caut for rabbits for us. He is my frend.

Dad lays down on my other side, giving my arm a squeeze and closing his eyes.

We are leeving again tomoro. Dad spelt it, Sharpsburg. My Muma uset to live ther but she is ded now. I wont to leev but also I dont. Im a bit scered. Dont tell nobode. At leest we are leeving the car yard befor it gets the chans to kil one of us.

As olways, Rest in peece, M, T, A, M, O, S, S, J, J, P.

I snap the book shut and place it back into the bag, zipping it up and rolling onto my back.

Dad throws a blanket over me as the wind blows in through the slash in the wall, pulling me into him with a strong arm.

Somebody clicks off the last lamp.

Squirrels can jump ten times their body length, I think to myself, focusing on the beat of Dad's heart and the warm weight of Mouse slumped against my legs, before I'm opening my eyes again and there's a band of cool sunlight on my face.

I watch a bird fly past the gap.

We never stay in one place for long.

I hover near the gate along with the rest of the group, clutching the straps of my backpack.

Lori got worse overnight.

I'm looking at her right now, as Rick peels off his coat and wraps it around her. Her face; it's paler than the snow, her nostrils two rings of puffy, red skin, leaking snot onto her lip. She wipes it away, fingers shaking. I almost want to tell Rick to call this whole thing off, but that would be stupid. The sky's cleared up some, making way for the sun. If we don't go now, we'll be stuck here forever.

Threading the last button through the loop, Rick turns and rallies all of us to follow him outta the car yard.

We file out into the open, a trail of footsteps carving a line through the snow.

Rick takes up the front of the line. Dad, the back. When wolves travel in packs, the two strongest of the group do this, too. This way, one can flatten the terrain for everyone else, while the other can keep an eye out, make sure nobody falls behind. That's why I'm in the middle, trailing behind Lori, Carl, and Herschel. We're the smallest and the weakest and the sickest, but I can still trace the treeline with my gaze and watch for danger, grabbing for the hilt of my knife every time a shrub shivers in the wind.

Mouse walks alongside us as we journey, 'cause I think he's decided he doesn't wanna be alone, anymore.

With every step I take, I find myself missing Dad's truck more and more. I know it was just a hunk of old, blue metal on two pairs of wheels, but it's still gone, and I still miss it like I'd miss a person. It's true that it'd been through its fair share of bumpy rides through the forest and countless tyre changes, but ain't nothin' short of an army tank would'a made it outta what happened to it in the end. They came out of nowhere, is how T tells it. We were cruising along the streets of a small town when a group of people jumped us. Way I tell it, they came out from behind some cars that were spilled out across the sidewalks. A gunshot. We veered, straight into the window of a store.

Dad and Rick killed those ones, too. Four people; two men, a woman, and a sorta-kid — A teenager.

I remember the boy's face. Caramel-colored with a nose that looked like a bird's beak, maybe a few years older than my cousin, Tobias, but people always said he had a baby's face. I couldn't figure out if they deserved it. They'd tried to rob us, a small group with two kids and a pregnant woman; our medicine, blankets, water. But back in the beginning, Dad and Merle did the same thing to other groups. Lone cars on the highway, pairs of people as they walked, sleeping camps. It was awful, but it was how we stayed alive.

There was this one night that Dad asked Merle if they should stop while he thought I was asleep.

We're doin' it for her, was all my Uncle had to say.

Every bad person I ever met probably had somebody they was doin' it for.

Their blood pooled onto the tarmac as our blue truck smoked, wedged between a scattering of debris and rubble. The men tried pushing it free for over an hour, but it was stuck there, well and truly. Eventually, we accepted we had to leave it behind.

After that, Rick's truck shut off one afternoon and refused to turn back on no matter what Glenn did to it.

We couldn't all fit into the grey car, or onto the back of Dad's motorbike, so that's how we were left with nothing.

Still, Dad swears up and down he's gonna go back for his bike as soon as he can, soon as we're settled someplace proper. He hid it real good and took the cylinder head with him, so there's a very good chance ain't nobody nabbing it before he can get back there. My Dad's a smartass like that. I think he'd sooner pull all his teeth out 'fore he lets somebody else have his precious bike.

On a little street sign just ahead of us that reads, Poplar, a tiny bird perches.

It chirps and flies off when we get close.

Poplar Street. Two miles down.

Herschel looks at me over his shoulder, his brows made even fluffier than usual by the snow that's gathered on them.

'Doing well?', He checks.

I nod, yes. My feet are achin', but I'm sure I ain't the only one. 'You? I have water if you need.'

'That's okay, sweetie. I'm not thirsty.'

I give him a bit of a stern look, one that Rick would be proud of, but he just turns to face forward again.

Hmph. I'm suddenly appreciating how the others must feel when I refuse their food.

Glancing behind me, I extend the offer to Carl and Lori. When they accept — Well. When Carl accepts and forces Lori to do the same, — Dad alerts Rick, and guides us off the road, into a little eating area beside a kiosk station to take a break. I drop my backpack onto the seat of a wooden table and pull out my bottle of water. Lori and Carl sit down as I unscrew the cap and hand it to them, waiting for Carl to take a small sip first, holding it to his Momma's cracked lips after. Her neck gulps twice before he passes it back to me.

Most everyone else settles down at the other tables, catching their breaths.

Dad approaches the three of us. He points at the bottle with a no-nonsense expression. 'Drink that.'

I'm about to stash it, but do as he says. I am a little thirsty.

'How are you?'

'I'm okay.' I zip the empty bottle away. 'My feet hurt.'

'You can handle it.'

I nod. I can. 'You?'

'Feet hurt.'

'You can handle it.'

He huffs a chuckle. 'Don't be smart. I'm going to check the—.'

I follow his gesture over to the kiosk, nodding and taking the seat next to Carl.

The boy glances at me a couple times, as if it's hard to look at me, like how it's hard to look at the sun for too long before you start seein' shapes. He awkwardly points at my bag. Huh? He touches his fingers to his freckled chin, swiping forwards.

'Thank you.'

He knows how to sign?

All this time, I ain't seen him pick up the guidebook even once.

I ain't sure what to say, so I just nod until he looks away again, and then we're both just watching Mouse sniff the ground.

Boy, do the two of us know how to hold a grudge. Ever since our squabble that afternoon before Dale died, we been holdin' so tight onto 'em we ain't even know what to do with 'em anymore. You're a stupid baby, Harley. I hate your guts, Carl. I'm glad you're not my sister. I'm glad you ain't my brother. Stupid. That was months ago, now, and I might still be a stupid baby — I'll give him that — but I don't hate his guts. I just hate sayin' sorry. My teachers used to say bein' able to apologise is a life skill, but I never saw how it keeps ya alive.

Mustering up the courage to give it a go anyway, I sign to him, 'Back on the farm. I was just—.'

Wait. He's looking at me all confused. He don't understand.

I deflate, embarrassed. Never mind.

'Are you okay?', Beth signs to me from the other table.

'Yeah... My feet hurt.'

'Mine, too.' She sighs wistfully, her blonde hair flying around in the wind. 'We need a massage.'

It forces a giggle outta me. She makes me feel like such a girl, sometimes.

When Dad comes back, T-Dog in tow, it doesn't look like they found much in the way of food or water — Just what looks like a crumpled granola bar and a couple newspapers that we could prolly use to make a fire. Mysterious Infection Hits France, is one of their headlines, not even worthy of a bold font. Dad stuffs the little bar into Lori's coat pocket before he helps her stand from the bench, gently passing her off to Rick. He runs a hand up and down his wife's back, murmuring to her as I sling my backpack on and get to my feet.

I'm okay, I think she's assuring him, trying to brush him off.

Maggie shares a worried glance with Carol, then with Dad.

Before I know it, I'm walking over Rick's footprints again.

There's the river.

I saw it on the map, but it's bigger in person. It's not just a white strip of ink bent around laddering terrain lines. It's a flat, blue sheet of ice wedged between two frozen shorelines, snow scuffing over its surface as the wind pushes it around.

Like I said, I saw it on the map. That's why I know the only road that passes over it is miles away.

We're gonna have to cross it on foot.

'We need to be careful,' Rick turns to address us. He makes sure to sign as he speaks, very obviously struggling to match the volume of the wind. 'I'll go first. Make sure it's safe. Then, Harley, Lori, Carl, and Herschel. Then, the rest.'

There's no option for any of us to dispute the plan, so he goes ahead and nods to himself, sighing and turning toward the thick bank of snow. This is what Rick does. He risks his life, risks falling into rivers and freezing to death, 'cause he's got a few screws lose and he's brave, and some months ago, on the side of the road after our home burnt down, he told us, This isn't a democracy, anymore. I grab onto Dad's hand, squeezing it like a stress ball at the doctor's office before they stick the needle in ya arm, as our leader surfs down the hill.

Fringes of snow break off and roll down as he goes, eventually landing at the bottom.

Okay, I think I can see him mouthing to himself, Okay.

He takes his first step. He holds his arms out on either side of himself. Another step. Another; delicate, as if he's testing out whether or not he's gonna burn his feet, learning he won't, and then doing it all over again with the other foot.

When he reaches the other side, he pulls himself up onto the shelf of snow.

He plops onto his ass.

He made it.

When he realizes this, he raises his hand and waves us over.

I take a deep breath.

Harley, Lori, Carl, and Herschel, is what he said. Harley. I'm next.

'Go slow,' Dad signs to me, looking at me in a very serious way. 'Don't walk exactly where Rick walked. It could break.'

I nod, repeating his instructions in my head as I let go of his hand, forcing myself to approach the ledge.

Sitting down and sliding all the way to the bottom, I push myself to my feet, staring out onto the ice.

Oh, shit.

I swear it ain't look this far from up there.

'It's okay,' Rick's signing to me from across the river. 'You're light. You won't fall.'

'You promise?'

'I promise.'

Okay. Okay, I can do this.

I take my first step. Shit, it's slippery. I almost lose my balance, catching it right at the last moment. My gaze snaps back up to Rick. It's okay, He signs again. I look over my shoulder, where up on the hill, Dad signs the same thing. It's okay. It's like a tight rope. Taking care to mind the puddles of sleet sitting on the ice, I walk the rope one step at a time, water rushing underneath my boots.

When I'm close enough, Rick braces himself on one leg and reaches down for me, hooking his hands under my armpits. He lifts me onto the shelf of snow, setting me down beside him. I clutch his arms, my legs shaking. Oh, solid ground. It's never felt better.

Well done, He mouths, giving both my shoulders a firm squeeze before letting go.

Looking back at the other shoreline, I see a small Glenn and Maggie both sending me thumbs' ups.

