#Daryl Dixon X Glenn Sister!Original Character
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A Plague of Sleet and Rot (ASoIaF x The Walking Dead fanfic)
BOOK 2 - A Road of Snow and Grime
CHAPTER 5: Confession
Masterlist
Relationships: Daryl Dixon x Carol, Rick Grimes x Lori Grimes, Carl Grimes & Sophia, and basically a friendship tag with Jon Snow & Everyone else [except Shane].
Summary: A month has passed since Jon Snow awakened on a highway outside of Atlanta and joined Rick Grimes and his fellow survivors. His memories of his death have returned and our alien world is beginning to make a bit of sense. Ever since the loss of the CDC, surviving in the apocalypse has been a daily struggle. The group is on thin ice. Supplies are dwindling. Hope is fading. The dead are walking. And their only chance for life may be a run-down farm, an old man and his daughters.
Chapter Summary: Jon is left to pick up the pieces after dealing with the barn walkers.
Time Frame: Farm Arc - TV Variant Adjacent
Featured Characters: Jon Snow, Ghost, Mormont's Raven, Rick Grimes, Carl Grimes, Lori Grimes, Daryl Dixon, Carol, Sophia, Dale, Glenn Rhee, Andrea, T-Dog, Edwin Jenner, Shane Walsh, Beth Greene, Maggie Greene, Hershel Greene, Randall Culver, Original members of the Culver Family
Warnings: gore, vivid descriptions of dead bodies, child mutilation, graphic violence, death, murder, active combat, descriptions of armed warfare
[Art above is a piece by Art.of.Azrael. You can support them here: https://linktr.ee/Art.of.Azrael ]
Any notes are appreciated!
Dusk settled over the farm, all pinks and reds. Sixteen graves lined the base of the barn’s hill, fourteen filled and marked, two open and empty. Fourteen crosses marked the filled graves, casting long shadows upon the hill. Fourteen long, reaching black fingers upon a field of pink and red grass. From afar, Jon watched Dale and T-Dog lower a corpse into the fifteenth grave. Careful, as if the corpse was pottery and glass rather than flesh and bones. Once, to hear Hershel tell it, the corpse had been Alex Culver, a friend of Beth’s, always smiling, always joking. Hershel’s voice travelled with the wind, drifting across the farm.
“May you forgive whatever sins he committed through human weakness and in your goodness, grant him eternal rest.” Hershel snapped shut a little book and bowed his head.
At the foot of the grave, Beth buried her face into Maggie’s chest. Her shoulder’s heaved and shook. A great tremble shot through her, buckling her knees. Maggie took hold of her, stopping her from falling. Tearless, she watched Dale and T-Dog fill the grave, silent and still. Hershel tucked his little book away into a pocket. Embracing his daughters from behind, he held them firm against his chest.
Jon watched the burial from across the fields, sat at the long plastic table, eating the last of the canned corn. Beside him, Glenn watched Maggie comfort her sister, bouncing his knee. Andrea sat across from them, focused on nothing but her bowl of corn. Beside her, Jenner occasionally gave Jon a sour look but otherwise focused on his corn too. In the seat beside the head of the table, Lori watched Rick with a frown. They’d planned on aiding the burial, but so had Hershel. Professions of apologies had earned Dale and T-Dog a role in the burials. Rick commanded that the rest gather around the plastic table but now, he stood out in the fields. Unaided, halfway between the graves and the camp, he watched the burials. But from afar all the same
“It’s time,” he’d whispered to Jon as they’d gathered.
Daryl, Carol and Shane were hidden away. Shane had vanished inside his tent come sunrise, to hear it told, and hadn’t been seen since. Daryl and Carol had remained inside the house to watch over Sophia, who had grown too weak to risk being left alone.
“Corn!” Bloodbeak strutted up to Jon and pecked his hand. “Corn! Corn!”
“Aye. Corn.” Jon pushed the bowl to the raven.
As Bloodbeak gobbled his precious corn, Jon turned on his stool to watch the woods. Hours ago, Ghost had left to hunt. Oddly, the direwolf’s absence reassured Jon. Ever since re-uniting among the quarry hoard, Ghost had nary left his side. Occasionally he left to hunt but far less frequent than normal. Direwolves aren’t lapdogs or even pets but free spirits. To see him so close, never far from Jon’s heel made the wolf seem as queer as the world they’d found themselves in.
Reassurances had escaped Jon of late. Last night, he’d lied. Unknowingly, but a lie all the same. Taking the farm by force was no longer a simple matter. Rick had made as much clear the moment he’d chastised Jon for putting down the walkers. A glare and a few harsh words complicated everything. Apart from Lori, those who sat around the table would take the farm if need be, undoubtedly. Shane too, but Dale, and now T-Dog, would aid the Greenes. Daryl and Carol were less certain but Jon suspected they would side with the Greenes. A forceful takeover put Sophia at risk. Just as it did Carl. No matter, they had the numbers yet, Jon was under no delusions of his place in the group. They respected him, yes, even trusted him. But at the end of the day, they’d granted Rick the mantle of leader. If Rick told them to leave the farm, they would, no matter what Jon had to say. The farm was life and safety and a chance to rebuild; worth fighting for; worth killing for. He had to make Rick see that. Their old world is dead. New rules reign; rules written in blood.
Once Dale and T-Dog finished refilling the fifteenth grave, Beth planted a wooden cross at its head. The name, Alex Culver, marked the cross. Fourteen other names marked the other crosses. They spoke of friends and family. In a neat row before the sixteenth grave, the corpses of five strangers lay rotting. Dale and T-Dog seized the corpses by shoulders and ankles and then dropped them into the twelve-foot-deep grave. Beth watched on, standing on her own, back straight and stiff. For all her madness and incessant weeping, Jon could not detest the girl the way Andrea could. It took a certain courage to watch so many of those once close to you buried, in succession no less. In time, the truth would make her strong, as it had him, and the others too. Hershel opened his little book again to read a prayer for the strangers. Maggie left her sister and father. She marched across the fields. The wind carried Hershel's words after her.
“God, we thank you for the life that you give us. It is full of work and of responsibility, of sorrow and joy. Today we thank you for these strangers whom we never had the pleasure of learning their names, for what he has given and received. Help us in our mourning and teach us to live for the living in the time that is still left to us. Thank you for eternal life that can give light and joy to our days and years already here on earth. God, we thank you for your Son, Jesus Christ. Help us to see that it is he who opens the gate to the life that shall never die.”
Maggie passed Rick and took a seat at the plastic table beside Glenn. Of all the Greenes, she saw the truth, Jon knew. A thought dawned on Jon. Will she help strangers take over her family’s farm? No, quite unlikely. And would her allegiance with her family be enough to sway Glenn? The man has fallen head over heels for her, like a boy with his first woman. Glenn has sense, but a man’s cock oft persuades him to senseless acts. More and more, a takeover of the farm appeared more and more difficult, even with Rick’s support.
Andrea and Maggie shared an uneasy gaze across the table. Scorn and mistrust soured Andrea’s eyes, and Maggie hardened her own gaze in response.
“You got something to say, Andrea?” Glenn asked, breaking the table’s silence.
His words drew the attention of Lori and Jenner. Even Bloodbeak lifted his good eye from the corn to stare.
“Say!” he quorked.
“I ain’t got nothin’ to say to our gracious host. For however long that lasts.” Andrea shoved a spoonful of corn into her mouth.
Maggie’s lips twisted into a tight, thin scowl. “I’m workin’ with my dad. He’ll come around. He just needs time.”
Andrea swallowed and then scoffed. “I don’t know how things work in fantasy land, but in the real world, the one where dead people walk, time is precious. If y’all are gonna kick us out, just get it over with. Sleep’s fucking impossible while, for all I know, tonight might be my last here.”
“Andrea, cut it out,” Glenn said.
Maggie spoke over him. “I’m sure that must be really hard for you.”
Andrea slammed her palm on the table. “You ain’t got a fucking clue, do you? Fucking du-”
“Enough!” Jon cut above Andrea’s shouts with a Commander’s voice.
All eyes went to him.
“What, you on their side now? You?” Andrea asked.
“This isn’t the time for this. Both of you.”
“Seems as good a time as any other, while we’re all here.”
Jenner spoke, hushed and gurgled. “He’s right.” His eyes found Glenn’s. “It’s time for a more pressing talk.”
Glenn’s eyes widened. “That’s what he wants us here for?”
“What else?”
“The hell are you two talking about?” Andrea asked.
“You’ll see,” Jon said. “Now be quiet, and wait for Rick.”
“You’re keepin’ secrets?” Lori asked.
“Not any longer,” Jon said.
“Fuck waiting, tell us now,” Andrea said.
“I agree.” Lori stiffened in her chair. A scornful gaze flashed Rick’s way.
Jon met Lori with a hard, stern gaze. “I keep secrets when it’s asked of me.”
Lori dodged his eyes and gummed her lips.
“Is this about the virus?” Maggie asked.
Jenner gawked at Maggie, his spoon hanging limp from his grasp. While he gawked, Jon glared at Glenn, who’d paled.
“You told her?”
“I-It just kinda slipped out.”
Andrea scoffed. “Yeah, I bet it did. Jon, just tell us already. You can speak as well as Rick, why’s he gotta tell us?”
“We agreed to tell all of you, at once. And that’s what we’ll do.”
“Well, it seems-”
“We did.” Rick stood at the head of the plastic table. The setting sun draped his face in long shadows and twinkled upon the sheriff’s star pinned to his chest. “The truth about the virus needs to be told to everyone at the same time.”
Andrea wrinkled her nose and scowled, but shut her mouth all the same. Lori grasped Rick’s hand and looked up at him.
“Should we be worried?”
Rick mulled over the question for a lingering moment before sighing. “Yes.”
“Yes!” Bloodbeak cackled, his beak clattering.
“Once they’re finished with the dead, I’ll tell you everything. I promise.”
“DEAD!” Bloodbeak shrieked. He erupted from the table, a fluttering mass of black feathers, shrieking his damnable head off. “DEAD! DEAD! DEAD!”
Rick’s eye twitched as Bloodbeak soared away towards the barn.
“Did you train him to do that?” Maggie asked.
“No.” Jon shovelled corn into his mouth.
Rick scanned the table and then frowned. “Where’s Daryl and Shane?”
“Shane’s in his tent,” Glenn said. “And Daryl’s with Sophia and Carol.”
“Go get Daryl, he needs to be here. I’ll get Shane.”
Glenn nodded and made to stand.
Jon swallowed his corn. “Daryl already knows.”
Glenn furrowed his brow. “You told him?” He glanced at Maggie.
“Aye.”
Andrea sighed and Jenner gave Jon an incredulous look.
“God…” Rick kneaded the bridge of his brow. He glanced at Maggie. “Is there anyone else who knows?”
“Only Carol,” Jon said, sharp and curt.
Rick’s face softened. “Oh… yeah, right.”
“Some fucking secret guys,” Andrea muttered, poking at her corn.
“You shouldn’t get Shane,” Jon said.
Rick wrinkled his nose. “Why? He know too?”
“No. Your face is the last he’ll want to see right now.”
“True… Fine. You get him then. Glenn, go with him.”
Glenn nodded. “Right.” He left the table.
Jon joined Glenn in making their way across the fields. Shane had set his tent up by the corner of the scrap-metal fence, nestled amongst the wheat. Its blue point poked above the golden stalks. Jon and Glenn waded through the wheat.
“Think he’ll listen?” Glenn asked.
“Not likely,” Jon said.
Glenn’s hand rested on his machete’s red handle. “So, we make him come?”
“Let’s see what kind of state he’s in first.”
“Yeah… Okay.” His hand moved away from his machete.
When they reached the tent, they found it zipped shut.
“Shane. Come out.” Jon spoke slow and clear.
No response.
“Come on, dude. It’s important,” Glenn said.
Again, no response.
Glenn whispered to Jon. “He is in there, right?”
“Shane, come out or we’ll come in.”
Jon waited for one heartbeat, and then another. When he received no response, he crouched and unzipped the tent. Inside, dusk’s pink light filtered through the tent’s blue plastic, casting all in burgundy; a bedroll, a cleaver and a bald man sat in the corner. Curled shavings littered the floor. Patchwork stubble and fresh, small cuts covered Shane’s head. His back to the light, cast in dusk’s shadow, Shane glared at Jon.
“Fuck off.”
Glenn poked his head in after Jon. “Jesus…”
“You need to come with us. Rick wants you at the table.”
Shane smirked. “Look at you two, doin’ glorious leader Rick’s biddin’ like a pair of dogs. He got a treat waitin’ for you when you get back?”
“It’s not a request,” Glenn said.
“Do I really gotta say it twice? Fuck. Off.”
“Glenn, wait outside.”
“What? Why?”
“Just do it.” Jon entered the tent and sat across from Shane. “Close the flap behind you.”
Glenn’s nose wrinkled. His eyes switched from Shane to Jon and then back to Shane before he clicked his tongue. “Fine.” He stepped back and zipped up the tent.
Jon slid Shane’s cleaver out of the man’s reach. “I’m going to talk and you’re going to listen.”
“Am I?”
“You are.”
“Or what?”
“I’ll drag you from your tent and you’ll listen to Rick say the same thing.”
Shane folded his arms. The burgundy light warmed his scabbed and stubbled head. “Whatever. Say your piece, kid.”
“Myself, Rick, Jenner and Glenn have kept a truth from you and the rest of the group.”
Shane arched an eyebrow.
Jon continued. “Jenner revealed to us how the virus actually turns people into walkers. It isn’t the bite. The bite only kills. It’s death itself that creates walkers. We’re all already infected.”
“Okay. That all?”
Jon studied Shane’s face. Stiff, stern features spoke of a lack of shock or concern. A facade, Jon assumed at once. But on closer inspection, his eyes matched the face. The eyes always revealed the truth of a man’s intent. Even so, Jon did not trust them. Perhaps he does not understand. Or perhaps his wits have left.
“You’ve understood what I’ve said?”
“We all become walkers in the end. Got it. Get the fuck out of my tent.”
Madness then. “Not yet. One more thing.”
“Jesus,” Shane chuckled. “What are you, kid? A fuckin’ telegram? Got a little speech from Rick?”
“Don’t overstep yourself. My promise still stands. Try to take control of the group, or revenge on Rick and I’ll kill you.”
Wrinkles furrowed Shane’s brow and shaved head. His jaw clenched. “Got it.”
“Good.” Jon slid Shane’s cleaver back to him and left the tent.
Glenn awaited him outside, hand resting at his machete. “Well? He coming or not?”
“I told him.” Jon headed off into the wheat.
Glenn trailed him. “Dude… seriously. And you gave me shit for telling Maggie. That’s two now, Daryl and Shane.”
“Aye, I know, I know. But it was either that or drag him from the tent.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Glenn clicked his tongue. “How’d he take it?”
“Well. To well. I fear he’s lost his wits.”
“Probably. You see his head? Did he do that with his fucking cleaver?”
“Aye, most likely.”
“We should tell Rick.”
“There we agree.”
Back at the table, Rick met Jon and Glenn’s return with a scowl.
“Where’s Shane?” Rick asked.
“We… ” Glenn glanced at Jon. “Uh…” He rubbed the back of his head.
Jon spoke. “He refused to cooperate. We were left with two options; drag him from the tent or tell him the truth there. I told him the truth.”
“Great,” Andrea grumbled. “One more fucking person who knows.”
Rick sighed. “Fair enough. Good call. Sit down, they’re about done.”
Jon and Glenn retook their seats. At the base of the hill, Dale and T-Dog shovelled the last of the dirt into the sixteenth grave. Hershel and Beth watched side by side, holding the other’s hand.
“How’d he take it?” Rick asked.
“Well enough. Too well. He’d acted like I’d told him something trivial. I fear he’s lost his wits.” Jon said.
Glenn made eye contact with Jon as he nodded confirmation.
“He ain’t crazy, just sulkin,” Rick said.
“No, man. He shaved off all his hair, with his fucking cleaver,” Glenn said.
Rick avoided their eyes. “We’ll keep an eye on him then…”
Lori shuffled on her stool.
“So, this secret is something we can take badly then?” Andrea asked.
“I’m sorry for the waitin’,” Rick said. “Just be patient a little while longer, that’s all I ask.”
“Yeah, whatever…”
In silence, they waited. Dale and T-Dog shovelled the last of the dirt and flattened the grave with their shovels. Beth planted a wooden cross, Hershel spoke some final words, and as one they crossed the fields. They joined the table, on the opposite side to Rick. All except Hershel sat, who stood at table head, scowling.
“What’s so urgent it couldn’t wait until mornin’?” He asked.
“You might want to take a seat,” Rick said.
“I’m fine where I am.”