'Proud of you, baby,' Dad is signing beside them, as Carol cups her own cheeks, relieved.

'I made it,' I reply, heart pounding.

'Yeah, you did. With sore feet, too.'

I wish I could let out a laugh, but I can't. Not yet.

Lori is next.

Lori, sick and frail, with the baby in her belly.

T-Dog slides down first and catches her when she reaches the bottom, holding her hands to steady her. She carefully steps onto the ice, alone. Her fingers leave T-Dog's. She's so skinny these days, I'm worried the wind might just knock her over. I feel Rick tense against me. Slowly, and cradling her belly, she ventures further out. There's a moment or two I think she might trip, but she makes it.

Rick pulls her up, and then it's Carl's turn; then Herschel's.

The four of us help the old man climb up onto the bank. The worst of it is over.

We wait for everybody else to cross. Glenn and Maggie set out next, keeping a good distance between them the whole way, before Beth makes her way down behind them, doing the same. Everyone calls out encouragement and praise, egging them on. One by one, we work together to pull them up. Glenn. Then, Maggie. Beth, who's shaking like a little lamb. And Mouse, who don't even need our help.

As Rick and Maggie pull Beth up, the last ones to begin their crossing are Dad, T-Dog, and Carol.

They're halfway across when Mouse starts barking.

A head appears over the hill behind them. Shoulders. A fleshy ribcage. It's a walker. An actual walker. It don't know where its goin', blindly trudging forward, skirting the ledge. It's gonna fall down. Everyone realizes this at the same time, suddenly pointing and shouting things. The three of them stop in their tracks. They turn to look behind them, just as the thing takes its next and final step. With no more ground to stand on, it falls head-first into the slope, tumbling, once, twice. It smacks into the ice, a cannon ball of limbs.

A line as thin as a hair shoots out from under its body.

A crack. The ice is cracking.

My body lurches as if I'm about to do something, about to climb down there and help, but we can't.

The only way we can help them is by staying off the ice.

The line grows longer and longer. It's under Dad's boot before he can even take a step. His chest heaves, staring down at it. Carol and T-Dog linger nearby, terrified, as if any flinch or gasp from them will send them all under. He pulls his crossbow off his shoulder. I'm not sure if he's about to shoot the walker, or maybe ditch the bow to lessen his bodyweight, but he don't get to do either.

His leg goes straight through the ice.

He falls onto his forearms. His weight splits the line into three; snaps the surface into pieces.

SPLASH.

Both he and Carol are suddenly neck-deep in the water.

I think I squeal a little bit, 'cause I feel it in my throat.

The walker lifts its head.

T-Dog looks back at us, shouting and holding his hand out. He wants something. Rick catches his meanin', unholstering his pistol and rearing it back, hurling it as far as he can over the river. T-Dog told us he used to be the best player on his baseball team in high school, so he catches it with one hand, pulling the slide back to check the chamber. I guess we can stop callin' him a liar, now.

The walker drags itself forward, clawing marks into the ice.

Dad reaches under the water, teeth bared, face scrunched, hauling his crossbow out and slinging it across the ice.

It spins across the slippery surface, coming to an eventual stop someplace that don't matter anybody.

T-Dog raises the gun.

He pulls the trigger.

There's a flash of light, and at the same time, a spurt of black blood.

As soon as the walker is dead, he takes a step toward, but Dad shouts at him and he stops.

Water goes flying as he grabs for purchase, setting his elbow on the ice. He puts his weight on it. The ice crumbles like a cookie. He tries again, this time keeping his body as flat as he can, and manages to pull himself up onto his stomach.

I can only imagine how much it hurts, but he pushes through it, army-crawling over to Carol.

They lock hands.

With what little strength he has left, he drags her out, too, letting her collapse beside him.

They both lay there, the wind blowing over their bodies as they struggle to suck in a full breath, curled up like shrimps.

T-Dog wastes no time. He teeters and slips around on the sleet as he kneels, grabbing a fistful of their coats and pulling them further away from the broken ice. They're not moving. It's like they've turned into the frozen walkers, their joints all locked up from the cold, unable to hinge. T-Dog gets Carol to her feet first. As Rick, Glenn, and Maggie hurry down to the shoreline, I follow after them and grab onto Carol the moment she's within arm's reach. We all help pull her up, as T-Dog spins around, waddling back to Dad.

Carol's legs give out. Her body lands in the snow, her arms wrapping around her stomach.

Over her hip, I watch as T-Dog, strong as an ox, gets all one-hundred-and-ninety pounds of my Dad to his feet.

When they reach the bank, we all grab for him.

Even through the layers of fabric, I can feel the deadly cold seeped all the way through his skin. As we lay him in the snow, he winces, his hair frozen stiff and his cheekbones redder'un cherry popsicles. I cup them with my mittened hands, crouching at his side.

I'm grateful I can't hear any of the panicking around me.

I just hold him, waiting for him to open his eyes.

When he does, they're blue, like the river.

Then, Rick and Glenn are pulling him up. I give them space, letting 'em hook each of his arms around their shoulders. Maggie and Beth follow suit and with Carol, hugging their arms around her waist, frantically looking for direction from our leader. He points. We all follow his finger. There's a couple tiny buildings just up the road, not too far. That's where we're going. We need to get Dad and Carol warm. We start making our way over there without a second thought, bracing ourselves against the snow coming down on us, now.

We reach the yellow security barriers. Carl helps me force them upwards, letting everybody through. It looks like this place was a ticket and security checkpoint. There's two little booths, the windows smeared with old blood, and a bigger building in the middle. Rick kicks that one's door in, making way for us to spill inside the kitchen-sized room, as they set Dad down on a dirty bed in the corner.

The two girls gently lower Carol down next to him, helping her peel off her wet clothes.

Taking Dad's coat zipper in my fingers, I rip it all the way down and pull him out of it, quickly doing the same with his shirt.

Rick casts about. He spots a wastebin in the corner of the room and moves it to the middle, taking the newspapers that T-Dog is offering him from his backpack. Glenn passes him a lighter as he stuffs it down. Flick, flick. He cups it; holds it there.

It catches.

—hould be contained within a week, according to the French Health Ambas—, it reads, before curling around the flame.

As warmth begins to emanate, I move down to Dad's boots, unlacing them, tossing them away with his socks. He's left in just his jeans, with barely enough energy to hold his hands out to the steadily burning pages of the Washington Post.

Taking off my own coat and cuddling up to his side, I hope I can give him some of my body heat. I don't have much of it, but I don't need it all. I'm happy to share it. Already, he looks a little less awful just by being outta the wind. Carol has been stripped down to her bra and cargo pants, shivering as Maggie fits her into a spare sweatshirt. Pulling my beanie off, I fit it onto Dad's head. He looks silly. Shirtless with his edgy tattoos on display, wearing his daughter's pink hat. When Maggie passes me another sweatshirt, I help dress him in that, too.

As I work, T-Dog approaches us, setting the crossbow against the wall.

A pearl of water drips off the end of Dad's nose as the man leaves.

I study him, feeling guilty. 'I wanted to help.'

He frowns at me.

I add nothing more. There was nothing any of us could do, but I still wanted him to know.

Everyone finally settles around the tiny fire, absorbing every last ounce of heat it has to offer.

Rick signs to me, 'We can stay the night.'

'Thank you,' I nod.

As he moves his attention elsewhere, I sneak a glance at Lori.

She's coughing. A yellow glob falls into her hand, before she wipes it on some newspaper. I know that ain't good.

We stay like this for a while. The only way to tell that time is passing at all is every minute or so, when someone adds a fresh wad of newspaper to the fire to keep it alight. Paper burns fast, but it also creates a lotta smoke. We eventually have to open all the windows to let it out, which in turn lets the cold in, but our only other choice is to suffocate to death. Ain't nobody in the mood for that.

Once Dad and Carol have both fallen asleep, I take out the little ASL handbook from my bag, scooting back to sit against the wall. I might as well get some studyin in, if we ain't leaving for a while. I rest it the crook of my thighs, flipping to a dog-eared page.

To sign, IMAGINATION, it reads, Start by extending both pinkies.

The little hands in the picture look like they's holdin' invisible teacups, so copy them, and it's easy enough.

To sign, OPINION, the picture directly below it reads, Start by creating a circle shape with one hand.

A kick to my boot.

Startled, I look up at my attacker.

It's Carl.

He points to the empty spot next to me. I ain't got any real reason to decline, so I give a nod, making a little extra room for him as he settles down at my side, only to do nothin' but fiddle with his fingers in his lap. I can't ask him what he wants.

Suddenly, he takes the book from me, thumbing through the alphabetical section.

He stops when he reaches S, studying the first picture on the page.

To sign, SORRY, it reads, Start by forming a fist.

My eyes go wide, watching the boy do as it says. Place it over your heart, making a grinding motion. He glances at me, silently asking if he's doing it right. He's not, obviously. You ain't s'posed to leave a bruise. But I get the message loud and clear all the same. He's sorry. Maybe for calling me a stupid baby, or for telling me that even though I know what a chantrelle mushroom is and I can shoot a gun, I still ain't worth nothin' without somebody else around to watch out for me; him around. Or maybe just for what happened at the river.

Before I can decide which one it is, he gets to flippin' again, finding what he wants at E.

He blanches. Got more than he bargained for with this one.

Still, he gives it a go.

It's slightly wrong again, but there's only one sign I know that looks like that.

'Everything.'

He stares at me, boyishly unsure, not looking very much like his Dad anymore like he wishes he did.

You don't need to be sorry, I'd sign to him if he could understand, You were right. I do need help, sometimes.

'Me, too,' I sign instead, reaching over and flipping to the page with the same phrase, and signing it again.

He glances from my hands, to the page, back to my hands again. I'm sorry, too. I think that's all we need to say, but I'll still add this last bit on, anyway. Word by word, I use the book to translate. It's obvious we could use my diary and pencil to write messages to each other. It'd be easier, but easier don't feel right. Anybody can do that. It's only the special ones that will learn your language.

When the sentence is complete, I rest my hands in my lap, watching his face for a reaction.

'You're my brother.'

He's stunned for a moment, and it's a long moment.

But then there's a tiny smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Carl is my big brother, and that's just the way things is. It ain't my fault we're in this little family together, that we've seen people die together, been scared and hurt together, that he let me cry on his shoulder one night and never mentioned it again.

He consults the book one last time before lookin' me in the eye, signing back, 'You're my sister.'

Always have been.

When I jokingly flip to the page that reads, To sign, I LOVE YOU, he snaps the book closed. A genuinely disgusted expression plagues his face, looking like he's just eaten rotten broccoli. It makes me forget all about how cold I am as he gets up and walks away.