“Alright.” Rick sighed. Head hung, he put his hands on his hips, staring at the table for a moment before addressing them all. “For the past few weeks, it’s been my decision to keep somethin’ from all of y’all. Somethin’ awful. It was my belief that it should be kept from y’all until he had a bit of stability. But now that we’ve got food, water, shelter and medicine, I believe the time has come. A few days after the CDC, Jenner told me how the virus actually turns the dead into walkers. It ain’t the bite. The bite only kills us. It’s death that turns us into walkers, bitten or not. We’re all infected. The whole world.”
Speechless, the group looked around the table at one another with wandering gazes. Hershel sat, took Beth’s hand into his and held his head with the other. Dale, sat up, head tall.
“And you know this for sure, Jenner?” he asked.
“Yes,” Jenner said
“How? What proof is there?”
Jenner wet his lips. “Washington’s CDC ran… experiments, that gave credibility to the theory. In Atlanta we… we were able to reproduce their results consistently.”
Dale’s face dropped. “Beyond a shadow of a doubt?”
“Beyond a shadow of a doubt.”
“No. No, you can’t know for sure that we’re all infected. You had, what? A week? Maybe two to run your tests? You could have been wrong. You could have missed-”
Andrea scoffed. “You’re a scientist now?”
“Dale’s got a point,” T-Dog said, fidgeting.
Andrea scowled at Dale. “I’m sorry, do you two not remember the first few days of all this? People dropping like flies all over the world at once? Where do you think all those dead ones came from?”
Dale scowled at Andrea. “That was then. You don’t see people just up and dropping dead anymore, do you?”
“The virus mutated in order to adapt to its environment,” Jenner said. “What you’re talking about was the first wave. It spread, symptomless in order to-”
Dale snapped. “I don’t need you to tell me about the start. I was out there, watching everyone I ever cared about die, while you were holed up. Safe and sound. With food and water and hot showers.”
Jenner slammed the table. “Safe and sound?”
“That’s right!”
“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about!”
“Stop!” Andrea shouted. She swept a glare over Jenner, Rick, Glenn and Jon. “Who gives a shit about the start? What the hell possessed you to keep this from us?”
Jon steadied his voice. “As Rick said, we believed we required stability before the truth could be revealed.”
“Only Jon and I,” Rick said. “Jenner and Glenn wanted to tell y’all earlier.”
Glenn wrung his hands. “Well, actually I changed my-”
“I don’t care,” Andrea snapped. “We should have been told, all of us, right away. I mean, shit. What would have happened if one us died out there? If one of us passed in our sleep? Got an infection, or sick or, or anything! You put us all in danger, dammit.”
“We were barely keeping it together as is,” Rick said. “To tell y’all the truth would be to take away hope.”
“No,” Lori said. “Andrea’s right, we should have been told. I mean, what is this? We’re keeping secrets now, in some secret council? This is meant to be a democracy. We make decisions as a group.”
Rick took Lori’s hands into his. “This is a democracy. Always will be.”
Lori snatched her hands back. “A democracy is by the people for the people. All the people, not just four.”
“Lori, I-”
Andrea made a sardonic chuckle. “Oh no, we’re a democracy all right. Fucking, shadow government and all.”
Jon began. “It was-”
“Don’t you dare say it was for our own good. I don’t treat you like a kid. Don’t think to treat me like one.”
“A mistake,” Jon finished.
Rick’s brow furrowed, Glenn gawked and Jenner raised an eyebrow.
Jon continued. “And we apologise. It was ill befitting of us to assume you could not handle the truth.”
For a moment, Andrea did naught but stare at him but then her scowl softened somewhat, and her head cocked. Jon concerned himself not with her reaction. Rather, he focused on Hershel, Beth, Dale and T-Dog. Beth glared at him openly across the table. Seething malice swirled dark storms in the blue pools of her eyes. Hershel gazed at nothing particular, hollowed-eyed, squeezing Beth’s hand. Denial and despair twisted and knitted Dale’s brow. T-Dog slumped in his chair, stooping his broad shoulders.
Maggie’s voice came as a surprise. “We’ll never be free of this. Will we?”
Glenn frowned and squeezed her hand. Jenner answered.
“No. Not for a while.”
“C-Couldn’t a cure be made?” Dale asked. “If you got the right equipment?”
“Yeah!” A thin, wavering grin pulled T-Dog’s lips taught. “Once we rebuild, a cure should be possible.”
“Possible. But not in our lifetime.”
“Come now.” Dale smiled. “Look around. This is the bedrock of our future. Civilisation will start a new right here.” Dale prodded the table. “Right here. We can harvest food from the fields, fortify the town, and build houses, and walls to keep out the dead. This could be a sanctuary for others, a place to kindle the embers of a new age. Who knows? Maybe in a few decades, we could have power, government, jobs and laws and, and normalcy. A cure in our lifetimes doesn’t sound too unrealistic.”
“Yeah…” A grin spread across Glenn’s face. “The town’ll have all the infrastructure we need right?”
“Yup,” T-Dog said. “And once we fortify it from the dead, we’ll be back on the path to a normal world.”
“And what happens when another group comes along and wants what we have?” Jon asked.
The smiles and grins vanished as quick as they’d come.
Dale laughed. “Why’d anyone want to do that, when they could have a place here and help rebuild the world?”
“Because in times like these, some people survive by taking what others have.”
Hershel stood. “People like you, you mean?”
“Dad!” Maggie shot to her feet.
Hershel curled his upper lip, snapped on his heels and marched off for the house.
“Don’t yell at him! Traitor!” Beth shouted. Tears welled. She scrubbed them away and took off after her father.
Maggie stormed after her but Glenn remained, shifting and fidgeting in his chair.
“What would we do if another group attacked?” He asked. “We haven’t got any defences. And even if we did, we haven’t got enough weapons to defend it.”
“We don’t fight,” Dale said. “If we offer an olive branch, any reasonable person would accept it.”
“No, they’d see it as a trick,” Jon said.
“But it isn’t.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“What then? Do we just attack anyone who comes across this place? We need people to rebuild, not more corpses.”
“Corpses is what we’ll be if we allow just anyone to join us.”
“Enough,” Rick calmly said. “Clearly, there’s a lot to unpack here. It’ll be night soon. Let’s pack in for the night and continue this in the mornin’.”
“That would be best,” Jon said.
Dale nodded. “Fine.”
T-Dog nodded too while Glenn stood, looking towards the house.
“Whatever,” Andrea muttered.
“Hold on,” Lori said.
Glenn froze. “What?”
Lori scowled at him, then Jon and Jenner, but none more so than Rick. “No more secrets. From now on, we share important information as soon as we find out about it.”
“No matter how awful it may be,” Andrea added.
“Sure,” Glenn said.
“Aye, deal,” Jon said.
“Of course,” Jenner said.
Lori arched an eyebrow at Rick.
Grunting, Rick went to one knee and squeezed Lori’s hands. “The truth, now and always.” Pain flashed across his face. His arms trembled.
Lori smiled and punched Rick’s shoulder. “Don’t do that. Get up, idiot, you ain’t recovered yet.”
***
The stench of piss and vomit burned the back of Jon’s throat. Sophia had been laid on her side. Dried vomit crusted the sheets below her mouth. A wet spot darkened the sheets beneath her groin. Her blankets lay heaped in the corner, stinking of all things vile. Her clothes topped the heap of blankets. Only her small clothes remained, darkened by grime. Flakes peeled off of dry, blotchy skin, pale like milk. Blood swelled her feet and ankles, puffing them pink and bulbous. Bald spots littered her head. Only hair thin like straw and brittle like twigs remained. Her chest puffed and fluttered as she wheezed. Empty, glazed eyes stared at the wall while she lay on her side in filth and decay.
“Fuckin’ old timer can’t let go of the past.” Sat on a stool, in the corner of Sophia’s room, Daryl whittled a stick to a point.
Hair once shiny with grease and dark with grime had been fluffed and lightened. A crude cut left tangled ropes that once hung past his ears, as a lopsided head of short, straight hair. Soap and water rid him of a perpetual stink. Instead, a sweet honey aroma fought a losing battle with the room’s stench. Even his skin looked clean. Yet, the wash did naught for the man’s sour scowl.
“Aye, seems so. T-Dog as well, I suspect.” Jon stood at the foot of the bed, back to the closed door.
“Dumbasses.”
“They ain’t dumb. Their hearts are in the right place.” Carol sat in a pink, cushioned chair by Sophia’s side.
Grease-matted hair encroached past her ears. Heavy bags hung beneath her eyes. Chipped and cracked fingernails topped every one of her fingers. She stunk as foul as the room and her daughter. The smallest, wisp of a smile lingered on her cracked lips.
Daryl glanced at her. His scowl softened to a frown. “Yeah, whatever,” he muttered. He tossed his pointed stick into a pile of many others and took up a fresh stick.
Carol picked at her thumbnail. “What about the Greenes? How are they after everything?”
“Just as misguided. If not worse,” Jon said. “Except Maggie. She appears to see things for what they are.”
“Don’t count on her, man. Push comes shove, family comes first. She’ll take their side.”
“What do you mean, push comes shove?” Carol asked.
“If we gotta take this place.” Daryl tossed another sharpened stick into his pile.
“Oh. Okay.”
Jon allowed himself a smile. “So you’d side with us then?”
Daryl wrinkled his nose. “Yeah, man. ‘Course we would.”
Carol gave a slow nod. “If it really came down to it. Yeah. What other choice is there?”
Thundering footsteps raged over Carol’s voice. They stormed down the hall outside. A door slammed. A second pair of footsteps stomped after them, followed by the pounding of a fist.
“Beth!” Maggie yelled.
“Go away! Traitor!”
A door handle rattled. “Open this door!”
“Leave me alone!”
“Stop acting like a fucking kid!”
“Stop acting like a psychopath!”
“Ugh!” Maggie thundered back down the hall then slammed a second door.
Sophia’s wheezing filled the silence. Daryl and Carol shared a disquieted look.
“Hershel’s not really stupid enough to try and make us leave, is he?” Carol asked.
“He strike you as smart?” Daryl asked. “Fucker housed up walkers like they were cattle or somethin’.”
“Let’s hope he finds reason,” Jon said.
Sophia’s wheezing stopped. She shifted and groaned. In a heartbeat, Carol snatched her knife from the bedside table and Daryl whipped his from his belt. Jon touched his dagger’s hilt. Tense as steel, they stared as Sophia rolled onto her back. Again, she groaned, then pissed herself. Carol sighed and put down her knife.
Daryl scowled. “Fuck’s sake. She needs new clothes and sheets. This shit’s fuckin’ undignified.”
“I’ll talk to Hershel about it. They must have other sheets,” Jon said.
Carol got up and rolled Sophia back onto her side. “That a good idea? After what you did?”
Jon’s jaw clenched. “Perhaps I should get Rick to do it…”
“That’s probably better.”
Daryl put away his knife. “The fuck we even askin’ for? Just go take-”
An engine’s roar filled the air. It peaked, assaulting Jon’s ears. Then faded off into the distance, giving way to a commotion of shouting.
“The fuck?!” Daryl rushed to the window.
Jon joined him. Outside, the others rushed across the fields and gravel to meet Rick before the porch. Off in the camp, Daryl’s bike was gone. A cloud of dust streaked down the farm’s road towards the asphalt.
“What’s going on?” Carol’s voice tightened.
“Someone stole my fuckin’ bike!” Daryl slammed the windowsill. “God fuckin’ dammit!” He snatched up his crossbow, a handful of arrows and barreled for the door.
However, with one foot out the door, he paused and looked back at Carol.
“Go,” Carol said. “They need you. Both of you.”
“You need me.”
“I’ll be fine. If she passes while you’re gone, I can do it. You know that.”
“Maybe…” Daryl stepped back inside the room. “But you shouldn’t have to do it alone.”
A full smile spread across Carol’s face. Tears welled in her eyes. Daryl put down his crossbow and grabbed Jon’s shoulder.
“You get my fuckin’ bike back.”
“Aye. I will.” Jon patted Daryl’s hand.
Daryl nodded and knelt at Carol’s side.
***
Downstairs, Jon flung open the front door and entered a world of shouting and raging. Atop the porch steps, Rick faced a huddle of raised voices battling to be heard. Empty bottles lay scattered about his feet on the steps.
“Everyone calm down!” Rick shouted over the voices. “He couldn’t have gone far! Glenn and I will go after him, y’all just go back to your tents!”
“Screw that!” Andrea yelled. “If he wants to run, let him. Why should we risk our lives?”
“Where’s your heart?!” Dale shouted. “The man’s grieving!”
“He’s insane, that’s what he is!”
“Where’s your fuckin’ empathy?!” T-Dog shouted.
“Give it a rest you guys!” Lori shouted.
“Be quiet and listen to Rick!” Glenn shouted.
Every voice raised as one in a grand, chaotic cacophony of noise. Rick shouted for calm and quiet, which only worsened things.
Bloody hell. Jon made to cross the porch and approached Rick. But before he’d taken more than two steps, Maggie burst out of the door with Beth in tow.
Her voice cut above the others. “What’s going on here?!”
Silence killed the cacophony. Rick gave Maggie a sullen look and opened his mouth to speak.
Andrea shouted. “Your dad’s lost his fucking mind! He stole our bike and drove off!”
Maggie sighed and wiped her hand over her face. “God dammit…”
Beth’s nostrils flared. She marched past her sister, pointing at Jon. “You! This is your fault!” She made to slap him.
Jon caught her wrist. “Calm yourself.”
“Let go of me!”
Jon let go and Beth snatched her wrist away. Tears welled in wide, sharp eyes. Maggie yanked Beth behind her, and Rick stood between her and Jon.
“Jon, where’s Ghost?” Rick asked.
“Hunting.”
Rick clicked his tongue. “Okay… then go get Daryl. We might need to track him.”
“No, you don’t,” Maggie said. “I know where he is. I’ll take you.”
“Where?” Beth asked.
Maggie frowned at her sister. “There’s this bar in town. Whenever he and my mom got into a fight, he’d always take off in the truck and spend the night there.”
Beth voice’s shrunk. “Oh.”
“How far?” Jon asked.
“Those cars still got gas?”
“They do,” Rick said.
“About ten minutes, then.”
***
By the time they’d gathered weapons and ammo and piled into the rangerover, dusk had given way to twilight. A new moon forbade but a faint sheen of silver starlight to linger in the absence of the sun. Jon sat in the back of the car beside Glenn, a pair of shotguns in their laps. Maggie waited behind the wheel, weaponless.
“But why does it have to be you?” Lori asked as Rick opened the passenger's side door. “You’re in no condition.”
That he isn’t. Weakness pestered Rick. Each step taken with a tremble and a clenched jaw. Every action done with stiff, taught hands.
Rick turned his back on the rangerover’s doorway and leaned on a rifle. “’Cause these people look up to me. If I say, ‘go out there and risk your lives’, how can I stay behind?”
“God, Rick. Look at yourself. You can barely stand.”
“Me bein’ out there gives ‘em hope.”
“You being out there’ll get you killed.”
Jon stuck his head out the window. “Don’t worry. We’ll keep him safe.”
“We won’t let him do anything dumb!” Glenn shouted.
Rick smiled at them both. Lori frowned.
“And what about Carl? What happens if he wakes up while you’re gone? He’ll be scared and confused. He’ll need his father.”
“Lori…” Rick chewed his lip. “Carl’s asleep; at rest. And safe and around those who care about him. Hershel’s out there right now; alone and hurtin’ and in danger. He could have fallen from that bike and hurt himself for all we know. And part of that’s my fault.” He glanced Jon’s way. “I gotta go.”
Lori let out a shaky sigh and pressed her head against Rick’s chest. “You come back. You hear? I will not lose you again.”
Rick bundled her in his arms. “I will. You won’t.”
“You two done?” Maggie asked.
Stern of face, Lori pulled away and nodded. “Done.”
Rick seized her by the shoulders. “Keep ‘em calm. Don’t let ‘em do anythin’ dumb. Shane especially.”
Lori nodded. They hugged again, kissed and then separated. Lori hurried away from the car a few paces while Rick ducked inside. Grunting, he slumped into his seat, lay his rifle across his lap and slammed the door shut. The engine roared to life, rattling the car around Jon. Twin beams blazed, dousing all ahead in bright, white light. They sped off across the field and down the gravel road, followed by a cloud of dust.
Through fields and forest, the asphalt road showed no signs of old men or motorbikes. Nor much of anything for that matter. Bar a few of the dead, wandering without purpose. They livened at the sight of the car and made to reach for it. Maggie clipped a few in her haste, splattering brains and black blood across the windows. Yet, for the most part, she weaved around them. The vet looked much the same as Jon’d left it, as they passed. Dark and dusty. The rangerover’s twin beams of light glimpsed the two corpses. They still rested outside on the gravel, headless, in pools of dried black blood. The tracks of the boy’s bike-without-engine remained in the gravel, a wavering line from vet to road. But new tracks joined it, thicker and straighter.
Jon tightened his grip on the shotgun. “We may not be alone out here.”
“We can deal with the dead,” Rick said, not taking his eyes off the road.
“I speak of the living. The companions of the boy who attacked Jenner and I are likely not far.”