It's nighttime when I open my eyes.

Lifting my cheek from Dad's shoulder, a yawn parts my lips. The sight of the moon peeking over the windowsill greets me, glass pulsing a faint orange as the fire in the wastebin burns nearby. I can see Rick out there, hugging himself next to a little light.

Scooting off the mattress, the guidebook falls from my lap.

I pull on my socks and boots. I don't think I'll be able to get back to sleep, anyway.

I remember in the Winter, when it was time to get dressed for school and work, Dad used to lay our clothes over the electric heater that we always had plugged into our living room wall. We'd make a game of it, pretending we were cooking steaks over a grill while the sky turned from black to grey, to white, to blue. His boss at the mechanic's shop had him startin' his shifts at six in the morning, while Merle and everyone else in our trailer park was still asleep in their beds. It was unfair, but he always found ways to make sure I never found out.

Grabbing a stick of newspaper, I stand and tip-toe my way through everyone sleeping on the floor.

When I open the door, I shoulder myself into the cold and step out.

It closes behind me.

In the middle of the outstretched road, Rick sits with his back to everything, staring up at the stars.

I wonder if he's got a person up there, just like I do.

As I come to sit beside him, he lowers his gaze; regard me with an empty sort of look.

I don't mind it none, instead opting to study the creative setup in front of us. A metal cooking pot filled with damp sticks, a small flame flickering amongst the ash and dirt at the bottom. I take the paper in my lap and ball some up, tucking it into the pot.

'I thought you might be cold,' I explain as the flames grab onto it, growing larger. 'Your fire sucked.'

He doesn't smile; lips heavy, downturned.

I sign something else. 'Why are you out here?'

'Can't sleep.'

Well, I guessed that. 'Are you okay?'

A sigh leaves his body, sucked into the wind. He's not going to answer that. 'You should go inside.'

'I'm not tired.'

'Doesn't matter. Come on.' He moves as if to stand, holding a hand out for me to take, but I cross my arms over my chest and stay right where I am. He tries waiting me out, but it's useless. Settling down again, he hesitates before signing, 'Stubborn.'

Unfolding my arms, I finally get him to crack a smile as I sign, 'I know.'

It's wiped away when he flinches uncomfortably at something.

'Was there a noise?', I guess, confused.

The horizon gapes emptily at us from afar, a black stripe. I can't see anything unusual.

'Lori.' He supplies, defeated. 'She's coughing.'

A soft, oh, slips from my mouth.

'It's why I'm out here.'

The only thing I can think of to say is, 'She'll be okay.'

It's not much, but Rick still reaches out and takes my shoulder, attempting a smile before dropping his hand.

I'm on the side of the road again, the trees looming over me, tucked between old cobble walls as the farm sits some miles away, whatever that's left of it burning to a crisp. The door is there, is what he snarled at us. Let's see how far you get. The world was an open set of jaws in that moment. While I'm almost certain Dad and I would've made it, because like T says, we're cockroaches, I don't know for sure if the rest of the group would have, if Beth, Herschel, and Carol would have. We've been together since... Everything.

But I do know that we chose Rick, and he chose us. I would say it's like this thing called symbiosis, which I learnt about in second grade. But it's not. My teacher told us that without the egrets and the anemone and the sucker fish, the cattle and the clown fish and the sharks would die. They can't make it alone. But we ain't a family because we'd die otherwise.

We're family because Dale had this stupid old watch while he was still alive, and he said that despite everything, our paths aligned at the quarry all the same, and then I got scratched and a whole bunch of awful stuff happened, like explosions and gunshots and broken fences, and we blinked, and now we love each other so deeply we don't care if we could survive apart.

'You're doing a good job, Rick,' I sign.

It might be the fire, but his eyes go shiny afterwards. Yeah. I'll pretend it's the fire.

He got us to the CDC. Got us out. Killed Sophia. Jim. His best friend, just a few days later. Those four people on the road.

He touches his chin. 'Thank you.'

I can tell he doesn't believe me. M, T, A, M, O, S, S, J, J, P. I don't know how else to convince him. Maybe I can't.

Absentmindedly watching the fire dance, I clutch the locket through my sweatshirt.

'What is that?', Rick asks.

Thinking nothing of it, I pull the thing free, letting it sit against my sternum. 'Shane gave it to me.'

Something about Rick twists at the mention of Shane, making its way onto his face like a curling snake, a nasty scowl. He holds his hand out, wanting to hold it. A little unsure, I thread the chain over my head and carefully lay the pendant in his palm.

Bringing it closer to his lap, he glares down at the olive of metal as if it's his best friend reincarnated.

'When we were at the gas station,' I tell him, trying not to remember the blood, 'We argued. He gave it to me after.'

The BANG, the spike of blood, his arms shielding his face as he lay on the floor.

I think... I think I don't like this.

'Can I have it back now?'

His grip turns white.

Feeling a bit like I'm interrupting something that should be private, I don't bother asking again, just reaching ou—

My hand is knocked away. He rears his arm back — Oh, God. My heart, going cold as the snow. — and throws the locket into the fire. It disappears beneath the flames. I exclaim something, a half-word or maybe a shriek, like I've been burned at the same time as the brown thrasher and the photo of my Momma inside. My hands shoot out all on their own to grab for it, but I reel them back in.

I need to— I need to put the fire out. I've gotta smother it with something.

Frantically starting to scoop up handfuls of the snow around us, I think Rick realizes he's made a terrible mistake. He seems to wake up, pushing himself to his feet to try and help me save it, grabbing more, more, and more snow, dumping it onto the fire.

The light goes out all at once, smoke trailing up into the air, a dreadful, blackened smell.

He claws through the pot, wincing as he touches the metal, pulling out the locket.

When he thumbs the door open, the photo is nothing but a stain of soot.

I stand there, too big to fit inside my skin, my everything shaking with a different type of horror.

It's gone.

Rick stares at me, the smoke blowing past him.

My snow globe bulges in all directions like a pulsing heart, silent as ever. The door to the staff room opens over Rick's shoulder, my Dad hugging himself as he steps out. I was supposed to look after her. She was supposed to be safe in there. He's spewing apologies before my Dad even understands what's happened, but he catches on quick. The thing in his hand is my locket. It's ruined.

You did this?, I think he's needling him, or sum' like it. The Hell is wrong wit'chu?

Rick's shaking his head, cradling it like it's a pile of bones he can put back together. I'm sorry. I didn't know.

Just give it back!, I demand.

It's the first time I've tried to speak aloud since losing my hearing, the syllables an awkward tar in my teeth.

I snatch the locket from his grasp, giving the pot a hard kick before storming away.

SLAM.

It wakes everyone up, but I can apologise later, 'cause right now I'm throwing myself onto the mattress and pulling the blanket over my head, sealing myself away from them all. This ain't the farm. I can't just hide away in a tent somewhere, or take a breather in one of the paddocks. I'm stuck in this stuffy room, where I know I'm being stared at even through the blanket. I know how to ignore it.

The locket is a hot coal in my hands, illuminating the dark pocket as the last of the photo smoulders.

A long while passes.

Then, somebody's sittin' down next to me.

They don't move for a long while, just a comforting heat at my side.

Then they lift the blanket up, and it's Dad, pulling it over his head so we're both hiding under it.

'She's gone,' I fill him in before he can ask, just in case he ain't already know.��For real, this time.

He saw. 'I know.'

'It was Rick.'

A pause. 'I know.'

'Did you punch him?'

'Did you want me to?'

I think about it for a moment, tracing the smear inside the locket door, before shaking my head. 'No.'

I know it's stupid. It's just a photo, but it was the only one I had. I won't be able to see her face whenever the feeling strikes anymore, or if I find myself missing her more than usual. I'm already committing the photo to memory so I don't forget her face.

'He said Shane gave it to you.' He signs, more of a musing than an accusation. 'I didn't know that.'

I never told him where I got the locket. It could've been from Beth, Maggie, Lori. Anyone but Shane.

No point lying, now. 'Well, now you do.'

'Why did you keep it?'

I don't know. 'I missed him.'

He fails to say anything for a minute or two, but then he picks his hands up again. 'Do you still miss him?'

You're allowed, Carl muttered into my shoulder that night.

'Yeah.'

'You know he was a piece of shit, don't you? '

I scoff through my nose. That ain't even the half of it. 'Yeah. I know.'

He eyes the locket, as if wanting to take it away from me.

My fingers curl around it protectively, holding it to my chest.

It's mine. He's gonna have to fight me for it.

He studies my face for a while, but we both know he's not gonna fight me. No. Instead, he pulls the blanket down, tucking it around my shoulders. I force out a sigh and rest my head on his chest, feeling him stroke his thumb up and down the slope of my cheek.

After the rest of the group see I'm more or less alright, they lay their heads back down.

The window sits there, pulsing orange.

Both the moon and Rick are exactly where they were before. He's back to consulting the stars, this time, without the light.

Author's Note.

So, I've obviously decided to spend a little more time with the group before we reach the prison. I'm anxious to get us to season three, but I just felt like there's some story beats left over from the farm that could use their own space. I hope you enjoyed it! :)

Besides, writing non-canon is so fun. It just brings me closer to this version of the characters, you know?! That might be a little corny, but corny is what I do best! You know this by now.

Heads up - You can expect only one more Winter chapter after this one.

Please let me know what you think of the new dialogue format, with everyone using sign language now. It's not permanent, seeing as Harley will have her hearing aids back once the weather gets warmer, but she's still 95% deaf and will rely on ASL most of the time.

It was a bit of a bold move to fully lean into Harley's disability, but in my opinion, it was the only natural progression. I did a bit of googling, and to the best of my knowledge, everything here is anatomically realistic and accurate. Oh, and so is all the ASL! :)

However, there isn't actually a river separating Newnan and Sharpsburg... Shhhh! ;)

One last thing. This story's playlist has gotten quite a lot bigger. Check it out!

I'll be working hard on the next chapter! Thanks for reading 💙

#the walking dead #twd #twd daryl #daryl dixon #rick grimes #twd fanfiction #daryl dixon daughter #angst #fanfic #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon twd #daryl x reader #fluff #hurt/comfort #glenn rhee

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laurie-stark · 2 months

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THE WALKING DEAD: FEAR, LOVE & DYING

I wrote a new fanfic! It's follows the journal entries of Abigail Grimes, an OC who is the older sister of Carl Grimes. Read it here!