Rick looked back at him, tight-jawed. “You sure?”
“Aye. There were new tracks on the gravel. And the boy spoke of revenge when he ran.”
Glenn gripped his shotgun. “He could have been bluffing.”
“Better to be safe and keep an eye out regardless.”
Rick nodded. “If we encounter hostiles, we run if we can. A shootout’s the last thing we need in the dark, with the dead all around.”
“Okay, good idea,” Glenn said.
Jon nodded. Best to avoid a fight, he agreed. Besides, Jon suspected that compared to blades, the conventions of battle varied quite vastly where it concerned guns. In a gunfight, he’d be out of his element, always on the back foot.
Maggie huffed. “I ain’t runnin’ without Dad.”
They drove into the heart of the town. Sidewalks and close-knit buildings replaced gravel paths and open fields. The dark bred blind spots upon blind spots. Thin alleys between every building, with spiked, steel fences harboured shadowy voids. Crossroads upon crossroads littered the streets with corners. Places to hide; places of ambush. Even with the light of twin beams, Jon felt as blind as if he were in a cave with no torch. Not a single corpse roamed the streets. Yet, signs of death were everywhere. Smashed windows, broken-down doors, crashed cars, burnt cars, burnt buildings, black blood, red blood; it all followed them wherever they went.
All of a sudden, Maggie stopped the car. “We’re here.” She moved a lever between her and Rick before rushing from the car. “Dad!” She yelled, marching for a building.
They piled out after her, guns at the ready. The building stood short and stout, made of brick walls and wide, paned-glass windows. Daryl’s bike lay discarded at it’s stoop. Starlight cast a sign hanging above its door in silver. ‘Joe’s Tavern,’ it read.
“Keep your voice down,” Rick hissed. He hurried after Maggie.
Glenn made to hurry after her too but Jon slowed him with a touch. “Keep your eyes open. Threats are everywhere,” Jon whispered. He scanned the inky pitch that filled the alleys and windows.
“Right.” Glenn took a deep breath as he scanned too.
Together, they approached the tavern with slow, considered steps, eyes trained on the dark. In an alley across the street, the starlight glinted off of nine pairs of eyes. Jon froze and squinted. He made out the silhouettes of several dogs. One crept forward, a lanky thing, all sleek black fur and pointy bones. It squeezed between the bars of the spiked, alley-way fence, bore its fangs and let out a low, guttural growl. However, a larger dog burst from the shadows and snapped its jaws by the other’s ear. The smaller dog tucked tail and retreated while the larger stared at Jon. For a moment they did naught but stare at each other before the dog snarled. It disappeared back into the shadows beyond the spiked, alleyway fence, along with the rest of the pack
“Where are all the dead?” Glenn whispered.
“Lurking, most like. Come, best we get out of sight.”
Inside, darkness, dust and blood covered the tavern. Two, half-decomposed walker corpses lay killed. One, sprawled out in the middle of the smooth, wood floor, rested a bludgeoned head on a crust of black blood. The other slumped over a long counter that ran the length of the tavern’s back, a hole blown through the back of its head. Maggots squirmed within the gaping wound. Tables, chairs, stools, cabinets and draws were all left in a chaotic state of disrepair as if a small storm had torn through the space. A lone stool remained on its legs and stood at the opposite end of the counter to the corpse. Atop the stool, Hershel sat, bathed in the golden light of a lamp. He poured drink from a dust-covered bottle into a filthy, smudged glass and drank deep.
Jon and Glenn joined Rick and Maggie in staring from across the tavern. While wrath darkened Maggie’s features, Rick’s stayed still and stony.
“Jon, Glenn, watch the windows,” Rick whispered.
“I might be old, but I ain’t deaf.” Hershel slurred his words. He poured another drink.
Glenn moved to the windows but Jon remained at Rick’s side.
“Is this place clear?” Jon whispered to him.
Rick whispered back. “Don’t know.” He raised his voice to speaking level. “Hershel, you gotta come with us.”
Jon moved to the window, attention split between the shadows outside and inside.
“Who else is with you?” Hershel drank.
“Dammit, Dad. It ain’t safe here.” Maggie marched across the bar.
Rick followed. They stood on either side of Hershel, looming over his shoulders.
“Jon, right? And Glenn?” Hershel chuckled bitterly as he poured another drink. “That boy follows you everywhere now, huh?”
“Glenn’s here to make sure you don’t get yourself killed,” Maggie hissed.
“That right?”
“How many you had, Hershel?” Rick asked, soft and calm, leaning on his rifle.
“Not enough.” Hershel drank.
Hershel made to pour another but Maggie snatched the bottle from his hand. He sighed, slumped his shoulders and stared at the counter. Rick rounded the counter and crouched with great effort so that his and Hershel’s eyes were level.
“Let’s finish this up back at home, okay? Back at your farm.”
“My farm? Is that right?”
“Get up!” Maggie grabbed his arm.
Hershel shrugged out of her grip.
“For fuck’s sake, Dad! Beth needs you! She just buried her mother, her brother, her friends, neighbours, even that Culver kid she was sweet on! You ain’t the only one who’s hurtin’!”
“What could I do? Make her worse? Fill her head with more… more lies.”
Maggie turned and threw her hands up in the air. “You’re unbelievable!”
“Hershel, I think you’re in shock, okay?” Rick said.
“She needs her mother.” Hershel’s voice wavered. “Or rather to mourn. Like she should have done weeks ago. I took that from her.” Hershel raised his head and stared at the ceiling.
Jon tightened the grip of his shotgun. Outside, he swore he spotted movement yet, when his eyes snapped to it, the shadows stiffened.
Rick clenched his jaw and stood, matching Hershel’s gaze. His rifle remained on the ground, out of hand. “You thought there’d be a cure, right? Can’t blame yourself for holdin’ out for hope. If I’d been in your situation, if that’d been Carl and Lori in that barn, I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same.”
“Then you’re just a big a fool as me.”
“I’m as scared as you. Scared for the future. Scared for now. But runnin’ away don’t fix none of that. You can’t run from this.”
“I ain’t runnin’. But I can’t fight neither. So, go ahead. Fight your fight. Try and rebuild for all it’s worth. Just do it without me. I’m done.”
“You’re just gonna give up?” Maggie snapped.
Hershel looked over his shoulder at Maggie. Golden light glinted off of moist eyes. “I’m layin’ down, Maggie. I’m old. Sometimes, you forget how old I really am. The fight, the fight I used to have, it’s gone. Has been for a while now.” He looked back at Rick. “You can have the farm. Not that my blessin’ means much. Couldn’t make you leave even if I wanted. So, take it. Use it for as long as you can. Never wanted the darn thing in the first place.”
Some of the sharpness left Maggie’s voice. “What do you mean?” She sounded like a frightened child. “You’ve lived there your whole life.”
“I grew up there. Bein’ farmers, that was Nan and Pa’s dream. An American dream for a pair of Scottish immigrants. I left for veterinary school first chance I got and never looked back. Until Pa had his stroke. I could have stayed, there, in Montgomery and finished my residency. I wanted to. But I came back, opened my little vet, met your mother… then Beth’s… By the time Nan passed and left the farm to me, you and Beth had lives here, school, friends, boyfriends. What kind of father would I have been to take that from you? So, take it Rick. Take the darn farm and leave me be. Lead your people, my daughters. I ain’t fit for what this world’s become. He showed me that.” Hershel pointed at Jon.
Rick glared at him, part shame, part fury.
Jon stood tall. “None of us are fit for this world. Yet, we go on living in spite of it.”
Hershel smiled and looked on Jon with soft, doughy eyes. “That’s your youth talkin’, son.”
An engine roared, faint and distant. Then another. And another. Jon whipped around to face the window. Outside, all remained dark and still. Yet, the engines roared louder, closer.
“We need to go, now,” Jon said, scanning the dark.
Rick’s voice gruffed. “Hershel, please.”
Hershel answered with silence.
“Glenn, do you see anything?” Jon asked.
Glenn jostled back and forth, craning his neck. “Nothing.”
The engines drew closer.
A stool or chair scraped across the ground, then slammed. Someone sat, hard. “If you’re stayin’, Dad. So am I.”
Hershel sighed and muttered. “Dammit, Maggie,” he said. “Fine. Let’s go.”
The engines roared loud, shaking Jon’s core. Beams of light flooded the street, gleaming off of dusty windows and the bulbs of arching street lamps.
“Behind the counter! All of us!” Jon hurried from the window.
“Shit,” Glenn followed.
Hershel gawked at them, afraid and confused. “What? Why? Do you know these people?”
“No, but best not to, aye?”
“Is there a side exit?” Rick asked, grabbing Hershel’s arm over the counter.
“Y-Yeah, right there-”
The front door flew open, rattling. Three figures meandered inside, veiled in shadow, armed with rifles and shotguns. As they stepped inside, the golden glow of the lantern revealed a short, stout older man with a head of stubble. He wielded some sort of shotgun, Jon assumed, with one barrel rather than two. A short, lean man, owner of but a single hand stood to the older man’s left. In his good hand, he wielded a shotgun with the barrels cut off. To the older man’s right, stood a tall, lanky woman wielding a hunting rifle. Above her left eyebrow, the numbers 1488 were tattooed in black ink. The three of them shared a look; long faces, narrow noses, and black of hair. Their dark, sharp eyes scanned the group.
“So it was you,” the older man said. “Didn’t think you’d survived, Hershel.”
Hershel rose from his stool and stepped forward, joining Jon’s side. “Clyde? Clyde Culver?”
Clyde Culver answered with a nod as he scanned the rest of them with a squint.
“What happened to your boy’s hand?” Hershel asked.
“That don’t concern you. Now, how about your little friends put down their guns so we can have a nice, calm conversation?”
“We will if you will,” Glenn answered at once.
“I’m afraid, that ain’t gonna work, Slit-eyes.”
In a flash, One-hand and Numbers had their guns raised, fingers on the trigger. Hershel gasped and staggered back. Maggie stiffened. Glenn cursed and went to his knees. Jon froze, staring down One-hand’s shortened barrels. Ice, steel and stone streaked through Jon’s veins, planting him firm where he stood, tightening his grip. The moment his hand squeezed the shotgun’s handle, Clyde’s eyes were on him.
“Don’t, son. Be smart about this now. Put it down.”
Before Jon could even think to kneel, Numbers’s eyes found his sword and widened.
“Look, the sword. That’s him! He’s the one who killed Dan!” she said.
“That true?!” One-hand bellowed, waving his gun. “You kill, my brother?!”
Jon’s chest clenched and he lost his breath. The scars along his chest, belly and heart flared hot red, like a dozen branding irons pressing hard into his flesh. He felt half mad; he aught to lie, to make some excuse, anything. But he couldn’t breathe, let alone think or speak. Desperately, he tried to breathe but instead, he only gawked at them like a fool. Clyde sighed.
“Go on, Caleb. Get it over with.”
“NO!” Hershel screamed.
A great weight slammed Jon from the side. The ground vanished from under him and the world spun. Sound beyond sound split Jon’s ears, a blast of heat flashed past his face and the floorboards rushed to meet his back. The ground took him from below and the great weight from above, squeezing the wind from him in one huge impact. As his ears rang and his mind spun, Hershel’s face filled his vision, afraid and bloodied. A boot knocked it away and then stomped Jon’s chest. In place of the old man’s face, twin barrels and One-hand’s glare bore down on him. A blast roared. One-hand’s chest exploded into red mist and pulp. He cried and fell; a ruptured sack of flesh and blood. The twin barrels vanished and beyond, Jon saw Clyde holler and raise his gun. Another blast rocked the world and Clyde’s throat exploded. Spluttering, he collapsed beside his son. Fire blazed in Jon’s chest and all of sudden he found himself on his knees, gun in hand, sights trained on Numbers. She fled for the door, unarmed. He squeezed the trigger ever so gently, just as Shane had taught him. A blast rocked Jon to his core and the woman’s back exploded. She hit the floor at once, soundless.
As a calm settled in, Jon’s ears continued to ring. But his mind sharpened all at once. Clyde lay before him, dying noisily in a growing crimson pool atop his son. Sticky warmth clung to Jon’s hands and face.
To his left, Maggie screamed. “Dad!” She scrambled past Jon to where Hershel lay, face down.
A curtain of blood wept from a streak across Hershel’s temple. Maggie seized him and he grunted struggling to all fours.
“Jon!” Rick shouted from behind the counter, rifle in hand. Crimson droplets speckled his face. “You okay?!”
Jon found his breath. “A-Aye.”
Glenn’s blood-soaked face filled his vision. “Are you hit?” he grabbed his shoulders.
Jon shook him off. “No.”
Eyes wide, Glenn nodded and scrambled over to Maggie. He helped her drag Hershel behind the counter. Outside, a voice shrieked.
“Pa! Caleb! Cynthia!” It sounded vaguely familiar. “Pa?!”
After a pause, a second voice shouted. “You motherfuckers!”
Hellfire erupted through the tavern’s front wall. Without thought, Jon threw himself to the ground and covered his head. Glass and mortar hailed. Rolling, rapid thunder crackled, smothering distant screams. It lasted an age, the gunfire bore down on him, crackling, crackling, crackling, never-ending sound. It tore his head apart from the inside out. Until all of sudden, it vanished. Jon scrambled, hands and knees. Numb pricks stabbed his palms, wetting and warming them. He saw only the counter, shelter, cover, safety. Like a maddened beast, he scampered behind it where he found the others, knees to their chests, hands on their heads, cowering in the golden lamp-light.
“The light!” Rick shouted.
Hershel sprang up and made a grab for the lamp. A single gunshot boomed. Hershel screamed and he and the lamp came tumbling down. The lamp hit the ground but didn’t break. It bathed Hershel in light. Where two fingers ought to be, two bloody stumps gushed crimson. Hershel wailed. Maggie screamed. Jon pounced on the lamp. He dashed it against the counter, dousing them in darkness, stealing sight, leaving only sound. The others’ voices clashed and combined, yelling over Hershel’s feverish wailing.
“Put pressure! Put pressure!”
“Who’s armed?!”
“Are you hit anywhere else?!”
“Oh god! Put fucking pressure, I said!”
“I am!”
“His hand not his head!”
“Jon, Glenn have you got your guns?!”
Jon ignored them and listened elsewhere. Outside, other voices were shouting. Jon honed in on a man’s voice.
“Fuck’s sake, just move the truck back, Pete! Give us some fuckin’ light!”
An engine roared over the others' shouting, silencing them all, even Hershel. Bright, white light poured through the tattered front wall of the tavern, illuminating all. Jon saw Maggie and Glenn holding rags torn from their shirts over Hershel’s wounds. Despite the pressure applied, his lifeblood gushed in pulsing, crimson waves from beneath the rags. Rick crouched by their side with a rifle in hand, finger on the trigger. His eyes found Jon’s. He touched his holster then nodded to Jon’s, to Needle. Jon nodded and unsheathed the pistol. Unwelcome shakes troubled his hands. Shakes that persisted no matter how steady he breathed. What’s the matter with me? An icy chill burned the scar over his heart.
“See, empty. We got ‘em all,” said a different man’s voice outside.
“No way, I heard ‘em,” yet another voice said, the same who’d shouted for his Pa, the one that sounded vaguely familiar.
“You don’t know what you heard, Randy.”
“Better safe than sorry,” said the other man.
A second round of hellfire erupted through the front. Jon tucked his knees and covered his head as the others dived to do the same. Rolling thunder roared and crackled. Bullets peppered the back wall, back and forth and back and forth, showering Jon in dust and mortar. When it became clear the gunman had aimed too high, Jon lifted his head. The light lit up the back of the tavern, revealing a side exit.
Jon shouted over the gunfire. “There’s a side exit! We can flank them from the alley!”
Rick uncovered his head and nodded. “I’ll go!”
“No, you stay here! You’re too slow!” Glenn’s shotgun lay discarded by Hershel’s side. “Glenn, you come!”
Glenn uncovered his head. “What?!”
“Come with me! Out the side! We’ll flank them!”
Suddenly, the gunfire stopped. The changing of magazines clicked and clacked. Rick whipped his colt from its holster and thrust it into Maggie’s hands.
“We’ll cover you,” he whispered.
“Right.” Jon pointed to Glenn’s gun. “Pick it up!” he hissed.
“O-Okay.” Glenn scrambled for the gun.
“Dammit, Jack! That’s enough!” A voice outside yelled. “You’ll draw the dead ones!”
“You ain’t never let me have fun! We killed all the dead anyhow!”
“God dammit, do as your-”
Rick and Maggie sprang up and unloaded their weapons over the counter. The voices outside screamed and shouted. Jon and Glenn made a dash for the side exit across shards of brick and glass. A shot rang out and a bullet clipped Jon’s shoulder, carving a line of pain across his skin. He put his head down and barged through the exit just as the third bout of hellfire tore through the tavern. Jon charged down the alley, Glenn hot on his heels. At the end stood a spiked, alley-way fence with a gate open ajar.