#the walking dead #twd #rick grimes #carl grimes #rick grimes x daughter!reader #rick grimes x daughter!oc #carl grimes x sister!oc #original characters #lori grimes #shane walsh #twd fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon

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back-and-buckynastier-than-ever · 1 year

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can someone pls help me find this TWD fic, pretty pls…

What I remember (spoiler alert):

Basically the reader is related to Rick (cant remember if she’s his daughter or niece) and Negan ends up shooting her when he comes back to Alexandria with his crew. It was an accident, i think she got in front of someone to protect them. But he sees how it effects rick and mocks him until someone points out why he’s so upset. It had originally been kept a secret from Negan and them that they were related in hopes of protecting her from something just like this. Pretty sure she dies…

this is so sad and angsty but I really wanna read it again pls, and if ur the one who wrote this story, BIG SHOUTOUT TO U <3

#twd fanfiction #rick grimes x reader #negan x reader #rick grimes #carl grimes #grimes!reader #angst #rick grimes x daughter!reader

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sheriffgrimes-archerdixon · 26 days

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The hat

Summary: reader goes missing and only leaves one sign of life: the sheriff’s hat Carl had given to her.

Tw: angst, gore, walkers (both characters are 18!!)

Rick grimes’ sheriff’s hat had been passed down many times. And Carl took it upon himself to give it to you, as a sign of protection of some kind. Carl when he was little always stated that when his dad would wear the hat then he would be protected from all the violence in the world, and in some ways he was correct… but all of that hope and belief turned into some sort of horror as soon as Carl stumbled upon the sheriff’s hat left discarded on the floor.

“Y/n!!” Carl yelled as he ran around desperately searching for you, running upstairs of the home and downstairs, the gated community of Alexandria was safe.. always.. but you’d never leave without telling him. The hat was held in his hand before he eventually put it down on top of his head as he sprinted back downstairs palm skimming lightly against the banister before he stumbled outside seeing Rick talking to michonne. “Dad!!” Carl practically screamed, making the former sheriff’s head snap in his direction seeing the sheer fright on his sons face “woah… what’s wrong?” His hand came to rest against carls shoulder to try and calm him down “y/n’s missing!”

“Missing?” Rick spoke confused, Carl nodding breathing heavily “I found the hat discarded… I looked all around but I can’t find her. I asked Eugene and Rosita but they said they didn’t see her go out.” Rick’s face twisted with concern, his hand coming up to rub against his forehead, pinching against the bridge of his nose “she doesn’t just leave she would’ve told me!” Carl spoke with wide worried eyes, Rick nodding, hand quickly tentatively grabbing onto the boys shoulder “I know. I know… it’s unlike her. I’ll get a few people to go out and look for her. She couldn’t of gone far.” And as Carl’s lips parted Rick only shook his head already knowing what he was going to say. “No. You stay here… I know how much you love that girl. I don’t want you getting hurt by jumping into action..” he spoke simply, Carl disliked that, but knew damn well his dad was right. And so he would just have to sit and wait around for good news.

—

Hours had passed by and although multiple search groups had been sent out, they had returned empty handed and now it was dark. The sheriffs hat was still planted firmly upon Carl’s head. He couldn’t sit still. He couldn’t calm down either. You and Carl were best friends, you had been best friends for a long long time even before the apocalypse and now with you missing he was beyond terrified for you.

Carl had dinner with his dad and michonne, not being able to eat much- too nervous. “Do you think she’s dead?” He questioned, Rick giving him an almost warning look to not give up before silently shaking his head. No one else spoke a word, as often times if you speak of something you fear then it will happen. Even as dinner was finished and everyone went to bed, Carl remained wide awake, now sat upon his bed packing a bag. He wasn’t going to give up. He was going to find you. As he zipped up his bag he threw it over his shoulder, opening the bedroom window and carefully climbing out, carefully so, until he felt his feet hit the floor before he immediately but quickly fled towards the gates that were left unattended, he silently slipped out of the gate shutting it behind himself before he began the long hike to try and find you.

Carl walked for ages and now it was pitch black, he continued searching around for you, but it was practically impossible to find you. He was growing worried and more sure about the fact that you had been killed until he heard an abrupt scream- his head snapping in the direction of the sound before he began sprinting wasting no time to come to this persons rescue hoping it was you. He saw and heard walkers all around but he didn’t stop, until he blindly slammed into something or rather someone. He feared it was a Walker but as he pulled back and saw your familiar face, dirty and mucky his eyes widened “y/n!” He exclaimed his eyes remaining wide, watching as your eyes teared up “Jesus Christ where were you?!” His hands came to caress against your face the groaning of incoming walkers getting closer and closer but Carl was in too much shock.

“I wanted to impress Daryl. By hunting a deer… he has been teaching me all these techniques and tricks to follow the markings on the ground but.. I— I guess I’m not ready.” Carls brows furrowed, but he knew how you always critiqued yourself way too often and constantly wanted to impress “fuck y/n.” He murmured shaking his head before he stood up grabbing onto your hands and pulling you up, instantly noticing the limp you had but he didn’t question it, instead wrapping your arm around his shoulder as he began helping lead you away from the herd of walkers. Your breathing was heavy as you gripped onto him “I- I just wanted to try and be an adult.” You spoke to him quietly “well you’re not. And if you keep pulling dangerous shit like this you’ll get yourself killed!” His words were harsher than they intended to be, and he immediately felt guilty for the way he spoke to you, murmuring an apology to you as he helped guide you somewhere safe.

Eventually the two of you found an old abandoned house, in the middle of no where. He helped you sit down before he sat down keeping his eyes on you worried and upset before he shook his head “you could’ve been killed.” He murmured and you nodded slightly embarrassed before looking down. He exhaled softly before he pulled the hat from his head and slowly popped it back onto your head leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek “next time you do that… wear your hat.” He spoke with a small smile, hand caressing against your cheek.

“Okay… deal..” you said with a small smile, you knew Rick and michonne were going to kill you and murder Carl for being this stupid. “You missed by the way.” You spoke with a playful grin and Carl raised his brows before you puckered your lips making Carl laugh “god you’re unbelievable sometimes.” He muttered before nonetheless leaning in and kissing you on the lips gently. “My dads gonna kill me.” He murmured against your lips and you smiled “oh no.” You spoke sarcastically a playful offended look appearing on carls face before he rolled his eyes “unbelievable.” He chuckled shaking his head.

(Part two on reuniting Rick and michonne+ their reaction?? Maybe? Lmk!!)

This took me forever to get out. Im sorry!!!

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antisocial-thing · 1 year

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💧°Rain pt. 2°💧

It had been one of those days. She had been wandering aimlessly for a few days, finding absolutely nothing. So you may ask - what was different about that day?

Well, it was the first time she had seen an alive human being since leaving the last group. And God, she wished she hadn’t.

The crying reached her first. Walkers couldn’t cry, hence why it confused her. Crying did not mean a good thing which told her not to interfere. It meant people, and people meant danger.

It was like even the wind warned her not to go in that direction. It was getting colder every day. Autumn was coming faster than she would’ve liked. She’d survived a few winters so far, but that didn’t mean it had got easier to overcome. She still remembered the first harsh winter. The horrifying cold gave her visible scars on her hands. Now she knew to keep them warm.

She decided to go towards the noise. Uncertainty kept bugging her and the crying was still giving her a bad feeling. She guessed there was a bit of empathy left in her.

A two-story house showed up for her to see. It was huge but also in the middle of nowhere. Anything could happen there.

There were four crosses sticking out of the ground. And a woman sitting on the dirt beside them, crying.

The woman surprisingly noticed her careful footsteps on the path. She quickly turned her head towards the girl. Wild eyes were watching her, she could sense it.

“Please, please, can you help me? My son, he’s in the house, he needs medicine. Do you have any?” The woman rapidly approached her, trying to get her attention. She attempted to touch the girl’s hand, only for her to flinch away from the unwelcome touch.

“Is there anyone else?” she asked quietly, looking over the woman’s shoulder, observing the windows. There was no movement.

“No, just my son, please, help us.” The desperation in her voice convinced the girl. She gave the woman a hesitant nod.

“Follow me.”

The second she stepped inside the house, she instantly blacked out after being hit in the head with a dull object.

A throbbing and constantly intensifying ache brought her back to consciousness. She could feel something sticky dripping down her back. Her vision was cloudy. She couldn’t make out the faces in front of her. There were plenty. At least four.

The stench of rotting flesh caused a wave of nausea. She tried to get her head away from the smell, only to be slapped. Hard. This time she could feel the blood in her mouth.

“Mommy, mommy, the bitch woke up!” A sick laugh reached her ears, irritating her oversensitive senses. As much as she wanted to get it together, it was impossible. She could only feel the rope around her wrists and a wooden chair holding her weight.

“Hey, look at me, you fucking slut, or I’ll cut your eyes out!” she winced at the loud voice. The fog finally cleared. Her life was in danger. She couldn’t afford to lose it over somebody like this. Not like that. Not this time.

They were in some sort of a basement. She could see and smell the dead bodies piled up around them. She tried not to acknowledge them, though. It helped her think more clearly.

But it was a particularly difficult task when she had four hostile and psychotic people looking at her as if she was their next meal. She had to get out of there, no matter what she would have to do to achieve that.

The girl let one of them trace her inner thighs with his awful hands, knowing she needed just a little more to her the rope around her wrists loose enough. If that was the cost, then so be it.

“She’s just perfect. Can I play with her after Markus is done? Pretty please, mommy.”

Just as “Markus” turned his head with a scowl to scold his brother, she had to use the occasion to her advantage. It was probably the only one she got without events escalating further and she was grateful for that chance.

A swift kick landed directly on the chin of the man leaning down in front of her, knocking him out for a long time. Not to mention the state of his jaw which was dislocated and the missing teeth lying on the floor.

The rest’s reaction was predictable. Rage, fury, anger - she could see their glares, the clenched fists. It was either them or her who would walk out of there alive. The survival mode was on.

The first to move was the brother closest to her. He wasn’t even bothered by the body of his own family, choking with his own blood while remaining unconscious.

He just charged at her without any thought which was a fatal mistake for him. The girl had already searched through the table with various tools behind her, quickly finding a long screwdriver, long before he even made the first move.

Blinded by rage, the man didn’t notice the weapon, and that only had one outcome. His body fell next to the first with a loud thump. The screwdriver stayed stuck in the middle of his forehead. A perfect stab. She just had to do it two more times now. There was no way to escape, she had to get through them. As much as she wished she hadn’t, she had to get out of there alive. Because alive was what mattered the most those days.

The woman which had led the girl into a deadly trap was weeping softly, kneeling beside the bodies. Meanwhile, the prisoner was waiting for the next enemy’s move.

The third brother wasn’t much of a thinker just like the rest of them, therefore the girl used the chair she was not so long ago tied to to defend herself. The impact of the hit was so massive the wooden construction fell apart immediately. Three down. One to go.

It seemed like time had stopped. The mother was looking at the third dead body. A blanc expression in her eyes petrified the girl who suddenly acknowledged the weight of her actions.

Before she had any chance to do anything, the grieving woman charged at her and grabbed her hair in a fist, making the girl look up with a grimace of pain.

“I let you into our house and this is how you repay us?!” The woman didn’t waste time turning them both around and smashing the girl’s head into the table. A muffled scream tore out of her chest as blood started to flow freely from her nose.

She lost track of time for a moment due to the hits making her drowsy and overwhelmed with pain. However, she could feel the mother was losing strength with each smash. The girl reached around the table clumsily with hope that she would find something useful.

When she felt a cold, small but long object she didn’t hesitate. The girl stabbed her attacker blindly and broke out of the grasp, finally looking at her.

The mother didn’t even yell. She just cursed quietly and took the nail out of her shoulder as if nothing happened.

“Let’s end this. We both know only one of us survives. Because that’s what this is about. Survival.” she dropped the nail, letting a moment pass before diving for a final attack.

They both fell to the sticky floor as the mother tackled the girl, closing her hands around the younger’s neck. The lack of air was all she could think about. She kept looking at the kidnapper’s face as she was passing out with each second.

You can never give up. You just can’t.

Again, she weakly searched the floor, doubting she would have the same luck for the second time.

And then she caught the chair leg with all her strength she had left.

She didn’t count how many times the wood made contact with the mother’s head but after the hands left her body a fury she’d never felt before took over her mind and body. She just kept hitting and hitting and hitting until there was nothing to hit anymore. She was safe yet again.

But was the price of safety worth it?

That was the day when she killed alive human beings and she felt utterly disgusted with herself, even though she walked out of that place in, more or less, one piece.

The world had become a cruel place indeed.

#twd #the walking dead #daryl dixon x daughter!reader #daryl dixon #rick grimes

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trashcanband4 · 1 year

Text

Torn Ch. 8

Torn Masterlist

Pairing: DarylxOc. Eventual DarylxOcxRick. Setting: The Greene Farm. Warnings: Mentions of substance abuse. A/N: Sorry if you got tagged and didn't want to. Please let me know if you want to be removed or added to the tag list.

Cassie woke up in the pitch black truck to the feel of Daryl's fingertips gently slipping up and down the small of her back where it rested since his arm was draped over her side. "Is it morning already?" She asked groggily.

"Yeah. I'd say we got about twenty or so minutes before everyone else wakes up." He answered and before she asked how he could possibly know that he added, "I peeked outside earlier. You slept through the noise." To give them a little of what light the early morning sun could provide, Daryl raised the back door of the truck up a couple of inches. Now that they could see each other he laid back down on his back, tucked one arm behind his head and held the other out to her. So she scooted over, resting her head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around her. Both of them got lost in thought as they watched the light in the truck grow brighter.

They were pulled from their thoughts by the sound of someone knocking on the side of the truck. With a grunt Daryl rolled onto his stomach and pushed the back up just enough to reveal Dale. "Time to get goin'."

"Alright." Cassie grunted as she pushed herself up and started gathering their things. Daryl stood to finish raising the back of the truck, "Hold up."

He stopped and hummed, wondering why she stopped him. To answer his silent question she closed the space between them, placed her hands on his chest and looked up at him through her lashes. He smirked as he grabbed her hips and caught her lips with his in a slow deep kiss.

Everyone was almost finished packing up to head to the Greene farm when Daryl met Cassie, who was sitting on the back of his bike. He was clearly hiding something behind his back. "Found ya somethin'." A smile appeared on her face as he pulled a guitar out from behind his back. "Do you know "Simple Man"?" He asked.

"Uh huh." She answered not surprised he was a Skynyrd fan.

"Let's have it." He told her with a come-at-me motion of his hand.

"Daryl I…" She sighed and shook her head, "I know I made you a promise, but I don't think now is the best time." She argued, doing her best to get out of it.

"Alright, later then." He told her with a nod then got on the bike as she threw the strap of the guitar over her putting it on her back.

TWDTWDTWD

As they rode to the farm Cassie prayed that Carl was okay, that Shane had come back in one piece. When they pulled up outside the house they were greeted with Lori, Rick, Shane and the people who lived on the farm. Daryl noticed a funny look on Cassie’s face as she got off the motorcycle. "What's wrong?"

"Otis, the guy who left with Dad to get supplies for Carl's surgery, isn't here and his people look down while ours look relieved." Cassie explained and Daryl did a onceover of their greeting crowd.

"How is he?" Dale asked them.

"He'll pull through." Lori answered with a relieved smile and a nod. "Thanks to Hershel and his people."

"And Shane." Rick added with a look over his shoulder at Lori. "We'd have lost Carl if not for him." Rick looked at Cassie who turned her eyes to her father who was wearing overalls that were several sizes too big and his hair had been buzzed off.

Everyone sighed in relief at hearing that Carl would be okay, but Cassie was now worried about Shane. Her concern for her father only grew when at the memorial for Otis, Shane made a speech that had her wondering how much of what he'd said about how Otis was lost was the truth.

TWDTWDTWD

Later, Cassie, Daryl, Shane, Andrea, Rick and Hershel stood around the hood of Carol's suv. "How long has this girl been lost?" Hershel asked.

"This will be day three." Rick answered.

Maggie walked over and rolled a map out on the hood of the suv. "County survey map. It shows terrain and elevations." They weighed the corners of the map down with rocks.

"This is perfect." Rick started as they all looked at the map. "We can finally get this thing organized. We'll grid the whole area, start searching in teams."

"Not you, not today." Hershel spoke up. "You gave three units of blood. You wouldn't be hiking five minutes without passing out." Herself then looked at Shane. "And your ankle, push it now you'll be laid up for a month. No use to anybody."

"Guess it's just me." Daryl spoke up. "I'm gonna head back to the creek, work my way back from there."

"I can still be useful." Shane spoke up. "I'll drive up to the interstate, just in case Sophia wandered back."

"Alright, tomorrow then, we'll start doing this right." Rick replied.

"That means we can't have our people out there with just knives." Shane spoke up. "We need that gun training we've been promising."

"I'd prefer you not carry guns on my property." Hershel spoke up. "We've managed so far without turning this into an armed camp."

Cassie cut her eyes over at Rick then looked at Hershel. "With all due respect, I would personally be more comfortable if at the very least Rick and Shane were allowed to carry, seeing as they're law enforcement."

Hershel looked at Rick with a squint. "Cassie, it's fine." Rick told her as he took his pistol off his hip. "This is his property and we will respect that." Following his lead everyone including Cassie and Daryl surrendered their guns.

"Look, I hate to be the one to ask, but what happens if we find her and she's bit?" Shane asked. "I think we should all be clear on how to handle that."

Rick's face fell. "We do what we have to."

"And her mother, what do you tell her?" Maggie asked, looking like she disagreed.

"The truth." Cassie and Andrea answered at the same time.

"I'll gather and secure all the weapons and make sure no one's carrying until we're at a practice range off site." Shane spoke up. "I do request one rifleman on lookout. Dale's got experience."

When Hershel didn't reply Rick turned toward him, "Our people would feel safer, less inclined to carry a gun." He reasoned with Hershel who finally gave them a nod. "Thank you."

"You comin'?" Daryl asked Cassie as he nudged her arm with his elbow.

"Yeah." She answered. "I'll catch up in a minute." Seeing that Shane was talking to Lori in front of where the RV had been parked Cassie waited by the car, overhearing that Glenn and Maggie would be doing a pharmacy run. When Shane and Lori were done talking she caught his attention. "You have a minute?"

"Yeah, what you got?" Shane answered, following her away from the group a bit.

"I uh…" she sighed, puffing out her cheeks before she let it go and ran her fingers through her loose waves. Shane squinted at her, a bit amused at her behavior. "This is awkward." Shane smirked and tilted his head. "I wanted to thank you for telling me all that stuff back at the church. All this time I've been holding a grudge against you for something that wasn't entirely your fault. The more I think about it the more I realize Mom really did keep you from me."

"I wasn't trying to turn your mom into the bad guy." Shane defended. "Or play the victim."

"No, I know." She replied. "But I realize now that I've been putting her on a pedestal and that's not fair of me." Shane made a face as if to say he agreed. "After you told me she wouldn't let you see me, it jogged my memory of some phone conversations I overheard. She told me she was arguing with her boss, but now I know that it was you on the other end of the phone." Shane frowned a little. "I just…" she shrugged, not knowing exactly how to say what she wanted to say. "You're the only parent I have left. So, maybe, I can learn how to not hate you."

Shane huffed out a breath with a smile. "I'd like that."

"I wanna start doing that by saying I am so, so, sorry for how I've treated you."

"Cassie, you don't have to apologize. Truth be told I've been taking my pent up aggravation at your mother out on you." Shane told her with a shake if his head.

"Yeah, well, truth be told I was such a brat I made it easy for you." She countered. "I never even thanked you for finding me that night at Shortie's party." Shane's face fell. "I always told myself you didn't care about me. But if you didn't care you would've let me lay there and die." Shane just pulled her into a hug. "I love you, dad."

"I love you too." He replied as she pulled back out of the hug.

"So, are you okay?" She asked.

"Yeah we're good." He answered thinking she was still talking about them.

"No, are you okay?" She asked with a glance up at his buzzed head and his face fell a little at her question. "You seem…off, for a lack of better word."

"I'm okay." He answered quietly.

She didn't believe him, but she let it go all the same. "If you say so."

She started to walk off but he stopped her, "You goin with Daryl?" He asked and she nodded. "Be careful, watch your back out there." He told her seriously.

She just gave him a two fingered salute and a nod before she turned and walked away.

Rick, in his and Lori's tent getting ready to head out, saw Cassie walk over to Glenn as Maggie left to go get their horses.

"Hey, you're going on a pharmacy run with Maggie, right?" She asked Glenn.

"Yeah, why?" He asked, squinting at her in the hot sun.

"There's something I need you to get for me while you're there." She explained.

"If you need feminine stuff Maggie would probably be the one to ask." He replied with a point over his shoulder.

"No it's not that." She told him with a shake of her head. "I need…" she looked around, seeing that T was a little too close to earshot for comfort, then stood on her tip toes and whispered in his ear.

"Oh." Glen said flatly before his brain caught up to her request and his eyebrows shot up, "Oh…You-."

"Can you keep this on the D.L.? If Shane or Rick catch wind of this my life will be ten times harder than it already is."

"Yeah, yeah, of course. Your secret's safe with me." He told her with an awkward nod.

"Thanks Glenn." She told him with an awkward nod of thanks then headed off to find Daryl.