“They’re comin’!” shouted the familiar voice, muffled by the hellfire.
But by then it was too late. Jon and Glenn burst through the alley gate, guns raised. A black-haired man crouched behind the rangerover, spraying the tavern with bullets. He noticed them. But too late. Jon had him in Needle’s sights. He squeezed the trigger. A tremble plagued his hands and Needle’s shot exploded through the man’s shoulder. The man cried and fell, raising his gun at Jon. Glenn appeared at Jon’s side. Thunder screamed. Heat and flames spat from his shotgun. The man’s face and chest erupted into bloody mist and pulp. He died spluttering. Glenn fired at a truck with a flatbed on the back, parked across the street. Its front window shattered.
“Shit, he ducked!”
Thunder clapped from the rooftops. Sparks spat off the pavement, inches from Jon’s feet.
“Fuck!” a voice shouted.
“Take cover!” Glenn dove back into the alley.
Jon ran forward and dove behind the rangerover. Thunder cracked and a bullet spat sparks above Jon’s head.
“Get out here, motherfucker!” A voice shouted from the roof.
The man in the truck yelled. “Forget ‘em, Randy! Jump down! Get in the back!”
“Okay!” Hurried footsteps scampered across the roof.
Jon peered over the rangerover and spied a shadow silhouette dashing across the rooftop. He put the silhouette in Needle’s sights and fired three times. The first shot missed. Then the second. But the third landed. Screaming, the silhouette tumbled from the roof and impaled itself on the steel spikes of an alleyway fence. The screaming persisted, carrying high into the night, wailing and shrieking, like game caught in a trap. The other man cursed loudly and the truck’s engine roared. Tyres squealed on asphalt as the truck peeled off down the road. Jon unloaded the last of Needle’s ammo but only managed to spit sparks off the truck’s steel.
Jon shouted above the incessant wailing of the impaled. “All’s clear!”
“Are y’all hit?!” Rick shouted.
Glenn gave no response. Lowering his shotgun, he crept out of the alley, staring at the corpse in the street. The impaled cried for help and mercy.
“We’re fine! Hurry, the dead will be upon us soon!”
“Good! Get the back seats down! Hershel’s losin’ consciousness!”
“Aye!”
Jon flung open the range rover’s back doors and found the handle behind the back row of seats. He lowered them, extending the trunk.
“I killed him...” he heard Glenn say.
“Aye.”
“PLEASE!” wailed the impaled. “HELP ME HELP ME PLEASE!”
“We gotta help him…”
Jon ducked out of the car. “Leave him, he’s doomed and our enemy besides.”
“Don’t leave meeeeee!” the impaled sobbed. A boy’s voice, Jon realised. Boy, man. Woman, girl. It makes no matter.
Rick and Maggie stumbled out of the tavern’s ruined entrance, supporting one of Hershel’s arms each. Feebly, Hershel staggered between them, tripping over his own feet. A crimson curtain masked half his face, matting his white beard. As Rick and Maggie were about to get him in the car, the impaled cried again.
“PLEASE! I don’t wanna die…”
Hershel cried out and flailed, wrenching free of Rick and Maggie’s grip. “We can’t leave that boy to die!”
Rick looked as if he were about to agree, so Jon spoke first to stop the folly.
“Aye, I’ll end his suffering.” He sheathed Needle and drew Longclaw.
“No, dammit! Look at him!” Hershel pointed to the silhouette. “He’s impaled through the legs. We can save him.”
Jon didn’t look to confirm. “We haven’t the time and he’s our enemy, besides.”
“He’s a boy! Randall Culver!”
“I want my mom!” the boy, Randall Culver screamed. “I want my moooooooom! Pa! It hurts!” Sobbing overtook the screams. The silhouette thrashed.
“Dad, Jon’s right.” Maggie grabbed her father’s arm. “Randall Culver’s a skinhead piece of shit like the rest of ‘em, anyhow.”
“A child! A few years younger than Beth even!” Hershel wrenched free again, splattering blood on the pavement from his ruined hand.
He shouldered past Jon and hurried across the street. Maggie ran after him.
“Dad, get back here!”
“God dammit,” Rick muttered. He hurried after them.
“He sealed his fate the moment he fired upon us. Just as the others did.” Jon followed at Rick’s heels.
“We killed those guys 'cause we had to, man,” Glenn said. “He isn’t a threat anymore.”
Jon ignored Glenn’s folly. Before the spiked fence, Hershel and Rick stood before the thrashing boy, inspecting his impaled legs. The spikes skewered either thigh from beneath, danging the boy over the back of the fence. Maggie watched from afar, arms crossed. Glenn rushed to help.
“I guess we could break the spikes,” Glenn said. “That way the wounds stays sealed.”
“With what?” Hershel asked.
“If you free him, the moment he’s healed he’ll try to kill us all,” Jon said.
Hershel and Glenn scowled at him but Rick took pause.
“What if he were Carl?” Hershel asked.
“But he isn’t,” Jon added. “That’s our enemy. We’ve just murdered his family. He’ll kill all of us, the first moment he gets, Carl included.”
“Please please please no I won’t I won’t please I promise I promise!” the boy blabbered.
Hershel grabbed the boy’s right leg. “Listen to him, Rick. He’s one scared boy. He ain’t a threat no more. Now help me lift him off.”
Rick ran his hand through his hair, sighed and grabbed the boy’s right leg. As one, Rick and Hershel yanked the boy off of the spikes. Blood sprayed and the boy wailed.
#fanfic#fanfiction#ao3#ao3fic#asoiaf fanfic#jon snow#the walking dead#rick grimes#the walking dead fanfic#jon snow fanfiction#rick grimes fanfiction#carl grimes fanfiction#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon#twd daryl#game of thrones#games of thrones fanfiction#art#asoiaf art#the walking dead art#horror
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Don't Blame Me|| Dixon D.
read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/hEQ0d8a
by XOastorybynatxoxo
"For you, I would cross the line
I would waste my time
I would lose my mind
They say, "She's gone too far this time"
Don't blame me, love made me crazy
If it doesn't, you ain't doin' it right"
- Don't Blame Me, Taylor Swift
OR IN WHICH
The Winchester Sister is away from her brothers during the apocalypse and fights to get back to them.
Winchester Sister x Daryl Dixon
Words: 10026, Chapters: 4/?, Language: English
Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005), The Walking Dead (TV)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Categories: F/M
Characters: Original Winchester Character(s), Daryl Dixon, Rick Grimes, Lori Grimes, Shane Walsh, Sophia Peletier, Carol Peletier, Glenn Rhee, Maggie Greene, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Beth Greene (Walking Dead), Original Male Character(s), Connie (Walking Dead)
Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Original Female Character(s), Lori Grimes/Rick Grimes, Rick Grimes/Michonne, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence
read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/hEQ0d8a
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Don't Blame Me|| Dixon D.
read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/TogMVNw
by XOastorybynatxoxo
"For you, I would cross the line
I would waste my time
I would lose my mind
They say, "She's gone too far this time"
Don't blame me, love made me crazy
If it doesn't, you ain't doin' it right"
- Don't Blame Me, Taylor Swift
OR IN WHICH
The Winchester Sister is away from her brothers during the apocalypse and fights to get back to them.
Winchester Sister x Daryl Dixon
Words: 10026, Chapters: 4/?, Language: English
Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005), The Walking Dead (TV)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Categories: F/M
Characters: Original Winchester Character(s), Daryl Dixon, Rick Grimes, Lori Grimes, Shane Walsh, Sophia Peletier, Carol Peletier, Glenn Rhee, Maggie Greene, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Beth Greene (Walking Dead), Original Male Character(s), Connie (Walking Dead)
Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Original Female Character(s), Lori Grimes/Rick Grimes, Rick Grimes/Michonne, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence
read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/TogMVNw
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Fated: Season 8
Summary: Gloria Rhee narrowly escapes Atlanta with her brother as the outbreak reaches the city. Luckily, they find a camp outside the city and together, they fend through encounters with the living and undead.
Starts a little before Season 1 and then follows the main storyline of the show.
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Glenn Sister!OC
Warnings: major TWD spoilers, language, violence (the typical TWD stuff)
A/N: and here we are... the FINAL (temporarily anyway hehe) chapter of Fated! It’s a pretty bittersweet feeling since I grew so attached to this series, I don’t really want it to end, which is why I have plans to continue it with the next few seasons of the show! And I know that the gif I used for this chapter was from season 6... but it was so hard to find any gifs of Daryl smiling... which is sad :( ANYWAY, let’s go forth with the last chapter!!!
Chapter 10
It was mid afternoon at the Hilltop, people were going about their lives and doing their chores around the community. Gloria lies in her bed with a tired smile as she watches Daryl cradle the newborn baby girl in his arms, cooing at their daughter she had just given birth to mere hours ago.
“Hey,” Gloria calls out as she sits herself up on the bed, “haven’t you hogged her enough?”
Daryl looks at her and scoffs playfully, “ya’ve had her for nine months, and ya say I’m hoggin’ her.”
“That’s not even the same thing! And for the record, I didn’t even know I had her for the first four months.” she argues with a pout.
“Tha’s yer fault.” Daryl replies with a smirk then looks down at the baby girl in his arms, “isn’t it? Hm?”
Gloria isn’t able to hide her smile as she sees Daryl talking to the baby, she then opens her arms in his direction, “can I at least get some affection from my husband then?”
Daryl looks at her and smiles at her words, he steps towards the bed as Gloria scoots to the side, making room for him to sit down. Cradling the baby in his arm, wrapping his other around Gloria who snuggles into him. She leans her head on his chest as she smiles down at their daughter.
“How did we make something so innocent and pure like her?” Gloria says softly, not wanting to wake up the sleeping girl.
“She gets all that from ya,” he says, pressing a kiss on Gloria’s forehead, “she wouldn’ be here if it weren’t for ya.”
“You say that as if you don’t know how babies are made,” she chuckles, making Daryl roll his eyes.
“I mean it,” he looks at her sincerely, “ya carried her for 9 months, yer body protected her, even from the Saviors and ya didn’t even know ya had her. If ya weren’t as tough and strong as ya are, she might not’ve made it.”
Gloria smiles at his words and brushes their daughter’s cheek gently with her finger, “I can’t take all the credit for that, she’s a little fighter too, I just did my role as a mother, even if I didn’t know it yet, my body for sure did.”
Daryl hums in agreement, “an’ I’ll protect ya both, like a dad’s supposed to.”
Gloria looks at Daryl at his words, “hey,” she calls out to him in a whisper as she caresses his face.
There was a sadness in Daryl’s voice and Gloria knew where it came from. She knew very well what kind of man Daryl’s father was and what he did to Daryl and Merle when they were kids.
“You’re gonna be such an amazing father, I can tell.” she says with a soft smile.
“Can ya?” he lets out a small chuckle.
Gloria nods, “just by the way you hold her, you’re a natural. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you had more experience, and I’m not just talking about Judith.”
“Hmm... maybe I do an’ jus’ never told ya.” Daryl teases with a smirk.
She eyes him playfully, “you’re lucky I love you.”
“You’re right, I am,” he says, pulling her in for a kiss, “I’m the luckiest man alive.”
Gloria giggles into his lips and kisses him back tenderly. Their kiss is interrupted by a knock on the door, the two pull away from each other as Maggie opens the door with a smile.
“Hey, how are you feeling?” she asks.
“Not too bad, given that I just popped a baby out of me,” Gloria says with a chuckle.
“Are you able to walk?” Maggie asks, “Carol’s downstairs with the others, if you’re too tired I can let them know.”
“I think I’ll be okay, I may need you to help me down the stairs though,” Gloria smiles.
Maggie chuckles and nods, going over to Gloria as she gets off the bed, “since you got attached, you hold onto her,” Gloria says to Daryl.
He scoffs playfully and gets off the bed as well, not denying that he did get attached to their daughter fairly quickly. The three of them make it out the room with Daryl carrying the little girl in his arms as they go down the stairs. Maggie gently holds onto Gloria as she takes each step and finally they’re on the ground floor. Gloria turns into what she considered the lobby of the Barrington house and she’s greeted by delighted smiles of people from Alexandria and the Kingdom. Carol is the first to go up to hug her.
“We came as soon as we heard it was happening,” she says as she pulls away from the hug, “how are you feeling?”
“Tired, exhausted, can’t wait to sleep,” Gloria says with a chuckle.
“I have some bad news for you then,” Rick says with a teasing smile, “you and Daryl aren’t gonna have a good night’s sleep for a while.”
“I don’ sleep much anyway,” Daryl mutters then turns his attention to their daughter who had woken up, “right? You’re gonna keep us up, aren’t ya?”
“I’ve never seen Daryl like that before,” Aaron says in awe as he watches the two.
“He was like that with Judith,” Michonne grins at the sight.
Daryl looks at the others who are staring at him, slight blush creeping on his cheeks, “what?”
Tara shrugs, “I just don’t think I’ve ever seen or heard you be so... gentle before?”
“Yeah, it’s amazing what kind of hold she has on you,” Rosita grins as she teases Daryl.
Eugene nods as he stands beside her, “I have to say, witnessing Daryl as amiable as he is right now is really a sight to behold.”
Daryl purses his lips and looks to Gloria for help and she chuckles as she shakes her head, “alright guys, that’s enough, you’re embarrassing him.”
“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Daryl,” Ezekiel smiles warmly at him, “I believe what the others are trying to say is that you are a natural with your kin.”
“You’re a natural, dude!” Jerry chimes in cheerily.
“Thanks..” Daryl mutters, his face still a light shade of pink.
“So!” Jesus starts, clapping his hands together, “Have you two decided on a name for your little girl?”
His question turns their immediate attention to Daryl and Gloria, patiently waiting for their answer. They all look eager to chime in with suggestions if needed. Gloria smiles at this and glances at Daryl.
“Go ahead,” he says with a small smile.
Gloria nods then looks at the others, mainly focusing on Maggie and Carol, “we decided to name her Sophia Bethany Dixon.”
Grateful smiles light up Maggie and Carol’s faces as they hear the name given. Gloria lets out a breath of relief when they thank her with a deep hug. She and Daryl had discussed it when they found out they had a daughter. Gloria thought it was only fitting to name her after Sophia and Beth to honor the girls.
---
Sophia is now a few days old as Gloria places her in the crib beside Hershel’s. She’s finally drifted off to sleep after a crying fit. Gloria lets out a soft sigh then goes to check on Hershel and smiles at his little sleeping figure. She tucks them both in to make sure they’re sound asleep then leaves the nursery. She makes her way to Maggie’s office and knocks three times before opening the door.
“Hey Maggie-” Gloria says as she opens the door but cuts herself short when she doesn’t see her sister-in-law in the room.
Instead, she’s met by Jesus standing by the door, Rick leaning on the desk, Daryl sitting on one of the chairs placed along the wall, and Ezekiel and Aaron standing by the chairs facing the desk. Gloria blinks as they all turn to look at her.
“Everythin’ okay?” Daryl perks up when he sees his wife in the doorway as if he’s ready to ditch whatever conversation is going on.
“Yeah, I’m just looking for Maggie, wanted to let her know the kids are out,” Gloria smiles at him then glances around the room, “so what’s going on here?”
“Nothin’-” Daryl tries to speak but he’s interrupted by Rick.
“Shouldn’t she have a say in this?” Rick says, gesturing to Gloria.
Gloria furrows her brows in confusion, crossing her arms and leaning on the door, propping it open, “have a say in what?”
“We’re trying to decide who Sophia’s Godfather should be.” Aaron informs her.
“Godfather?” Gloria lets out a chuckle, amused, “let me guess, you all have amazing reasons for why we should pick you?”
“I’m a King!” Ezekiel exclaims.
“I saved your life,” Aaron reminds her.
“Daryl’s my brother.” Rick says matter-of-factly.
“Come on, you call me Jesus.” he says, giving Gloria a knowing look.
“Ya see what I had to deal with in the last hour?” Daryl groans.
She shakes her head as she lets out a laugh, “okay... Ezekiel, you’re gonna be too busy taking care of the Kingdom and looking after Henry. Aaron, as much as I am very appreciative of you saving my life, you have your hands full with Gracie, already. And Rick, being Daryl’s brother means you’re already her uncle. Plus, all of you are busy in your own communities anyway.”
Jesus looks at her with a grin, “does that mean I win?”
“I can’t say I don’t like calling you Jesus and being her Godfather. ” Gloria tells him.
As she speaks, the main door to the Barrington house opens and Maggie, Carol, Rosita, and Tara walk in. The women glance at each other as they see Gloria standing in the doorway of Maggie’s office, propping open the door with her body.
“What’s going on?” Maggie asks as she walks towards her office.
Gloria turns to look at Maggie, “the guys are fighting over who’s Sophia’s Godfather.”
“My bet’s on Jesus.” Tara chips in, “his name, it’s Jesus!”
“Thank you!” he exclaims from inside the room, then grins cheekily, “and you were about to name me Sophia’s Godfather before they walked in?”
“Well, no,” Gloria chuckles as he pouts, “I was about to say that you’re going to have to fight Carol on the Godparent position.”
Gloria had this conversation with the women before Sophia was born. Maggie and Gloria had an agreement that since they were directly Hershel’s and Sophia’s aunts, it wouldn’t be fair for the others to give each other the title. Maggie had appointed Tara as Hershel’s Godmother. Rosita was perfectly fine with being their aunt. Daryl was more than accepting of Carol being his child’s Godmother.
Rick, Jesus, and Aaron groan in disappointment, knowing that it was impossible to beat Carol in a fight, as Ezekiel grins happily, “oh glorious day! I have been named Godfather of the lovely Sophia Bethany Dixon! Haha!”
The others look at Ezekiel in confusion while Carol freezes at his words. Gloria glances over at Carol and notices her cheeks flushing a light pink. A grin spreads across Gloria’s face and her grin is noticed by the other women and they all turn to look at Carol. She looks at them nervously and fidgets, making the other women giggle.
“Congratulations, Carol.” Gloria chuckles, patting Carol’s arm.
She rolls her eyes playfully at her and smiles, “thank you, now if we can stop him from announcing it to the world, that would be nice.”
They laugh at her words as Ezekiel says his speech, announcing his relationship with Carol, earning a groan from her. Everyone except for Carol is immersed in Ezekiel’s poetic proclamation of love for her when a baby’s cry catches Maggie and Gloria’s attention.
“That’s Hershel,” Maggie says, instinctually heading towards the nursery, then a second cry can be heard.
“And he woke Sophia...” Gloria sighs as she follows Maggie into the nursery.
---
A few months have passed since Sohia was born. She is now able to sit up with some assistance as she plays in the nursery with Hershel beside her. Gloria sits on the other side of her in case Sophia loses her balance and falls. Maggie comes into the nursery with two bottles of formula and sits down on the ground beside her son.
“Here,” Maggie says, handing a bottle to Gloria, “just so they don’t whine when they’re hungry.”
She chuckles and nods, “thanks, we both know how impatient these two can get.”
Maggie smiles and hums in agreement as they watch their children. Hershel and Sophia were both busy playing with the toys in front of them. As the two of them reach for the same toy, Hershel reaches it first but lets go of it when Sophia grabs it and lets out a small whimper when she isn’t able to get it. Hershel watches her as she giggles when she is able to get the toy then he gently reaches over to her and pats her head. The sight of brotherly affection brings tears to Gloria’s eyes as Maggie smiles in awe at the two.
“Did you see that?” Maggie says, her voice full of delight.
Gloria nods, sniffling slightly as she tries to hold in her tears, “Yeah...”
Maggie looks over and her brows furrow in concern, “Gloria... what’s wrong? Talk to me.”
“Nothing... he just reminds me so much of Glenn...” she says with a soft tearful smile.
“There’s more to it than that,” Maggie reaches her hand out and holds Gloria’s, “there’s been something bothering you even before the war ended, don’t think I didn’t notice.”
Gloria looks at Maggie and sighs deeply, “I disappointed Glenn...”
Maggie frowns at this, “what makes you say that?”
“I let revenge, hate, and anger get to me, I killed a lot of people-” Gloria is cut off by Maggie.
“We were fighting a war, what did you expect?,” Maggie tells her.
“I became a cold hearted killer, Maggie...” Gloria lets out a breath, “I killed a lot of people on my own because I wanted all of the Saviors to die to avenge Glenn. I wanted them all dead so I did what I thought was right, I thought they were all bad people... but now I see they can be people we can even trust, like Alden, Laura... what if I killed people who didn’t deserve to die?”
“That’s the unfortunate thing about a war, people die. A lot of people die, even those who don’t deserve it, you were protecting what was yours, taking back what belongs to you. You did what you had to do.” Maggie tries to comfort her.
“What if I didn’t have to kill all those people? What if I only thought it was what I had to do because I was blinded by rage? What if I made the wrong choices?” Gloria says as a tear rolls down her cheek.
“Then you admit that you made a mistake,” Maggie reaches out and wipes the tear away, “admit that you made a mistake then fix it.”
“How? I killed a lot of people, Maggie... how do I fix that?” Gloria asks.
Maggie ponders for a moment then smiles softly, “do you remember back at the farm when I was mad at Glenn for telling everyone about the walkers in the barn?”
“How could I forget? You egged him.” Gloria says with a slight chuckle.
Maggie chuckles and nods, “I did, but then afterwards, you came up to me and gave me good reasons to give him a chance to explain himself. Did he ever tell you what he said to me?”
Gloria shakes her head, “he didn’t, and I never thought it was my business to ask.”
“He told me that he knows he screwed everything up with me by telling everyone about the barn, and that he knows there’s no going back in time to undo it, but he believes that he can make up for it by doing the right thing.” Maggie explains.
“That is such a Glenn thing to say...” Gloria chuckles, “do the right thing... how do I know what’s the right thing to even do?”
“I asked him the same thing when he said it, and can you guess what he said to me?” Maggie says.
Gloria ponders for a moment, “that his heart would know.”
Maggie widens her eyes in awe, not expecting Gloria to actually be able to guess, then smiles and nods, “exactly.”
Gloria smiles at Maggie then she looks at Hershel and Sophia as they share toys with each other. Sophia coos at Hershel as she hands him a building block and Hershel responds with a babble. Gloria’s heart had her answer, she’d start by properly raising Sophia and protecting her, making sure that she would know the right choices to make. That’s only the start but that’s how she would be able to make it up to Glenn.
---
“Hey, she’s almost a year old,” Gloria says over her shoulder as she sits on the bed with a notebook propped open.
“Already?” Daryl responds, sitting on the bed and leaning on the headboard with Sophia bouncing in his lap, “you’re growin’ so fast.”
“Mhm, today’s day three hundred and fifty,” Gloria says as she writes the number on the top of the page.
She’d been keeping a journal since the day that Sophia was born. Gloria wanted to be able to keep track of her daughter’s daily progression, and to make sure she didn’t lose track of her birthday; if the adults weren’t able to have a birthday, at least her daughter would be able to have one.
Sophia lets out a babble and points to Daryl’s face then begins to giggle. He raises his eyebrow at this and playfully eyes her.
“I think she’s laughin’ at me,” he says, earning a chuckle from Gloria, “are ya laughin’ at me? Huh? Ya laughin’ at yer dad?”
“Dada!” Sophia squeals.
Daryl freezes in place as Gloria snaps her head back to look at the two, “did she just... call you Dada?”
“I dunno...” he says in a whisper as he stares at her.
Gloria puts the book on the nightstand beside the bed then moves to sit beside Daryl, “Sophia, did you say Dada? Can you say that again?”
Sophia looks at her mom and blinks, letting out a few incoherent babbles. Gloria remembers that Harlan told her babies tend to babble things that sound like mommy or daddy when they’re around Sophia’s age but they might not have any recognition of what those sounds mean. She decides to test it; she waves her hand in front of Sophia to get her attention then points to Daryl.
“Dada!” she says again.
“You’re her first word!” Gloria exclaims happily.
Daryl grins and leans down to kiss her forehead, “knew ya were a daddy’s girl.”
“Don’t ruin the moment,” Gloria rolls her eyes playfully.
He chuckles then leans back as Sophia decides that she’s going to plop on Daryl and snuggle him, “Dada.”
Gloria smiles at the sight and kisses the top of Sophia’s head then moves up to kiss Daryl’s cheek. She adjusts herself so that she’s lying down beside him.
“I guess this is how you’re sleeping tonight?” Gloria says as she sees Sophia closing her eyes.
“Guess so.” Daryl says softly then carefully moves his arm to wrap around Gloria, pulling her close to him.
For the last two and a half years, life had been hectic for Daryl and Gloria to say the least. The outbreak that caused the end of the world was a blessing in disguise as they had only found each other after the world ended. Many would and have considered them an unpredictable couple, but together they fought through the odds. Whether it was fighting the walkers or the people who turned into monsters because of the outbreak, they would get through all of it together. They belong together. They are fated to be together.
---
This was literally just a chapter of pure fluff.... AND I LOVE IT. I couldn’t really think of a better way to end this series, but like I said before, this is only a temporary end! I have some ideas for the next seasons ^^
I want to say a huge THANK YOU to everyone who’s supported this story, from the bottom of my heart, thank you so so so so much for reading, commenting, liking, and just being there for me throughout this story. I love you all so much! You guys are the best!
Please let me know what you thought of this chapter, I always love hearing from you~!
Taglist (please let me know if you’d like to be added/removed!):
@twdeadfanfic | @fandomfanatic97 | @crossbowking | @watchmeaspire | @spidergirla5 | @kamieshep | @letsstarsfalling | @molethemollie | @alicewinchester99 | @neilox | @womanup22 | @jodiereedus22 | @theonlyone-meeeee | @theunofficialduke | @inlovewdxx | @delightfullykrispypeach | @mrsfortune1306 | @wolfkg | @funeral-7 | @wnygirl2012 | @alispaceme | @themihala | @aavocadocloud | @polkadottedpillowcase | @felicisimor | @depressedfrog2 | @spacexkiddo0 | @rachelxwayne | @liadamerondjarin | @soraitmnt | @angelofthorr | @vampteefies | @lightning-butterfly | @huffledor-able541 | @squigglylinesdotthei | @carnationworld | @supernatural79impala | @reichelhache
#Daryl Dixon#Daryl Dixon Fanfic#Daryl Dixon Fanfiction#Daryl Dixon Imagine#Daryl Dixon X OC#Daryl Dixon X Original Character#Daryl Dixon X Glenn Sister!OC#Daryl Dixon X Glenn Sister!Original Character#TWD#TWD Fanfic#TWD Fanfiction#TWD Imagine#The Walking Dead#The Walking Dead Fanfic#The Walking Dead Fanfiction#The Walking Dead Imagine#Glenn Rhee#Glenn Sister!OC#Glenn Sister!Original Character#Fated#Fated: Season 8#Fated: S8: Chapter 10
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Some Crazy Stranger - Notes/Explanation/Characters/Etc.
(This post is linked to the Masterlist for my "Some Crazy Stranger" series. It is to help explain things about the story for people who might have questions. I know there are a lot of things people might be asking so I just want to make sure they're able to get answers without having to go through my inbox + wait for an answer. If you have a question and the answer isn't here, please don't hesitate to ask!)
I have a tendency to be repetitive when explaining things, so bear with me.
The stories are on my main account, @wee-little-book! This is just a secondary blog for the sake of notes/explanations, etc.
Alright, guys! First things first. If you saw the original story, then you know that was an absolute DUMPSTER FIRE and I apologize for ever putting that on the internet <3
I rushed the HELL out of it and ngl I was too afraid to add in my own scenes so I just ended up shuffling around the scenes in TWD to fit in my character. In this new version of "Just Some Stranger" I'll actually be taking time to add in my own scenes, but there are still going to be original scenes from the show.
***THE WALKING DEAD SPOILERS***
If you watch the show, then you know that a lot of the scenes in the show are detrimental to who Daryl becomes as a character. That's why it's called character development.
I know most fanfictions usually do some kind of spinoff and never include the actual show, but I'm going to be doing something different!
Eloise
TW - Health Issues
As usual(you can tell if you read anything else I've written), Eloise has problems with her immune system. To avoid any sort of conflict, I won't be naming this illness. Long story short, she just gets sick very often.
Eloise Greene is an OC of mine. She was made long before I thought to write this story.
I noticed her name was the same as Maggie/Beth/Hershel, so I went ahead and decided to add her into the mix. She's Beth's sister, coming from Hershel's second wife, Annette. She went to college to be a veterinarian just like Hershel.
I'm taking into account that people did evacuate before the fall, and I'll say that her college had closed due to said evacuations. For the sake of time and accuracy with age, I'm going to say that she was supposed to graduate just before the world went to shit.
Scene Writing + Editing
TW - Usual TWD Tags/Spoilers
For this story, I'm going to work much harder to implement my own scenes. I was always afraid I'd be going way off track with who Daryl is and wind up making a story that doesn't make any sense. To avoid that, I'm putting in Eloise as a main character in the show like Maggie. Glenn, Beth, etc. As expected, with new characters comes new scenes - and altered scenes.
I won't be doing anything major to the large scenes in TWD, but I will have to make some changes in order to make it feel like Eloise isn't just wandering around with them and not doing anything. While this is mainly a Daryl Dixon x OC, I still want to have her gain relationships with other characters. Who knows, I might even make a love triangle! (The love triangle idea was amazing in @naughtyneganjdm's "The Guest" it's one of my favorite fanfiction series on Tumblr. Please go read their stuff! It's all amazing! 100/10! also if you see this I'm sorry for the notification/mention I just want people who see this post to be able to find you <3)
So, back to the reason as to why I'm not just making a whole new spinoff.
I love the show, and I don't want to fuck with the show.
Daryl's scenes are extremely important to who he is/becomes. He needs those scenes to happen in order for him to get that character development. However, if I were to make some spinoff where Daryl goes off on his own and isn't around the others, then I'd either end up having to completely skip the scenes that actually happened/give a short description of them happening/or just pretend he wasn't there for them. For the sake of keeping Daryl as Daryl, I'm going to write it as if Eloise was one of the cast and have it be a semi-slowburn with Daryl.
Trevor/Her Boyfriend
TW - Abuse
Her boyfriend, Trevor(totally not the name of one of my ex-boyfriends because it's not my work if it's not self-insert), came home with her from college. It doesn't take much reading to realize he's starting to become an abusive cunt-bag after everything fell apart.
*spoilers for SCS in next paragraph*
As the story progresses, it's made clear that Trevor was the manipulative/verbal/mental type of abuser. After the fall/the main cast arrives on the farm, that's when he begins to get physical. I added Trevor in as a character because I wanted to initiate some kind of protector role for Daryl. He's always trying to protect everyone, so I figured that would be a decent way for them to be able to come together, and we all know how daryl is one of those "PUT YOUR HANDS ON THEM AGAIN I DARE YOU" types and we love him for it <3
and just to clarify a little, yes it does kind of seem like Eloise is gonna cheat on Trevor or something, but she breaks up with him before anything like pre-marital-hand-holding happens <3
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Mobile Masterlist A-L
Hi all, I finally finished my mobile masterlist! Because of how many fics I have, and tumblr’s funny rule about word count per post, I had to split it up into two parts. On this post, you will find all my fics and headcanons for characters whose first name starts with A-L. The second part of my masterlist can be found here and in my description.
If any of the links are broken or not working, please let me know!!
Last updated: 18 June 2021
Anakin Skywalker:
Challenge
Padawan
Someday
Andy Dwyer:
Competition
Nephew
Dear Allie
Aragorn:
Right Hand Man
Arthur Pendragon:
Headcanons
My Shot
Set Up
12 Days of Christmas
August Booth:
Presents
Babe Heffron:
Wait
Thankful
The Gate
A Goddamn Virgin
Fake Boyfriend
Barry Allen:
Wine Tasting
Snowball Fights
Christmas Proposal
☂ Ship
Blessing
Just Ask
Bellamy Blake:
For You
Dangerous Woman
Together
Ben Wyatt:
Comic Con
Comic Couple
Bill Denbrough:
Fumbling
Boromir:
Thief
Don’t Go Back
Headcanons
Brian Cassidy:
Strip Club
My Wife
Headcanons
Bruce Banner:
History Has Its Eyes on You
Bruce Wayne:
Secret
Saved, Part Three (Originally a Joker x Reder fic)
Saved, Part Four
Let Me Love You
Irresponsible
Christmas Present
OTP Parents Meme
Take a Break
Bucky Barnes:
Flannel Shirt
☂ Ship
Till the Day I Die
Trick
Playing in the Snow
Tree Decorating
Say It
Say It, Part Two
Say It, Part Three
Headcanons
Never Gonna Leave
Telling
10 Things I Hate About You
The Ravine
Bonfire
Thinking About You
Cozy Night In
Needed You
Braids and Tugs
Carl Grimes:
Smile
Best Friend
Carol Danvers:
Bumpy
Our Last Summer
Clint Barton:
Teasing
Daryl Dixon:
The Claimers
David Nolan:
Headcanons
I Put A Spell on You
Derek Hale:
Cold
Scary Movies
Fall Sports
Mistletoe
Sometimes
Diana Prince:
On Your Side
Dick Winters:
Faith
Dream
Digger Harkness:
Fellow Aussie
Donald Malarkey
Headcanons
Draco Malfoy:
Are You Okay?