Before he could leave the camp sight Rick ducked out of his tent. "Glenn."

"Yeah." Glenn said turning from where he'd been watching Maggie head over to them, two saddled horses at her sides.

"You're goin' in a run, right?" Rick asked and Glenn hummed. "You got a list?"

"Not yet, I think Lori's making one." Glenn answered.

"So Cassie didn't just give you one?" Rick asked.

"No, she just asked me to look for something." Glenn answered, accidentally saying too much.

"Which was?" Rick asked.

"Private." Glenn answered with an awkward upward inflection that made it sound more like a question. Rick deadpanned. "Look, I really don't want to break her trust."

Rick sighed and placed his hands on his hips. "Was it something that could get her hurt?"

"No. If anything it'll protect her." Glenn answered feeling as if he were digging himself I to a hole.

"I don't know what that means." Rick said with a squint at Glenn in the sun.

"It was condoms, okay?" Glenn finally answered just wanting the conversation to be over. Rick sighed and looked off into the distance. "And I'm going to get them for her no matter what you or Shane have to say about it."

Rick's eyes snapped back to Glenn. "Shane knows?"

"No, but she seemed freaked at the idea of either of you finding out she wanted them." Glenn answered. "She's a grown woman and smart and I'd hate to see her get knocked up or an std just because you and Shane are too protective."

"You think I'm too protective of her?" Rick asked with an amused smirk at how Glenn was defending Cassie.

"If you try to stop me, yeah." Glenn answered.

"I'm not gonna try to stop you." Rick told him. "Get her what she asked for." He clapped his hand down on Glenn's shoulder as he walked past him.

TWDTWDTWD

Cassie and Daryl gathered their gear and were walking past the front porch of the farm house, headed out to look for Sophia when Rick’s voice pulled them to a stop. “Cassie!” she stopped and turned back to see him walking over.

“What’s up?” she asked as she and Daryl met him halfway.

Rick just looked at Daryl. “Can I have a minute with her?” he asked. Daryl rolled his eyes with a scoff, but walked off.

“Is Carl okay?” Cassie asked with a squint in the bright sun.

“Yeah, he’s fine.” Rick answered. “It’s you I’m worried about.” Cassie gave him a confused shake of her head. “I know you want to help find Sophia, but I’m not sure you and Daryl goin’ out there, just the two of you, is a good idea.”

“Really?” Cassie asked with an agitated tilt of her head. “How many times do I have to prove that I can handle myself out there?”

“I know you can.” Rick pointed out. “Going hunting in the mountains and shooting a few walkers in a convenience store is one thing. Searching in the same woods that Sophia was lost in, woods that a herd of walkers recently passed, is another.”

“I’m not a twelve year old. I’ll be fine.” She assured him with raised brows.

“We’ve got a base. We can get this search properly organized now.” Rick argued.

“Right, and until then Daryl and I are going to spend what time we can doing what we can to find her.” Cassie argued. “You, of all people, know time is of the essence.” she told him with a stern face. “We’re goin’.” she turned and took a few steps before he grabbed her hand softly and she turned to look back at him, not taking her hand from his.

“Just…make sure looking for Sophia is all you two do out there. I'm not judging you or him.” he told her a bit stiffly. "I was young once, I remember how easy it is to get caught up in a moment."

All agitation melted away when she looked into his eyes and hhe had to bite her lips closed at his comment. Oddly enough, she appreciated his concern and when she let her lips slip from between her teeth, a quiet laugh left them. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course." He answered.

Knowing he’d seen Bambi and that he’d get the reference she simply replied, “Then believe me when I say I'm not going to lose my head just because I’m twitterpated.”

“Funny.” he replied flatly, not amused.

“I thought so." She said with a smirk and a tilt of her he'd then grabbed his face in her hands and looked him in the eyes seriously. "Stop worrying about me. I’ll be fine." She stood on her toes and pecked him on the nose then turned and started walking toward Daryl who was waiting for her off in the distance.

“What was that about?” Daryl asked as they fell into stride beside one another.

“Just Rick being Rick.” she answered dismissively.

“You mean he was being over protective.” Daryl corrected.

“I didn’t say that.” she countered. “Rick is just lookin’ out for me. He always has. I’m sure after doing it for so long it’s a hard habit to break.”

From then on Cassie and Daryl searched the woods in comfortable silence other than calling out for Sophia every once in a while. Eventually they came upon an abandoned house and after searching inside to no avail Daryl spotted some wild flowers. "What are they?" Cassie asked Daryl where he kneeled down looking at the white flowers.

"They're Cherokee roses." He answered then proceeded to tell her the story behind them and how they now represent the tears of a grieving mother. "Would it offend you if I brought one to Carol?"

"No. Of course not." Cassie answered. "I think it might just be what she needs to lift her spirits a bit." With that being said Daryl picked one.

TWDTWDTWD

When they got back to the farm Daryl went to give Carol the rose and Cassie went to find Glenn. "Hey, how'd the pharmacy run go?" She asked as she walked over to him.

"Good, we cleared it of the last of the antibiotics." He answered then pulled a white paper bag out of his back pocket. "And I got what you asked for."

"Awesome." Cassie said as she took it from him and tucked it into her back pocket, pulling her shirt tail over it. "Thanks again."

After tucking the pharmacy sack away in her bag she headed into the house to pop in on Carl. Rick was in the room with him, sitting in a chair beside the bed, staring off into space with a tired look on his face. She knocked softly on the doorframe to get his attention. "Hey." He greeted her sleepily. "Any luck?"

"We found an abandoned house and it looked like someone had been there recently, but there's really no way to know if it was her or not." Cassie answered quietly as she walked into the room. "How is he?" She asked with a look down at Carl where he laid asleep in the bed.

"He's in and out." Rick answered and things fell quiet for a few moments as Cassie carefully sat down on the foot of the bed.

"Cassie?" Carl's groggy voice asked.

"Hey, Buddy." She said with a smile as she walked in and gently sat down on the bed beside him. "How you feelin'?"

"I'll be okay." He answered, playing the part of a strong man. She just smiled and brushed his sweaty hair out of his face. "Did you find Sophia?" He asked. "Dad said you went looking for her."

"No…" she answered quietly. "But we're not gonna stop until we find her okay? You just get some rest."

"Kay." Carl answered with a nod then closed his eyes.

Cassie smiled to herself, relieved to see that he was getting better.

TWDTWDTWD

Both freshly showered, Cassie sat on her side of the pallet Daryl had made in the middle of their tent. The guitar he'd found sat in her lap while Daryl laid beside her watching her tune it. When it was tuned she started playing "simple man" but when Daryl realized she had played the same part several times without singing he touched her knee, stopping her. She kept her eyes on the blanket she sat on. "Hey," his soft tone made her look at him, "I ain't gonna die, just 'cause you sing for me."

"Okay." She closed her eyes, took in a deep breath, blew it out through pursed lips then opened her eyes and looked at the guitar in her lap. This time after strumming the first few notes she started singing. Daryl sat quietly, listening to her sweet, but powerful voice intently. After a minute she stopped, "I'm sorry, that's all I can remember right now."

Speechless, Daryl sat up and hooked his hand around the back of her neck, pulling her down for a kiss. As the kiss deepened Cassie blindly set the guitar aside and moved to straddle him. His hand stayed on her neck as he laid back and used his other hand to hold her waist.

She placed one hand on the pallet to brace herself as the other traveled the contours of his chest and stomach. Eventually she grabbed his chin and turned his head to the side, allowing her to trail kisses across his cheek, down his neck to a spot just above his collarbone where she swirled her tongue then grazed her teeth over the sensitive skin earning a pleasured hum from him. She moved back to his lips before she sat up and looked down at him with a lust that was mirrored back in his as she pulled her shirt over her head.

His hands went to her sides, expecting her to lean back down. Instead he watched her bite her bottom lip as she reached back with both hands and unhooked the clasps of her bra. The straps fell off her shoulders before she finished taking it off and dropped it to the side. With a heart that was beating a mile a minute she grabbed his right wrist and slid it up, silently telling him she wanted him to touch her.

A gasp left her lips as he sat up, wrapping one arm around her waist while the other hand cupped her breast before his lips caught hers in a needy kiss. The moan that his touch pulled from her lips was thankfully muffled by him. When he kissed his way to her chest and swirled his tongue around the peak of her breast her head fell back as a sigh escaped her lips. His actions sent a shockwave straight to her core. Her hands held the back of his head, her fingers embedded in his soft clean hair.

Meanwhile, in the house upstairs, Rick stood at the window of Carl's room, staring out into the night in contemplation. After watching Lori disappear into their tent his eyes wandered their camp, a movement caught his eye. As he looked closer he could easily make out Cassie's silhouette in her tent. But as the silhouette moved he realized it wasn't just Cassie, but Cassie and Daryl. Her head was leaned back while Daryl's head moved at her chest. As he watched a pit of anger grew inside him and his eyes turned glaring.

Back in their tent Cassie picked her head up and Daryl caught her lips with his as he laid back on the pallet, taking her down with him. As they made out, his hands fondled her chest, pulling sighs from her lips. "God, Daryl." She whispered, breaking their kiss before she started peppering kisses over his neck to the sweet spot just above his left collarbone. She sucked there lightly, pulling a groan from him before she kissed down his chest, repositioning herself to sit on her knees between his legs. He just watched as she kissed down his stomach then sat up and grabbed the button of his jeans but didn't undo it. "Is it okay if I…?" He gave her a nod before she finished the question.

So she unbuttoned his jeans, carefully pulled the zipper down then hooked her fingertips under the band of his boxers and pulled them down until he finally sprang free from the confinement of his jeans. He smirked, ever so slightly, when her eyes grew wide at the sight of him. Nervous but aching to please him she reached out and gently picked it up from where it rested on his lower stomach. Just that action alone pulled a shaky breath from him.

She'd thought about simply giving him a handjob, but now that she'd seen him her mouth was watering. So, desperate to taste him, she leaned down and licked him from base to tip. The action pulled a deep grunt from him that only fueled her fire and gave her the confidence she needed to continue. "Fuck, Cassie." He gasped after she sucked him into her mouth, using her tongue to flick along the underside as she bobbed her head. After a few minutes he managed to say, "I'm close."

She stopped long enough to give him a challenging smirk then swirled her tongue around the tip before sucking him back into her mouth. A few bobs of her head later a strained groan bubbled up from deep in his throat as he exploded in her mouth gagging her when it hit the back of her throat. She quickly recovered and waited until she was sure he was done then pulled back, swallowed and laid down beside him. He zipped and buttoned his pants back then looked across his shoulder at her.