Are You Okay?, Part Two
I Love Her
I Love Her, Part Two
Skipping Class
The Daily Prophet
Hurricane
Sew For It
Thank You for the Music
Emma Swan:
My Daughter
My Daughter, Part Two
Apologizing
OTP Parents Meme
Headcanons
Eomer:
Waiting
Headcanons
Snowflakes
New Year
Best of Wives and Best of Women
Mistletoe
Reindeer
Believe
Cries
Eugene Roe:
Headcanons
Faramir:
Bedtime Rituals
What’s Your Name
Fili:
The Night Before
Finn:
Proposal
Frank Castle:
A Wonderful Life
Headcanons
Fred Weasley:
Alphabet Soup
Seamus’s Sister Has Got It Going On
You’re Beautiful With Me
The Dursleys
The Dursleys, Part Two
Headcanons
The Burrow
Torture
Time
One Last Time
Homecoming
Scarf
Butterflies
Detention
Fire Whiskey
Magicless
Count to Ten
Christmas at the Burrow
Spells, Dishes, and Perfect(ly Time) Snogging
When the Money’s Gone
Lay All Your Love on Me
Gabe Holbrook:
Kissing Santa
Gendry:
Stuck With You
George Luz:
I Know Him
Headcanons
George Weasley:
First Kisses
Headcanons
A Muggle Christmas
Matching Halloween Costumes
Bonfire
OTP Parent Meme
It’s Quiet Uptown
Secret Santa
Slipping Through My Fingers
Glenn Rhee:
Corn Maze
Do You Trust Me?
Headcanons
Graham Humbert (The Huntsman):
Hearts
Gwaine:
The Window
Satisfied
Icicle Licking
Lost in the Woods
Han Solo:
Headcanons
Harley Quinn:
French Bulldogs and French Kissing
Harry Potter:
Caught
I Love Her
I Love Her, Part Two
Anger
Horcrux
Warm Sweaters
Snape’s Daughter
I Loved, and I Loved, and I Lost You
Illya Kuryakin:
409
Owning Up
Isaac Lahey:
Haunted House
Tree Lighting
Into You
Clowns and Coffee Pots
Jason DiLaurentis:
First Date
Telling Him
Fashion Show
Pictures
Biggest Mistake
Biggest Mistake, Part Two
The Elevator
She’s Mine
Are You Okay?
Closet
Accident
Secret
Best Friends
Leaving
Bad Day
I’ll Stay With You
It’s Fun
Tiger Lily
Toy Story
Fight
It Hurts Me to See You in Pain
Cozy Night In
Baking
Fall Festival
Return
First Kiss
You’re Back
3:00 a.m.
Cheating
Torture
Change
I’ll See You Around
Coping
Forever
Babysitting
Fearless
OTP Parent Meme
Merry Marry
Jefferson:
Hats, Portals, and Love
Thursdays
Fall Festival
Headcanons
Different
Our Story
First Day of School
Jim Kirk:
Headcanons
The Bridge
Halloween
Scary Movies
Drunk Carolling
Studying
Worry
OTP Parent Meme
Going Home
Does Your Mother Know
Jillian Holtzmann:
Headcanons
First Day
Surprise Party
Joe Liebgott:
Headcanons
Joe Toye:
Headcanons
Apple Cider
Pain in the Ass
John Murphy:
I Don’t Care
Joker:
I’m Not Gonna Hurt Ya
Saved
Saved, Part Two
Saved, Part Three
Saved, Part Four
What Do You Know
Connection
Hope
I’ll Always Save You
You Can Trust Me
Jon Snow:
Enough
Masquerade
Who You Are
Sparks Fly
Headcanons
Jonathan Crane:
Field Trip
Kili:
Teasing
Killian Jones:
Your Secret is Safe With Me
Your Secret is Safe With Me, Part Two
Don’t Go
Bonfire
Headcanons
Moonlight
Kylo Ren:
Headcanons
Disguises
Stay Alive
Lancelot:
Love Returned
Legolas:
Headcanons
Leon:
Helpless
Lady
Succeeding
Leonard McCoy:
Savior
Savior, Part Two
Dammit
Flannel Shirt
Don’t Go
Proposal
Our Choices
Headcanons
214
Family Vacation
Helping
Doctor, Doctor
Sick
Fairytale
Prank
Halloween Party
Haunted House
Joanna
Apple Bobbing
Baking
Cold
Honesty is the Best Policy
Favors
Christmas Wish
Jump
Surprise
Safe With Me
Five Years
Concentration
OTP Parents Meme
I Know
He Knows
Foliage Fiance
Worry
Christmas Mishaps
Letting You Go
Lewis Nixon:
Distractions
Loki:
Jealousy
Marriage of Equals
Nerves
OTP Parents Meme
Headcanons
Burn
Freyfest
The Losers Club:
Ice Skating
Luke Skywalker:
I Know You
I Know You, Part Two
Headcanons
#please reblog because with all the links it won't show up in the tags#masterlist#molly talks#luke skywalker#star wars#the losers club#it#loki#marvel#lewis nixon#band of brothers#leonard mccoy#star trek#leon#legolas#kylo ren#killian jones#kili#anakin skywalker#andy dwyer#parks and rec#jason dilaurentis#jonathan crane#jon snow#joker#dc#john murphy#the 100#joe toye#joe liebgott
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Chapter 3 - This Time Around
a Daryl Dixon x OFC collaboration written by @xmistressmistrustx
Rating: Explicit
Relationship: Daryl Dixon/Original Female Character
Tags: Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Awkwardness, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Crush, Fluff and Humor, Angst and Humor, Mild Smut, Strong Language, Eventual Sex, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence, Some Canon Scenes and Dialogue
Chapters 15/?
On her way down to the water, Jess blinked the sun from her eyes and slapped her baseball cap on. They still had many more weeks left of the relentless sun and heat, the only let up being the late afternoons and early evenings when there was a little respite from the heat. Only then, when night crept in did the temperature change drastically, becoming colder but not enough for Jess to wear a jacket or sweater. She never really seemed to feel the cold all that much, she put it down to having lived in so many different places with such differing weather. Sarah had quite loudly blamed the fact that she had more layers of fat than most. Jess grit her teeth and shoved the comment away, hoping that not too many people from the group had heard her.
Her sneakers flapped against the dusty surface of the slope as she neared the bottom. Carol was in the corner by the shore, Ed watching her closely as she washed his shirt. Sophia sat on a rock nearby playing with her doll. Her soft chatter like a delightful tune to Jess’s ears. On the opposite side, was Daryl, knee deep in the water and holding up a sopping wet shirt with a huge bloodstain right in the middle. She scuffed towards him and stopped by the waters edge.
“How you doing, Stinky?” She chirped.
Daryl glanced over his shoulder at her. He was wearing a simple, off-white vest that was turning transparent from the water.
“Fine.” He called back.
She tilted her head to one side as she observed him trying to remove the stubborn stain from the garment. Her knowledge of history and attendance at many, authentic renaissance fairs had led to a vast knowledge of life without washer dryers and laundromats. She kicked off her sneakers, rolled her jeans up and waded into the water.
“Give it here, you’re making a pigs ear of that.” She chuckled.
“Been washin’ my stuff in rivers all my life, you can’t teach me shit, girl” he shot back, although he didn’t sound angry, more intrigued than anything else. She stopped beside him, the water lapping at her thighs. In the blistering heat, it was a welcome respite. Her body temperate cooled and she really wanted to just dive in and submerge herself in the tantalizing freshness of the water.
“You’re so stubborn. Just humor me, c’mon.” She said, reaching out for the shirt.
He reluctantly dragged it up from the water. Once again, she couldn’t help but notice his strong arms and dragged her lower lip under her front teeth. When her eyes lifted to his face, she was alarmed to find him staring right at her.
“Jess?” He asked with one eyebrow raised.
“Um. Sorry. I wasn’t looking- I mean...” She pointed a finger at him “…give me the damn shirt” and snatched it from his grasp. “Uh…” She shook the image from her head and waded a couple of steps to her left, meeting a large rock protruding from the water. “You need to use a rock. Like this.”
Swirling the shirt around in the water, she kept her eyes firmly on what she was doing, knowing that if she risked a peek, he would be able to see straight through her and her inability to ignore his two best features. Gathering the shirt up, she began massaging it into the smooth rock. He silently looked on from behind her, craning his neck to see what she was doing. Then, she took hold of one end of the shirt and beat it against the surface with a loud slap that echoed across the quarry each time. Daryl thought it looked like she was taking some serious anger out on his one and only shirt and hoped it would still be in one piece when she was done. When she stepped back, dipped it in the water and held it up, the stain had visibly diminished
“That was a lot of blood.” She remarked with a small pant. The last thing she wanted was for him to know how out of breath she was from battering a rock with a large piece of fabric.
“Yeah” He agreed. “Aint mine.”
“I know.” She said quickly, meaning he was now staring at her again. “That’s what I-I was looking for” She stammered, motioning to his arm. “Injuries.”
He nodded, feigning agreement. “Yeah, sure.”
“Damn right. That’s me. Always checking folks for injuries.” She babbled as she wrung the shirt out and attempted to slosh past him.
“No ya aint.” He argued with a small smile.
She sighed and turned to him “Alright. No, I don’t. But I really was with you. Honestly.”
“Right” He grinned.
“Here.” She said, tossing the twisted ball of fabric at him “I’m going before I embarrass myself even more.”
“Sure” He grunted. “Oh, don’t forget to check Merle for injuries.”
She stopped and slowly looked over her shoulder, her lips pushed into a thin line before she released a bashful laugh and flapped her hands at her sides, tilting her head back and sighing at the sky.
“That’s for callin’ me Stinky.” He confirmed while wading back to the shore and passing her.
“OK. We’re even. I’ll leave checking Merle over to twisted sister number 2” she mentioned, her hands coming up and dramatically shielding her mouth as she gasped and giggled loudly, the sound bouncing from the cliffs around the water. Daryl let himself go and laughed along with her as they both paddled through the water and back to dry land.
Gives as good as she gets, this girl.
Carol looked up when she heard Daryl and Jess laughing with one another as she walked out of the water, her lips curled into a smile when she saw Daryl beaming from ear to ear, a sight she had never seen since she’d met him for the first time. She’d assumed he never displayed such an expression, but it was now clear that he just didn’t have anything to smile about before.
“I say you could stop?” Ed snapped from behind her. “I need that damn shirt.”
She resumed her task without argument, the happy scene she’d witnessed making it all a little easier.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
That night, Jess was taken off guard when she passed the RV. She held an empty, metal bowl after eating alone in her tent and was distracted by a whistle from the top of the vehicle. She looked up to see Daryl reclined in his seat, in his usual spot but a lot earlier than usual. He nudged his head up, beckoning for her to join him. It had been weeks since they’d first met and she felt a sense of pride when she thought of how far they’d come and how they'd managed to at least partially break down each others barriers. She wasn’t yet sure about saying they were friends, but she was certain they enjoyed each other’s company.
Returning her plastic cutlery and her camping bowl to the bucket in the food prep area, she passed Sarah and Jodie who were immersed in hushed whispers as usual. Also, around the campfire, was Glenn, Andrea, her sister Amy, Merle, Dale and T-dog. She offered them all a polite smile, receiving the same back. Carol and Rick retreated into their tents with their families and Shane was out checking the fences. Having never really seen Daryl and Jess on their regular perch, everyone exchanged glances when she climbed the ladder to the RV, their nightly routine now revealed to the group.
Appearing beside him, she sat down and caught his eye. Saying nothing, they sat side by side for a while until the chatter resumed below and both of them were certain the topic of conversation was not directed at them. Jess slumped down in her seat, rested her head on the backrest and closed her eyes while Daryl lit a cigarette. After a while, Jess found she’d drifted off into a light sleep and woke only when she heard Sarah wish Daryl a good night in her typical, flirtatious high school cheerleader voice. Daryl ignored her.
Jess sat up and rubbed at her face, clearing her throat and raising her eyebrows at the distance Daryl was able to flick his cigarette end out into the distance.
“What were you doing when the word ended?” She wanted to know. The sound of her voice seemed to slice through the atmosphere like a knife and she smarted at the sound. “Wow, never thought I’d say that sentence.” She added more quietly.
He flicked his lighter on and off over and over again as he struggled to decide if he should tell her the truth or not. Concluding that he had previously snapped at her and offended her and she was still sat with him, he guessed she would be able to handle it.
“Was workin’ my way through four lines of coke when I looked up and saw the TV had that national guard alert thing on it.” He disclosed.
“Yeah, we saw that on our phones. My friend and I. We were at a renaissance fair.” She said casually.
He briefly wondered why she didn’t seem bothered that he confessed so openly to being a cocaine user when it occurred to him that she simply took people as they were, flaws or not.
“A what?” He questioned.
“A Renaissance fair. It’s a recreation of a historical setting with costumes and role play and stuff, for a whole weekend.”
His expression was one of pure bafflement as he stared at her.
“So, you like… get all dressed up and run around in a field pretending to’ to fight or some shit?”
“Well, that’s the battle reenactment part. But it happens, Yeah.” She affirmed.
His brow furrowed. “You’re kinda weird, y’know that?”
“I think that’s what you like about me.” She grinned as she leaned towards him and nudged his elbow with hers. It was the first time she’d actually physically touched him aside from letting him help her up from the ground in the woods. He didn’t react which she could only take as a good sign.
“I don’t like nobody.” He scoffed.
Jess huffed and rolled her eyes, a bright smile on her face that he could see clearly enough due to light from a lantern between them.
“Yes, you do. Just accept that you’re as weird as me and that’s why we get along.” She grinned.
Part of him hated that she was able to draw smiles out of him like no one else he had ever known, but the other part of him liked the fact that when he was with her, things seemed that little bit easier.
“Whatever.” He dismissed.
She laughed to herself and got up, reaching her arms high above her head and stretching her muscles.
“Where ya goin?” He questioned.
“Back to my tent.” She yawned. “Tired”
“Ya ain’t got no more weird hobbies to tell me about?” He continued.
Jess was mildly shocked by the question, he wanted her to tell him about her hobbies? He wanted to talk to her at all? It no longer felt like she was forcing him to converse with her, he’d taken the lead this time and she was more than happy to let him have it.
“Wasn’t aware you were that interested.” She admitted.
“I ain’t. Just nothin better to do.” He shrugged.
Jess plonked herself back in the rickety chair again and shifted her body to face him, throwing one leg over the other.
“OK, so if my hobbies are weird, what are yours?” She challenged.
At the prospect of being asked more about himself and his life, his desire to talk lessened considerably in seconds.
“Ain’t talkin’ ‘bout me” He mumbled.
“I am.” She glared at him with a bold and entertained look.
Accepting that he wasn’t going to get out of answering her probing and he was partly to blame for encouraging her to stay, he nibbled his bottom lip and answered her question.
“Fine. Huntin’, drinkin’, gettin’ high”
"And spittin' chaw in a bucket?" She joked.
"Asshole" He grumbled as she covered her mouth with her hand and stifled a giggle.
Birds flew overhead, a now rare sight that meant there were still some species out there somewhere, flourishing away from all the decay. Jess swayed back and forth in her seat with her arms wrapped around herself.
“Maybe you can teach me how to hunt, drink and get high one day.” She suggested breezily.
“Nah, I ain’t wastin’ time with no lightweight.” He declined.
“Just makes me a cheap date.” She realized instantly that she’d just come out with something unintentionally flirtatious and panicked. “I mean, yeah…uh… probably a lightweight.” She laughed awkwardly as she played with the hem of her T-shirt.
“Ya ever been huntin’?” He wanted to know, ignoring her outward discomfort and wondering what it was that made her so fidgety sometimes.
“No. I’d like to.” She said.
He nodded, leaning forward and picking up a leaf from the roof of the RV. He fiddled with it, folded it in half and then in half again.
“Too dangerous to be out there without knowin’ whatcha doin’.” He expressed.
“Yeah. Guess you’re right. And I wouldn’t.” She agreed.
Believing she’d murdered the conversation with her careless chit chat, she stopped talking and resigned herself to sitting quietly and tapping her sneaker on the edge of the roof again. More time passed and Jess couldn’t think of a way to get up and leave without seeming embarrassed or strange. She knew she was overthinking everything but being in the presence of someone she was actually starting to find highly attractive was unsettling and she wasn’t used to it.
“So, what’s the difference?” She heard him utter out of nowhere.
“What?”
“Said ya ain’t shy, ya introverted. What’s the difference?”
Two enquiries into her personality and interests in one night meant that she may have been all over the place and afraid to do something wrong, but the night had still been a small triumph in itself.
“Shy means you’re anxious about talking to people. Nervous and timid. Introverts aren’t always like that; we just need to re-charge sometimes. We’re confident with people we’re comfortable around. I’ll talk to people but I usually find most folks just drain me. I guess I’m just quiet by nature, but I’m not shy.” She explained.
“Hm.” He grunted. “Some kind of head shrinker tell you that?”
“No. It’s kind of common knowledge. Or at least I thought it was.” She disclosed “I think maybe your introverted too, it’s something we have in common.”
“Nah. I just think most folks are assholes.” He countered quickly
Jess giggled at his stubborn streak and for the second time Daryl realized that he liked the fact that she thought him funny. His mouth quirked up into a half smile.
“I’ll leave you alone to recharge your introvert batteries.” She winked at him. “Goodnight.”
She didn’t hear him protest or call her back as she descended the ladder so when her feet hit the ground, she made straight for her tent, longing for her sleeping bag and wishing she had a pen so she could record the events of her time spent sat with someone she really would have liked to have called her friend.
“Hey.” A voice called out. She turned back and saw him smoking yet another cigarette and leaning forward in his seat. “Ya wanna learn how to track animals?” A thin line of smoke rose from where he sat, high up into the air before it vanished.
A rush of excitement thundered through her and she wrestled with the urge not to grin too widely.
“Yeah, that sounds good.” She squeaked, her voice emerging in higher pitch than she’d expected.
“Sunrise. Meet me at the tree line over there” he lifted his arm, pointing across the camp. “Make sure ya have somethin to eat first. Ya pass out on me i’ma leave ya ass out there.”
Jess knew it was a playful dig at her making him eat a bowl of berries before going hunting and liked the fact that he’d remembered and used it on her. Turning the tables and proving that their jibing at one another was enjoyed as much by him as it was by her.
“OK. I will.” She beamed. “See you at sunrise”
“One more thing” He rasped, standing up and driving a hand into his jeans pocket. Her eyes grew larger when she saw the plastic box clasped in his fingers as he tugged them out of his pocket. He threw it down to her, the box clattering in the dust at her feet. She looked down at it and wanted nothing more than to run back to the ladder and hug him. Five precious, black, ballpoint pens.
“Yours stopped workin’, right?” He checked.
“Yeah.” She responded as she gingerly bent down to pick them up.
“Saw ‘em when I was out on a run with Rick the other day.”
He thought of me when he was out on a run?
She opened her mouth to speak, but what was a simple gesture from Daryl was a huge deal to Jess. He had just given her back the ability to express her emotions and keep her sanity in check. Now, she would need no more dangerous walks in the woods alone and she could write until she fell asleep.
“This is um…you don’t know how grateful I am for this. Thank you, Daryl.” She said, swallowing hard and looking right at him.
“No problem.” He grunted, raising a hand at her in a small wave “Night.”
Before she succumbed to sleep, Jess sat cross legged on her sleeping bag with her torch in her mouth, shining down on the page and began to write.
It’s funny, I never thought someone throwing a box of pens at me would mean so much. Daryl knew I couldn’t write because my one and only pen stopped working, so he brought me back a box from a supply run. I must have looked at him like he had grown an extra head. I just couldn’t believe he thought of me while he was out there. I can write again, my mind feels clearer already and I’m happier. All because he got me some stupid pens.
OK, maybe it isn’t just the pens. He seems to be coming around to the idea of us being friends. Tonight, he didn’t actually say it but he wanted me to go sit with him on the RV and then tried to act as though he wasn’t interested in me at all while asking me questions about myself. He’s actually got a sense of humor and a personality that he’s slowly but surely letting me see and it’s awesome. He’s pretty awesome.
But he caught me looking at him today. It was mortifying and I’m so angry at myself. Yeah, the guy is hot. But I thought I was stronger than to get caught practically drooling at him. He knew too. He knew exactly what was going on and I feel like my life is officially over.
Hopefully, I’ll get eaten by a walker or he’ll get a bout of amnesia.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Her T-shirt was sticking to her back with sweat. She really wanted to know how Daryl did this every day in such heat and sometimes even with his leather vest on. She was sure she’d pass out and had consumed most of the water she brought with her before they’d even been out for an hour. Daryl crept along in front of her, examining the ground and snapped branches of foliage In the woods. Try as she might, she kept falling behind and her legs felt like they were made of cement.
I really should have used that gym membership.
“C’mon, keep up. Stay close to me.” Daryl instructed from in front of her. She could see that the back of his shirt was also dampened with sweat, but unlike her, he showed little to no signs of fatigue.
“It’s so damn hot out here” she complained “am I in hell?!”
“Purgatory at best.” He mumbled
She dragged the back of her hand through the perspiration on her top lip.
Great. A sweat moustache. Sexy.
“Looooord. I’m MEEELTING!” She cried.
“Shh!” He whirled around, bundling her against a tree with his fingers wrapped around the top of one of her arms. The movement was so quick and unexpected and her flesh stung but she didn’t flinch, his temper too short for her to react. She couldn’t deny that fear tickled her veins and she was rooted to the spot. “You stupid or somethin?! Ain’t just animals out here. Place is full of Walkers and ya gonna get us both bit if ya don’t keep ya god damn voice down.” He hissed at her through gritted teeth.
“OK. I’m sorry.” She whispered. “You’re hurting me”
In a split second, he was full of guilt for losing his temper at her as he examined her alarmed expression. He looked down at his hand clamped tightly around her arm. He quickly let go as if her skin was made from lava, seeing the red mark he’d left behind. An angry handprint. He shrank back and she noticed his eyes kept dropping and coming back to the burning patch around her bicep.
“I-I didn’t mean to-“ he mumbled.
“-It’s OK.” She interrupted “really, it’s OK.”
He dragged a hand over his face, his crossbow rattling against his legs as he held it loosely in his grasp with his other hand.
“Come on, let’s keep going.” She suggested, stepping away from the tree and motioning with her hand for him to pass her.
“Wait” he grunted. She stopped and stood still, witnessing what she could only describe as pure, genuine regret in the angry, aggressive redneck.
“I wouldn’t hurt ya. Not on purpose.” He told her
“Daryl, I know” Jess tried
“Naw, Naw” He dismissed, waving a hand at her. “I saw it. in your eyes. Ya scared of me.”
Jess exhaled slowly and tried to ground herself. This was a conversation she had definitely not anticipated and one with which she knew she needed to exercise extreme caution with.
“You just surprised me. I’m not scared of you. I wouldn’t spend half as much time with you if I was. I understand why you got mad at me, I’m kind of annoying and I don’t know how to handle this new world like you do.”
He paced about in the small space between the trees in front of her. Back to front, side to side, before he finally stopped and began to bite his thumbnail.
“Sorry.” He muttered from behind his hand.
Jess smiled at him. In that moment, she knew that Daryl was not good at apologies and had very likely, hardly ever, genuinely apologized for anything in his life.
“I told you. It’s OK”
He nodded once, raised his crossbow again and charged past her.
“Ya gotta keep up so I can keep an eye on ya.” He grumbled
She took a quick swig of water from the bottle that was fastened to a plastic strap on her belt and carried on after him, wishing that it was raining, or snowing, or that she was standing in the water of the quarry washing clothes. But the view made up for it and she couldn’t lie to herself, watching Daryl stalk about between the trees, concentration etched on his face, his crossbow at the ready and his strong physique shining in the light of the sun as he moved was almost enough to make her forget what she was doing there altogether. But while she thought Daryl nice to look at, she remained platonically interested in him and what he had to teach her there and then, knowing that someday, she might need to use the information presented to her.
“See this right here.” He stopped and pointed with his boot to a nibbled patch of grass “deer.”
Jess finally caught up, standing next to him and regarding the slightly disturbed area on the ground.
“How do you know that?!” She asked with surprise.
“They’re messy eaters. They press it against their top palette and yank it right outta the ground.”
Her face changed and she thought for a moment as her lips rose into a smile.
“Like a really cute lawn mower.” She commented.
He just looked at her as if she was crazy.
“What about Walkers? Can you track them?” She wanted to know as she peered down at the missing grass, noting the disturbed earth under it.
“Walkers and live humans are easiest to track. We leave footprints, stamped down grass, broken twigs and messed up foliage. That kinda shit.” He explained.
She began to back away with a glint in her eye that he didn’t like the look of.
“So if I ran off, you’d be able to track me?” She asked.
He followed her, walking with her as she stepped backwards. She was challenging him and he didn’t like it one bit. Not out there in the open. Not where she could get killed.
“I could, but runnin’ off would be a real dumb thing to do.” He warned.
“Look at me, it’s not like I’m going to get far.” She gestured to her torso with her hands.
“Stop.” He ordered firmly
“Maybe I should try, could use the exercise” she shrugged lightheartedly, aware she was once again prodding at his temper but caring very little. Angry Daryl wasn’t all that bad to look at either.
He was glaring at her, his blue eyes intense. For such a mysterious, introverted and antisocial person, she couldn’t figure out why it was that he seemed to manage and maintain eye contact with her on a number of occasions. Not that she was complaining.
“Ya stay with me, so I can keep ya safe.” He affirmed.
His switch in tone from relaxed to stern and protective stirred something in Jess. She liked the way his eyes locked with hers as he talked about keeping her safe. She hadn’t expected this level of care from him and could only hazard a guess that it was because he actually did like her enough to want her around. She nodded and gestured with her hand for him to continue leading the way.
“How did you learn this?” She queried.
“My ol’ man used to take me out into the woods. Blindfold me and bail. Had to track him.”
“Well, it worked.”
“Yeah. He’d tan my hide every time I got it wrong.”
Jess smiled at the ground as she walked but it soon dawned on her that he could be serious and that there was the possibility that Daryl didn’t have the best upbringing in the world.
“You taught anyone else how to do this?” She continued in her quest to find out more about him.
“Naw.”
“Don’t you and Merle usually hunt together?”
“Not no more. We split up. He’s more interested in getting’ laid. Stop askin’ questions, every animal in Georgia can hear ya.” He scolded.
“Sorry.” She muttered as she scanned the area around them. A darkened, bumpy patch around a tree stump caught her eye and she skirted away from Daryl, approaching it with some hesitation.
“Are those edible?” She questioned while leaning forwards over the gathering of mushrooms.
“Again with the damn questions” he complained as he stomped over to where she stood and followed her gaze.
“I have to ask questions to learn” she corrected, straightening up and raising an eyebrow at him.
“Yeah, can eat those” He answered, ignoring her last statement.. “But don’t eat nothin’ like that without askin’ me or Merle or someone that knows what the hell they’re talkin’ ‘bout. The wrong ones could kill ya.”
“Or get me real high.” She suggested with a wink.
“You ever done shrooms?” His face was unimpressed, not taken in by her playful line of questioning.
She placed both hands on her hips and let out a small laugh “Do I look like I’ve done shrooms?”
“Right. No. Don’t touch any unless ya desperate.” He told her before resuming her lesson about different types of tracks. He explained how animals have certain ways of moving which leave footprints that signal what they are. Along with how to identify bird tracks and how to cover her own path if she ever need to escape Into the woods.
“Why would I run away from another live human?” She asked.
“Can’t trust people no more. Some of ‘em are worse than the Walkers.” He replied. “Ya see another person, keep ya distance and ya weapon ready. They could steal your shit or wanna eat ya with the way things are goin’.”
That’s food for thought.
“I’m a catch. I’d keep them fed for at least a fortnight.” She chirped.
He suddenly stopped and glared back at her. She couldn’t read his expression, somewhere between irritation and confusion. He said nothing and carried on walking.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
The majority of the day was highly educational for Jess and she took a vested interest in being able to hunt her own food and escape without trace into the trees. She’d even been able to practice a few things. Daryl let her use his crossbow to shoot a squirrel and she shocked herself when she celebrated the animals demise instead of crying about it. That was her squirrel, he had told her. She was going to skin it and eat it because it was her first ever successful hunt. She felt a swelling sense of pride in her chest when he handed it to her and made sure she carried it back to camp.
As they neared the tree line that separated them from the clearing in which the fire was being started for the evening, Jess and Daryl slowly wandered along, neither of them really wanting to go back and sit among the others. Their time alone in the woods had been mutually enjoyable and peaceful and Daryl considered asking her if she wanted to do the same again the next day. Before he could speak, she beat him to it.
“I enjoyed today.” She confessed. “It was very educational.”
“Me too.” He replied quietly, keeping his vision on his path and hoisting the string of squirrels and various other small, dead animals further up his shoulder.
“Where’s your vest?” She enquired, using it as an excuse to catch a glimpse of his arms.
Screw it. I’ve earned this.
He looked up at her briefly, catching her eyes sweeping his upper arm and chose to ignore it as as he prepared for her reaction to what he was about to tell her.
“Washed it this mornin’. Was dryin’ when I left.” She began to giggle to herself and felt him shove her in the arm in jest. “Shut up.” He grunted.
“He actually listened to me. Oh my god.” She said to herself with a wide grin.
“It’s a one off. Don’t act so smug.” He grumbled as they both stepped out of the trees into the open area of the camp. Activity was at a minimum. Shane and Lori were talking in the corner, Carol sat with Sophia by the fire as Glenn fanned the initial flames. Andrea was atop of the RV while Dale was at the food station. Jess turned to Daryl with her squirrel gripped in her hand by its tail.
“Thank you. For taking me out.” She said sincerely.
“You’re welcome.” He said with a nod.
It was a clear and sincere acceptance and strangely polite for him. But she appreciated it all the same. He intended to follow it up with an invitation to do the same the next day, but something shattered his plan.
“Thank you for taking me out Daryl I love youuuuu!” A high-pitched voice mocked from behind them.
Daryl whirled around and locked his sights on Sarah.
“What’s up? You jealous or somethin?! Huh?” He raged as he stormed towards them. Jess managed to grab one of his arms to stop him but she shrugged her off and told her in no uncertain terms that she was going to let him say his piece.
”I should ram this squirrel down her throat” Jess said under her breath.
Daryl’s rage was evidently scaring Sarah into submission to an extent. When he stopped in front of her and loomed over as she perched on a tree stump, his eyes narrowed and Jodie, who was sat beside Sarah, instinctively moved away and stood nearby like the true coward she was.
“You deaf as well as stupid?” He seethed.
“N-no.” She said with an air of fake confidence..
“You wouldn’t wanna go out there anyways, I’d feed ya skinny ass to the Walkers before the heat melts that plastic shit in ya face.” He hissed. “You got a thing for Rednecks? That why ya jealous?”
“No”
“Funny. Ain’t what I’ve seen.”
“Don’t you dare.” Sarah warned
“C’mere. I gotta tell ya somethin.” He leaned closer, curling his index finger at her and gesturing for her to move forwards. She refused, so he defiantly positioned his face by her ear. “Threatenin’ me ain’t wise, bitch. Not with what I saw ya doin with my brother in the woods.”
“You didn’t see anything. I wasn’t doing anything.” She protested through gritted teeth.
He moved back slightly, looking right at her. His lip curling in disgust. He hated girls like Sarah and Jodie as much as Jess seemed to. He too had endured their persecution at high school.
“Harder, Merle. Harder.” He mocked quietly adapting his voice and making it higher-pitched.
Sarah’s face twisted into pure panic.
“Oh my god. Shut your mouth. You some kind of pervert?” She fumed, quickly looking over her shoulder at a petrified Jodie, stood hugging herself and biting her nails.
“Nah, that’s Merle. But ya know that already, don’t ya?” He leaned close to her again, hearing her draw in a jagged breath. “Maybe next time he’s balls deep in ya, you should keep it down. Just a suggestion.”
Jess was impressed at his ability to render them both silent and reasonably terrified in seconds and she only wished she could do the same. His comment regarding Sarah’s badly executed lip fillers had almost made her bellow with laughter. But she exercised some restraint and watched on with dignity. Then came his graphic ridicule of her sexual activity with Merle in the woods. She hadn’t seen this side to him. Spiteful and savage and she had felt a twinge of discomfort at his brash and crude references. However, she struggled to find a reason why it wasn’t justified and decided that it all boiled down to the fact that Sarah shouldn’t be dishing it out if she couldn't take it.
It was some time before Daryl finally backed down after an intense stare off between then, but when he did, Sarah sat motionless and humiliated in her spot, her hands clasped in her lap and her jaw pulled tight.
“C’mon” Daryl said to Jess as he passed “let’s cook this shit up.”
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
I think I have a crush on him. I’m so pissed at myself. Why do I always like guys that wouldn’t look at me twice?! Who am I trying to kid? No one looks at me twice anyway. Suppose I’ll just have to window shop, as usual. The world ended. Only a few survived and my brain thinks it’s an appropriate time to develop a crush on someone. It seems it’s been noticed by the twisted sisters too. No doubt I’ll have to endure more mockery at their hands. Or maybe What Daryl said to Sarah will make her think twice in the future. I don’t know. It was kind of…hot. Watching him shut her up like that. I can only hope it’s stays with her and she leaves us alone. Us. That’s strange. Me. Leave me alone.
Sometimes, I feel like they’re how I’m supposed to be. Maybe if I were more like them, things would be easier. Are they roses and I’m just a Dandelion? Roses may have thorns but if you breathe in instead of out at a Dandelion, it’ll choke you.
Choosing to sit with Rick and Carl after everyone had eaten, Jess jotted down words in her journal, tilting it to avoid Carl’s curious gaze. After weeks at the camp, Jess concluded that the cop next to her and his young son were actually quite nice company and decent conversation in the late evening hours when the sun would set and she’d start to look forward to retreating to the top of the RV with someone who had become her favorite individual to be around. Daryl.