The slightly reddened tint of her lips made him turn onto his side and cup her cheek in his hand, running his thumb over her bottom lip. She gave him a soft smile before he caught her bottom lip between his and grabbed her side, pulling her closer. After a minute of making out he gave her hip a soft push, putting just enough space between them for his hand to slip over the slick material of her athletic shorts. The feel of his hand where no one had ever touched her before pulled a hum from her lips. Daryl pulled back, silently asking if he'd gone too far.

"Keep going." She whispered.

He brought his hand back up to cup her cheek. "Tell me to stop and I'll stop."

"Okay." She nodded before he captured her lips between his. As they kissed her hand held the back of his neck and his slid from her face to her chest, paying each breast a bit of attention before moving further down into her shorts. Her breath hitched as his middle finger slipped between her slick folds. When he started slowly circling his finger around she broke the kiss and rested her forehead on his. After a few minutes he stopped, earning a sound of disappointment from her.

He just smirked down at her as he stood on his knees, removed her shorts and boyshorts panties, then moved between her legs, hovered over her and pecked her lips before moving to her neck. Kisses were slowly trailed down her body, sending tingles through her until he got to her core. The feel of his warm wet tongue caused a sharp gasp from her to fill their tent as her hands fisted the blankets at her sides.

When she'd grown used to that new sensation and little sighs and quiet moans came from her he stopped, making her look down at him as slipped a finger inside her, up to his first knuckle before he stopped, silently asking for permission. As soon as she gave him a nod he went back to pleasuring her. With just a few curls of the digit, buried deep inside her and flicks of his tongue she slapped a hand over her mouth in an attempt at keeping her orgasm from being heard by the entire camp. He sat up and watched her come down off her high, loving the sight of it, then moved to his bag, grabbed a clean red rag, wet it and wiped his mouth then handed it to her.

She took it, cleaned up, put her panties and shorts back on then laid down beside him where he laid with his hands tucked behind his head. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders as she rested her hand on his chest. "What happened to taking it slow?"

"You complainin'?" She asked with a smirk and a look up at him.

"Hell no." He answered with a shake of his head, his voice a little gravely. "Are you?"

Cassie gave him a closed lipped smile as she sat up and straddled him. His eyes slipped down to her naked torso for a few seconds as his hands found her sides. "Im'ma steal your words and say hell no." She answered as her hands roamed his bare chest. "To answer your first question, I still wanna take it slow, but," she fell forward and kissed the demon tattoo on the inner bicep of his right arm, "I don't think you know what looking at your arms all day does to me." then up over his shoulder. "Its torture."

Daryl rolled them over so he was on top. "You wanna talk about torture?" He asked and her eyes darkened as she smiled and bit her bottom lip. "Torture is every time you look at me with those sexy little angel eyes." He moved around so that his forearm was resting next to her head, his fingers slipping through her hair. She wrinkled her nose when he kissed it then hummed when he grabbed her thigh and pulled her leg up close to his hip. Her hands slipped around to press into his back as he ground his hips into her. The feel of him against her core combined with his lips on her neck pulled a quiet moan from her. "Don't take this as me pushin' you, but are you takin' birth control or anything?"

"No, I can't take birth control. So," she answered as she reached over into her bag nearby and fished around until she found the white paper bag covered box, "don't take this as me saying I'm ready, but I asked Glenn to grab these today." She pulled the blue and purple Durex box out of the bag, showing it to him. Daryl quietly laughed and shook his head. "What?"

"I made a request too." He sat up on his knees, reached into his back pocket and pulled out a condom. "I thought it was weird he only gave me one." He tossed the foil packet to the side. "Now I know it was because you were one step ahead of me. Should've known you know how to take care of yourself."

Cassie smiled as he fell down, catching himself on his hands beside her shoulders. "And I should have known you're not one of those idiots that rely on the pull out method."

"Na, I want us to have fun, not ruin your life." Getting tired, and seeing sleep in her eyes he moved to lay on his back, holding his arm out for Cassie. She smiled at how clingy he was at night and tucked herself into his side, draping her leg over his as he wrapped his arm around her.

TWDTWDTWD

“Alright.” Rick started as the map was rolled out on the hood of Carol’s suv. “Everyone’s getting new search grids today. If she made it as far as the farmhouse Daryl and Cassie found she might have gone further east than we’ve been so far.”

“I’d like to help.” Jimmy, one of Hershel’s group, said as he joined them. “I know the area pretty well and stuff.”

“Hershel’s okay with this?” Rick asked.

“Yeah, yeah. He said I should ask you.” Jimmy answered.

“Alright then. Thanks.” Rick said then turned back to the map.

“Nothing about what Daryl and Cassie found screams Sophia to me.” Shane spoke up. “Anyone could have been hold up in that farmhouse.”

“Anybody includes her, right?” Andrea asked.

“Whoever slept in that cupboard was no bigger than yay-high.” Daryl added.

“It’s a good lead.” Andrea told Daryl and Cassie.

“Maybe we'll pick up her trail again.” Rick told them with a reassuring nod.

“No maybe about it.” Daryl said as he leaned over to look at the map. “I’m gonna borrow a horse, head up to this ridge right here, take a bird’s eye view of the whole grid. If she’s up there we’ll spot her.”

“Good idea.” T-Dog said. “Maybe you’ll see your chupacabra up there too.”

“Chupacabra?” Rick asked with an amused raise of his brows and Cassie smirked.

“You never heard this?” Dale asked and Rick shook his head no. “Our first night at camp, Daryl tells us that the whole thing reminds him of the time he went squirrel hunting and he saw a chupacabra.”

Jimmy laughed.

“What are you braying at, Jackass?” Daryl asked him.

“So you believe in a blood sucking dog?” Rick asked.

“You believe in dead people walking around?” Daryl countered.

Jimmy reached for the rifle sitting on the hood of the suv. “Hey, hey. You ever fire one before?” RIck asked as he took it out of his hand.

“Well, if I'm going out I want one.” Jimmy answered.

“Yeah, and people in hell want slurpees.” Daryl said as he tossed his crossbow over his back. He looked at Cassie. “You comin’?”

“You said you were taking a horse?” she asked and he nodded. “I think I’ll hang out here today. Lori slept in, the laundry’s stacking up, and Carol wants to cook dinner for Hershel’s family.”

“She’s scared of horses.” Rick said with a look at Daryl over his shoulder.

“I’m not scared of them. I just don’t particularly like them.” she defended as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Because you’re scared of them.” Shane argued from where he still sat sideways in the passenger seat of the suv with the door open.

“Okay fine, I’m scared of them, but only because they’re big and dirty and they have a tendency to bite and kick.” she admitted making them all smirk at how ridiculous she was being.

“How’s that any different than him?” T-Dog asked with a point to Daryl.

Cassie just deadpanned at him while Shane and Rick chuckled. Daryl walked over and took her hand pulling her a little ways away from the group. “Horses ain’t nothin’ to be scared of.” he reasoned. "Besides you rode one the other day with Maggie."

“I got kicked by one when I was a kid. I don’t mess with horses.” she told him sternly with a shake of her head. "And that was an emergency situation."

“Okay.” he told her with a nod not wanting to pressure her. “See you when I get back.” he placed his hand, that wasn’t holding the strap of his bow, on her waist then bent down and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Be safe out there.” she told him with a look up at him.

“Promise.” he told her before he headed to the stables and she headed to join the other women in hanging up the laundry.

TWDTWDTWD

Worry started to build in the pit of Cassie's stomach when lunch time came and went and Daryl still hadn't returned. Rick found her taking her and Daryl's clothes off the line. "Can I talk to you for a minute?" He asked.

Cassie noticed the deep crease in his brow. "Of course." She answered as she finished folding her shirt then tossed it into a basket. Rick grabbed her hand and led her over to the nearby picnic table. "What's wrong?" She asked as they sat down on the bench facing one another.

"Do you think Sophia's a cat in a tree?" He asked.

Cassie frowned and shook her head. "I don't understand what you're asking."

"Are we wasting time and resources…putting our people in danger for a lost cause?" He asked.

Cassie tilted her head at him and bit her lips closed in thought. "Is that what you think?"

"No…" he sighed and rubbed at his temples. "It's what Shane thinks. He said I need to start making the hard decisions, thinkin' about the math. Alive or dead, Sophia only matters to the degree in which she doesn't drag the rest of us down."

"Yeah…that sounds like him." She sighed as she ran her hand through her hair pushing her loose waves out of her face.

"I just…I can't abandon her." Rick told her quietly. "If it was Carl out there…I'd need to find him…I'd need to know if he was alive or not."

Cassie put her elbow on the table and made a fist, pressing her lips to the back of her fingers in thought. After a minute she dropped her hand and looked at him. "I know Shane's a dick-"

"Don't tell me you agree with him." Rick interrupted her.

"I don't." She told him with a pointed look. "I understand why we're fighting so hard to find her. A parent should have closure in situations like this, but sometimes it just doesn't happen and there's nothing anyone can do about it." She pointed out.

He sighed and put his elbow on the picnic table, covering his eyes with his hand. She knew it wasn't what he wanted to hear, he was being Rick, fighting to keep hope alive. "I'm not saying we stop looking for her today or tomorrow or even the day after that." She gently took his hand from his face and held it in hers as she looked him in the eyes. "I'm just saying that nothing is ever completely black or completely white. Shane's not entirely right and you're not entirely wrong." Rick gave her hand a squeeze as he looked her in the eyes. "Sometimes the gray area is the right place to be."

"Yeah…maybe." He sighed as he dropped his eyes from hers to look down at their hands. Her eyes looked at them too and as his thumb caressed the back of her hand, making her heart skip a beat and her stomach flutter.

"Walker!" Andrea yelled from where she sat on top of the rv on watch, pulling them out of the moment.

They both ran toward the RV. "Is it just the one?" Rick asked.

Andrea grabbed the binoculars and looked then dropped them and grabbed a shot gut. "I bet I can nail it from here."

"No. Andrea put the gun down." Rick told her as Glenn, Shane and T-Dog came over.

"You best let us handle this." Shane told her walking over with a pickaxe in his hand.

"Shane, hold up." Rick told him. "Hershel wants to deal with walkers."

"What for, man? We got it covered." Shane replied, still heading toward the pasture.

"Damn it." Rick scoffed and grabbed his gun out of the camper then followed Shane, Glenn, Cassie and T-Dog, as they all started running out to the field.

When they got close they realized it was Daryl. He looked like he had been through hell. They all stopped, Rick with his gun still raised. "That's the third time you've pointed that thing at my head. You gonna pull the trigger or what?" Daryl asked, out of breath and pissed. Rick dropped his gun, realizing Daryl wasn't a walker. But a shot was fired, knocking Daryl backwards.

“No!” Cassie cried, frozen in shock for a few seconds while Shane and Rick jumped into action.

They both took an arm picking him up. "I was kidding." Daryl grumbled before he passed out.

Dale and Andrea met up with them as Shane and Rick dragged Daryl who'd passed out. “Oh my god. Is he dead?” Andrea asked.

“Unconscious.” Rick answered. “You just grazed him.”

“But look at him. What the hell happened?” Glenn asked. “He’s wearing ears.”

Rick looked at the shoe string of ears and pulled them off of Daryl’s neck, tucking them into his shirt pocket. “Let’s keep that to ourselves.”

Cassie just walked along with them, too shocked to speak. “Guys.” T-Dog said, making them stop to look at him to see him holding up a doll. “Isn’t this Sophia’s?”

“Dad.” Cassie said, getting Shane’s attention, her eyes trained on the makeshift bandage wrapped around his waist. The material at his side was soaked through with fresh blood. “His side…”

“Let’s get him to Hershel.” Shane said as he and Rick resumed carrying Daryl to the farmhouse. Once they got close Hershel ushered Rick and Shane into a bedroom, shutting the door before she could go in.

“They’ll take care of him.” Lori told her from behind her and she turned to see that Andrea and Glenn were in the hallways as well.

“Who the fuck gave your dumb ass a gun?” Cassie snapped at Andrea.

“Don’t be like that.” Lori told her. “She didn't mean to shoot him.”

“And that is precisely why she shouldn’t have a gun.” Cassie told Lori with a point at Andrea. “She doesn’t know how to handle it.”

“I can shoot just fine.” Andrea defended herself. “The sun was in my eyes.”

“I said nothing about your ability to shoot. Although that’s questionable too, thank God.” Cassie argued loudly. “I said you couldn't handle it, as in the responsibility. There is more to using a gun than aiming and pulling the trigger. You have to know exactly what you’re aiming at and be damn sure that pulling that trigger is the right choice.”

“Cassie, you need to stop.” Lori tried to calm her down.

“No.” Cassie told Lori then looked back at Andrea. “You need to understand that using a gun isn’t about feeling empowered or being a badass or trying to prove to everyone that you can handle yourself.” Cassie said as she took a step closer to Andrea who took a step back. “It’s about protection…survival. Killing animals or walkers.” The shot ringing out, Daryl falling, replayed in her head, sparking a burning fury inside her. “Not only was Daryl not a walker but he was surrounded by people who were without a doubt living humans, your group members! The sun was in your fucking eyes you could have killed one of them!”

“Cass.” Shane’s voice behind her made her turn to see him standing in the open door of the room. He jerked his head for her to join them. She walked into the room to see Daryl shirtless, the makeshift bandage gone.

He was still out, laying on his side while Hershel stiched up a hole in his back. “No major organs or arteries were punctured. He’s going to be fine.” Hershel told her and she heaved out a sigh of relief. “And I’d appreciate it if you’d watch your mouth while under my roof.”

“Sorry, Mr. Greene.” She apologized, looking up at Shane and they shared a smirk, both of them knowing where she got the foul language from.

Needing to be close to him Cassie moved to sit at Daryls head on the side he was facing. Rick left and came back with a map eager to find out what information Daryl had about Sophia.

"I didn't want you in here, but since you are here." Hershel handed her a folded pad of white linen. "Hold this on his head to slow the bleeding." She took it and gently moved Daryl's head to rest on the side of her knee as she pressed the pad over the mark Andrea's bullet made.

He came too with a jerk and a wild look in his eye.

"Hey, you're okay. I'm right here." She instinctively soothed him and when he realized he was safe he let his head fall back down on her knee. She gently brushed his hair back off his forehead and away from the sore before she put the pad back on it.

"Who the hell shot me?" Daryl asked with a glare off into the distance then flinched and glared down at Hershel who continued stitching him up.

"Andrea." Shane answered.

"I suggest we steer clear of that subject for now." Rick said as he walked into the room and rolled the map out on the bed. Daryl picked his head up and propped it up with his hand and elbow. "How bout you tell us about this?" He tossed the doll onto the bed.

“I found that doll washed up on the creek bed right there.” Daryl told Rick with a point at the map. "She must have dropped it crossing there somewhere.” Hershel continued stitching up the other hole on Daryl’s side.

“That cuts the grid almost in half.” Rick said with a look over his shoulder at Shane who sat behind him in a chair against the wall.

“Yeah, you’re welcome.” Daryl said with a look up at Cassie before he turned to look at his side.

“How’s he lookin’?” Rick asked with a look at Hershel.

“I had no idea we’d be going through the antibiotics so quickly.” Hershel answered as he cut the string, finishing with Daryl’s stitches before moving to the wash basin to wash his hands. “Any idea what happened to my horse?”

“You mean the one that tried to kill me?” Daryl asked. “If it’s smart it left the country.”

Cassie couldn’t help but smirk as she watched Rick start rolling up the map. “We call that one Nelly.” Hershel told him as Daryl closed his eyes and laid his head back down on Cassie’s lap. “As in Nervous Nelly. I could have told you she’d throw you if you’d bothered to ask. It’s a wonder you people have survived this long.”

Rick and Shane left while Hershel stayed and finished bandaging Daryl’s stitches and head. “Don’t get those wet.” Hershel told him.

Daryl just hummed and laid back down, putting his hand back in Cassie’s lap as Hershel left. Content to just let him rest Cassie started playing with his hair soothingly. Daryl sighed at the relaxing sensation and she smiled to herself. After a few minutes his breathing changed and not long after his quiet snores filled the room. So she slipped from the bed, laying his head on a pillow. She brushed his hair off of his forehead before placing a soft kiss to the dirty skin and going back down stairs.

TWDTWDTWD

Aside from the scraping of forks on plates, the dining room was dead silent. People just looked around awkwardly or stared off in thought. “Uh, Cassie,” Glenn said, getting her attention and she looked up from where she was eating on the floor next to the kiddy table where he, Maggie, Jimmy and Beth sat. “was that you I heard playing the guitar and singin’ the other night?”

“Yeah, why?” she asked around a bite of ham.

“It just…really quiet.” he replied. “Thought some music might help.”

“I’ll play, if people want, but I’m not singing.” she answered.

“I’ll sing.” Beth spoke up.

“That won’t be necessary.” Hershel spoke up, shutting the whole thing down.

“Heavy awkward silence it is then.” Glenn sighed as he turned back to his plate.

“You tried.” Cassie told him with a half smile and a shrug.

As soon as she was done eating Cassie brought her plate and fork to the kitchen. Carol came in after her and started fixing another plate with the extras that were in the kitchen. “Do you care if I bring Daryl up some dinner?” Carol asked meekly.

Cassie gave her a confused look. “Why are you asking me?”

“I know you two have a…thing, goin’ on.” Carol told her. “I just don’t want to step on your toes or anything.”

Cassie laughed. “You’re not stepping on my toes.”

“Alright, just didn’t know after the way you reacted earlier…yelling at Andrea and all that.” Carol told her as she put a glass of juice on a tray.

“I’m protective, not possessive.” Cassie told her with a smirk. “You’re a grown woman, he's a grown man. You don’t need my permission to talk to him.” she said with a wave toward the stairs.

"Ok." Carol told her then picked up the tray and walked away.

Cassie chuckled quietly to herself with a shake of her head as she grabbed Carol's dishes and started washing them. She was almost done when Rick came in with his and Lori's and started washing them. "I can get that." She told him as she reached for the dishes.

"The cook shouldn't clean." He argued as he pulled them back.

"Fine, I'll rinse." She sighed and he shook his head.

"So, you sang the other night?" Rick asked and she just hummed a positive answer. "What happened to the whole 'my voice is a curse' line you fed me?" He asked.

"I still believe it." She replied, taking a dish he handed her.

"But you'll sing for Daryl?" He asked.

"He asked me to and I told him the same thing I told you, but he kept insisting. So, I told him if he found me a guitar I'd sing." She explained.

"And he found a guitar." He guessed.

"And I don't break my promises." She finished.

"If I find you a pick for that guitar, will you sing for me?" He asked.

"Nope." She answered, popping the p at the end of the word.

"Aw come on, why not?" He asked, his voice jumping it pitch the way it always did when he picked with her, making her smile.

"Because, I know you keep a pick, autographed by Hank Williams jr, in your wallet for luck. And Lori kept your wallet." She answered as she rinsed the dish and set it in the drainer. "I'm flattered though."

Carol and a few other ladies came into the kitchen making it a little crowded. So Rick left and the women started cleaning up. When they were done Cassie headed up to check on Daryl. She found him lying on his good side, his back to the door that she closed behind her. He looked over his shoulder at the sound. "You haven't touched your dinner."

"I ain't hungry." He answered then looked back at the wall across the room.

"You gonna make me play nurse?" She asked as she sat down on the bed behind him. When he didn't say anything she worried she'd done something wrong, but he'd been through hell so she didn't press the matter. "Okay, I'll let you get some rest then."

When he felt the bed shift he turned to see her headed for the door. "Why you leavin'?"

She stopped and turned back to him. She hummed an I don't know. "Got the feelin' you wanted space."

"Come 'ere." He waved her over and patted the bed in front of him. So she walked around and laid down across from him. Daryl pulled her close. "I don't want space, not from you."

"Just everyone else?" She asked.

"I ain't used to people takin' care of me." He answered. "Under any other circumstances I'd still be out there, fightin' for my life on my own."

A few quiet moments passed. "You know why you're not on your own anymore, right?" She asked and he didn't answer. "Because you're worth caring for and people can see that now." Daryl's eyes softened. "So let them." He simply pulled her closer and nuzzled his face into her neck.

After a few minutes a knock came from the door before it opened and both of them looked toward it to see Beth, standing meekly in the doorway. "Cassie, my dad said you can't stay in here tonight."

"Why not?" Cassie asked with a frown.

"Unwed couples don't share rooms." She answered.

"Are you kidding me?" Cassie asked and Beth shook her head. "I swear…I'm living in Amish country." She complained as she rolled out of the bed onto her feet then stood. She was headed for the door when she heard Daryl grunt. "What are you doin'?" She asked when she saw him pushing himself up.

"Comin' with you." He grunted, as he swung his legs to hang over the side of the bed.

"No. You need to stay in bed and rest. Sleeping on the floor in a tent won't do your side any favors." She argued as she moved to kneel in front of him, resting her hand on his knees. Beth walked away, giving them some space. He glared at her, determination in his eyes. "Fine. Come on." She stood and hooked her arm around his back and he threw his arm over her shoulders.

She helped him to his tent where they bedded down and he fell asleep with her tucked into his chest.

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