Glenn and T-dog sat on the other side of Jess, with Andrea beside them, Dale on the RV and Merle next to Daryl, who was positioned square in her sightline when she looked up. He carved bolts and sharpened his hunting knife while Carl, Rick and Jess conversed quietly between themselves.
Merle nudged his brothers arm and Daryl’s hands stilled, his knife poised and still over a rock in case he sliced his hand off as a result of Merle’s careless action.
“Hey, Darlina. What ya say we head into the city at some point? Pick us up a little whiskey for these cold nights.”
“City’s full of walkers. Ain’t worth it.” Daryl replied with a shake of his head.
“Ahh, don’t be no sissy! Be in and out faster’n a bat outta hell.” Merle reasoned.
It was the worst idea Daryl had heard in a long time. In fact, the last bad idea he’d heard had also come from Merle and all the bad ideas before that. A pattern had formed and Daryl was no longer interested in being involved in any of his big brothers hairbrained and dangerous schemes.
“Yeah, maybe.” He mumbled in an attempt to quieten him.
Rick, who had overheard what was said, lifted his head from watching his son sitting on the floor next to Jess.
“It’s wise to keep a clear head right now. you both know Walkers are working their way up the mountains” He offered.
Merle stood up. A lit cigarette hung from his lips, the ash from the end flittering down from the orange end like confetti.
“Yo, Sherriff good boy? This don’t concern you” Merle snapped with a point of his finger. In a second, he was gone, vanished into the approaching darkness and not a single soul sat around the fire cared where.
Rick sighed and looked sideways at Jess, who was offering him a sympathetic smile as she turned a page in her journal and carried on scribbling.
“What are you writing?” He asked.
“Nothing exciting. Haikus.” She muttered. Making a mistake on the page, she scribbled it out, her tongue emerging from the corner of her mouth in concentration.
“Haikus” Rick repeated.
“Dad, a Haiku is a short, Japanese poem that has a 5-7-5 syllable rule.” Carl interrupted. Rick was more than aware of what a Haiku was, but decided to humor his son anyway and presented his best, faked surprised look.
“Yeah, that’s right.” Jess grinned at Carl.
“I see. Can we hear one?” Rick asked.
Jess never shared any of the fruits of her labor when she was writing, always finding it too personal and revealing to read out to anyone, let alone people she hadn’t known all that long. She was no Haiku expert, nor was she all that into them, but the short, direct nature of them was both an appealing hurdle for her to overcome and something that keep her mind sharp.
“Oh, I don’t know…” She mused.
“Yeah! Please?” Carl begged, shifting around so he could peer at her with inquisitive eyes.
Daryl looked up from across the fire and paused his task. He slid his knife back into its holster and leaned against the wooden box behind him, bending one leg and draping an arm over it.
“Uh… OK. sure.” Jess reluctantly agreed. She cleared her throat and tried to speak without her voice shaking. Suddenly feeling like she was stood up at the front of class at high school with a room full of judgement staring right back at her. But she wasn’t at high school, this was different and the young boy on tenterhooks in front of her was so enthusiastic, she felt too bad to decline.
“I stand taller to
Overcome the shadows
Of those who doubt me.”
Her cheeks reddened and she stared at her handwriting on the page, noticing one letter ‘a’ that wasn’t quite joined up enough. The silence around her was deafening.
“That’s… personal.” Rick remarked “but good. I mean, I don’t know what I’m talking about but-”
“-it is good. I think it’s good.” Carl affirms. “You should write more of those.”
His encouragement was endearing and she could only hope that his happy demeanor would continue, despite their dire situation.
“Thanks.” She muttered bashfully as she drew a star in the corner of the page.
“Should write a Haiku for everyone.” Glenn suggested from her other side. “Merle’s would be interesting, that’s for sure”
He was right. What could she say about Merle? With an out of the blue surge of confidence, she wrote down what was in her head, smirking at the words on the page and giving Glenn a quick wink. Before sharing her Haiku, she checked that Merle was well out of earshot or she would have some serious explaining to do.
“Bug zapper becomes
Merle’s entertainment after
TV repossessed.”
Nervous giggles filtered through the group around the fire as most of them also checked over their shoulders to make sure Merle wasn’t present. Jess scanned the laughing faces to see Daryl dip his head and smile into his lap. A rush of pride and self-satisfaction surged through her at the thought that she’d managed to make at least five people laugh, including the brother of the man she was making fun of and the person she had developed a crush on.
As the chuckling subsided, Daryl tilted his head back and rested a cigarette between his lips. Lighting it, his eyes never left hers and she began to wonder what he was doing and how strange it must have looked to everyone else. Luckily, no one was paying them any mind. Crickets chirped in the surrounding long grass in the tree line and the chilled, nightly breeze arrived, Andrea pulled her jacket closer around her and shivered.
“Bout me?” Daryl rasped.
The group fell silent, all exchanging intrigued glances. Jess stifled a huge grin, knowing it was quite something for him to pipe up in a social situation like this and put himself in the spotlight.
“OK.” She giggled “Daryl…. Lets see.” She began to write on the page again as the others grinned and waited for the most anticipated Haiku of what had become the nights entertainment. When Jess was ready, she flashed him a wide, perfectly white smile and the brightness and life in her eyes seemed to hit him like a lightning bolt.
“Daryl. Person who
Lacks class but enjoys a life
Without rich folks rules”
Rick couldn’t help but snort with laughter along with Carl. Jess joined them and had to build up the bravery to look back at Daryl. When she did, she saw him pick up a smell pebble and throw it at her. It bounced off her sneaker and skittered across the dirt. But his smile was missed with a blink, wanting to hide how amused he really was from those around him.
“Dunno whatcha talkin’ ‘bout. I got class”, He muttered.
“I have more class in my little finger” Andrea commented.
Instead of acknowledging Andrea, he continued to focus on the Haiku writing girl in the vintage Batgirl T-shirt that was able to make him feel more like himself than he ever did before. She was self-aware, able to make fun of herself, different and smart and she was as much of a mystery to him as he was to her. Neither one of them had experienced such an unconventional friendship with a person that under normal circumstances, they never would have crossed paths with anyway. But as she watched him with her unassuming, innocent and dark features, it dawned on him. Something he never thought about anyone. Ever. She was pretty.
For the first time in as far back as he could remember, he’d had a decent and enjoyable day. Not only was he able to do what he loved most and did most days, he was able to share it with someone that genuinely wanted to learn something from him and respected his ways of doing things. She wasn’t Merle, inpatient and arrogant. She was receptive, fascinated and soaked up information quicker than he’d expected. He was looking forward to sitting with her on the RV after dark.
Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5
#daryl dixon#daryl fanfiction#daryl x oc#twd fanfiction#twd#daryl dixion imagine#twd daryl#the walking dead daryl
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Thanks for the tag, @theamiableanachronism! I really enjoyed this one!
rules: choose any 3 fandoms (in random order) and answer the questions. then tag some friends.
i choose:
• Batfam
• Scarlet Heart Ryeo
• The Walking Dead
the first character you loved:
• Bruce Wayne and Alfred. My first real intro to the Batfam and DC was Batman Begins, and I thought Bruce Wayne was the coolest, bravest guy ever. And Alfred was THE BEST. Kind, fatherly/grandfatherly, loyal, sarcasm lord
• Wang So. Obviously. Even before I had actually seen a single episode, because I heard he had a tragic story, and he was also as beautiful as an angel. A dark, wounded angel, but an angel none the less. When he stormed onto the scene and revealed himself to totally be a murder angst cupcake, as advertised, well, I was bewitched
• Dear sweet Glenn, who sasses the heck out of Rick while saving his butt. Yeah, Glenn, the pizza delivery boy who was the bravest, most unselfish of them all. Who became one of the most trusted leaders. He could have turned and left Rick to die, no one would have known or cared, but he didn’t. He helped out a stranger, and saved a heck ton of other people by that simple act.
the character you never expected to love so much:
• All the Robins, honestly. Look, when I watched the Dark Knight trilogy, all I knew about Robin was from a clip or two I had seen of the old campy Batman show, and I kind of was glad a legit Robin never showed up in the films just because I thought it would be ridiculous. I was SO wrong. I had no idea. I had no idea what dark, tragic, beautiful, light, funny, DEEP stories surrounded the MANY kids who would take up the Robin mantle
• Eun, I guess. I never hated him, but since he was always rather immature, it was easy to laugh at him and make fun of the things he did. Then things happened, and while he remained naive in many ways, it was rather sweet and sad at the same time. My dorky son deserved better
•Daryl Dixon. Starts out seeming like a rough, angry, slightly racist redneck whose one redeeming quality is his concern for his even more messed up brother. And then I realized how much of a softy he was underneath everything, how much he cared about Sophia, and how it destroyed him what happened to her. I saw him connect with Carol, and befriend Rick and Glenn, and become Rick’s brother essentially, and be softened by Beth. And as the seasons go on he becomes more badass, more caring, more indispensible to the group, and he loses the undesirable traits he picked up from his childhood. We find out what his childhood was. Daryl with Glenn is Rick’s right-hand man, and HE JUST CARES SO MUCH ABOUT EVERYTHING DON’T EVEN TRY TO DENY IT MAN
*I’m gonna cheat and add another person for TWD: Carl. In the first season or two he is a little kid, kind of annoying at times, but boy does he grow up and mature. It’s a terrible tragedy what he goes through, the things he sees and has to do that no kid should ever have to. But he is so freaking strong, and he respects his dad so much, and I love his friendship with Michonne. I love his concern for his little sister. I love how he shoulders responsibility, how he does what he thinks is necessary, how he worries sometimes that he is becoming a monster too. I FREAKING LOVE HOW HE WILL nOT PUT UP WITH NEGAN HE HAS NO EFFS TO GIVE FOR THE GUY HE IS TOO MAD AND HAS SEEN TOO MUCH
the character you relate to the most:
• Well, I can relate to Jason’s love for books, to Tim’s often more quiet and reserved nature. However, I definitely relate to Dick Grayson the most. He is more outgoing than me, more outspoken, but he has such great love for his friends and family. The care for his little brothers (in canon and fanon) is something that particularly calls my attention. You see, besides two older siblings, I have four younger brothers, and I have helped raise them, I have fought against them, fought with them, fought for them, laughed with them, and busted with pride over their accomplishments. I have been the person who tried to organize them, to tease them, to keep the peace, to enforce the peace. And maybe I am projecting but I just really see a lot of myself in Nightwing. The man who hopes, the man who tries to bring light to the darkest of places, the man others trust to help them when they fall. (I also just hold him in the deepest admiration and its a thing, I try to be a better and braver person so that if he were real I would be worthy of his friendship and respect...)
• A little bit Hae Soo, because I also would get increasingly frustrated by the culture at the time. We also share a deep love with Wang So :) Seriously though...maybe Baek Ah? Because he is the quiet and introspective type, he suffers quietly, he listens and hears things and tries to help those who need it, he tries to bring the outcast brother back into the family. He is a healer of sorts, a healer of the heart, and he loves little kids and everything beautiful. He sees things.
• Maybe this is me projecting again but Glenn? Kinda small and nerdy, scared of a lot of things, but bravely keeps on trucking. And slowly rises to being one of the most integral parts of the group. A man who has strong morals and isn’t afraid to punch an ex-military man twice his size if that man gets between him and the people he loves
the character you’d slap:
• I’d say the Joker but honestly he deserves something more like a bullet to the head. I would totally slap a lot of the writers who don’t know what character development means, and I would slap at least half the Batfam because sometimes they just don’t know how to communicate feelings properly. And they frequently hurt each other even without meaning to. After all of this, however, I would pull them all in for individual hugs. Oh, I will also totally slap anyone who ever so much as tries to give Dick Grayson grief about the awful things that happened in the Blockbuster and Tarantula incident
• Wook. UGH. Also his sister and Queen Yoo. The king, whatshisface. Taejo? also the little creep Won. I would slap Yo but I would be afraid to mess up his eyeliner, which is on point at all times and is too wonderful to destroy
• Andrea. I am so sorry but I could not stand that woman ever. I rarely actively dislike a fictional person, and I apologize to fans of the comics, I realize that the show screwed over her character, but I despise Andrea with everything I’ve got. Mostly because she runs around proclaiming how much better she is than everyone while at the same time making colossal mistakes. And honestly her end was ridiculous. If Glenn can take out a walker while beaten up and duct-taped to a chair, you can figure out how to pick up pliers with your feet
three favourite characters (in order of preference):
• Dick Grayson is the love of my life, and then I guess Bruce, Jason, Tim, and Damian are tied for second place, and then directly behind them are Barbara, Cass, and Steph (I need to read more comics and fics about them, and I am sure they will advance to make the second tier even more crowded). Alfred is in a special category all on his own
• Wang So (love of my life), Bae(k) Ah, and I guess a tie with Hae Soo, Jung, Woo Hee, and Lady Oh
• Glenn is first in my heart now and forever, and Carl, Daryl, Carol, Michonne, Maggie, and Rick all hold second place. I like a lot of the other characters, but I’m going to give third place to Tara, and she doesn’t have to share with anyone. She is just that cool (also awkward and adorkable)
a character you liked at first but not anymore:
• I love every single member of the Batfam to with all my heart. (The ones I am familiar with, don’t know much about Duke and Harper yet.) To go beyond, to characters in the universe, well I won’t say I ever liked the Joker but I thought he was a really great bad guy, Batman’s ultimate foe, someone who should always be around throwing wrenches into things and whatnot. This was after I had seen him in the The Dark Knight. Then I started actually reading comics related things and HE KILLED JASON TODD. MY SON. NOW I DON’T CARE I WANT THE JOKER DEAD I WANT HIM DESTROYED, OBLITERATED, AND NEVER LOOKED BACK ON.
• Wook. I thought he was occasionally sweet, if not exactly the strongest of persons. And then I met his wife, who deserved SO MUCH BETTER. And then Wook revealed himself to be a jealous little eggshell
• SHANE. He’s kind of like The Walking Dead’s version of Scarlet Heart Ryeo’s Wook. Originally a decent guy, a good friend, but when things go south, he gets selfish and self-centered and bad things happen.
a character you did not like at first but now do:
• No one really? I think? Unless you want to bring the show Gotham into this picture...which I don’t, because that would also make me want to write a book about my love for it and certain of its characters
• can’t think of anyone this applies to
• Hmm, I guess Herschel? He was kind of annoying with his whole “let’s round up walkers and take care of them in my barn.” Then tragedy and a near death experience and eventually he winds up being the cool old grandpa
3 otp’s (in order of preference):
• I actually don’t have a strong preference as of yet...I kind of like BatCat, Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle. I haven’t experienced much media with either pairing yet so I have read and enjoyed both DickBabs (I still say it should be Dabs) and DickKori. Ooh I like Tim/Steph (is there a ship name for that?). I ship Jason with happiness. Actually I ship the whole Batfam with happiness and peace and a good night’s sleep. I don’t ship Damian with anyone because he is just a bby birb :)
• SoSoo, Baek Ah x Woo Hee, Eun and Soon Duk (Deok?). Also, So x Happiness/Peace/A Living Family Who Loves Him
• GLENN AND MAGGIE FOREVER. TO INFINITY AND BEYOND. Richonne is great and I definitely like Caryl. (I shipped Bethyl just a little, once upon a dream.)
this was fun :) if any of y’all want to do this @itspileofgoodthings @thelonelybrilliance @nalavistahlia @blackaquokat @castieltaking-hobbits2gallifrey @camsthisky @abadpoetwithdreams @tabbyofwisdom
...I feel like there are other people I want to tag but it is way late (early) and my brain is dead forgive me if I left you out and please consider yourself tagged!
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Don't Blame Me|| Dixon D.
Don't Blame Me|| Dixon, D.
https://ift.tt/6tcaCx9
by XOastorybynatxoxo
"For you, I would cross the line
I would waste my time
I would lose my mind
They say, "She's gone too far this time"
Don't blame me, love made me crazy
If it doesn't, you ain't doin' it right"
- Don't Blame Me, Taylor Swift
OR IN WHICH
The Winchester Sister is away from her brothers during the apocalypse and fights to get back to them.
Winchester Sister x Daryl Dixon
Words: 10026, Chapters: 4/?, Language: English
Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005), The Walking Dead (TV)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Categories: F/M
Characters: Original Winchester Character(s), Daryl Dixon, Rick Grimes, Lori Grimes, Shane Walsh, Sophia Peletier, Carol Peletier, Glenn Rhee, Maggie Greene, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Beth Greene (Walking Dead), Original Male Character(s), Connie (Walking Dead)
Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Original Female Character(s), Lori Grimes/Rick Grimes, Rick Grimes/Michonne, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence
via AO3 works tagged 'Castiel/Dean Winchester' https://ift.tt/KcD5RGX
October 05, 2023 at 08:47AM
#IFTTT#AO3 works tagged 'Castiel/Dean Winchester'#Destiel#ao3feed#ao3feed Destiel#Destiel fanfic#Dean Winchester/Castiel#Castiel/Dean Winchester#Dean x Castiel#Castiel x Dean
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A Plague of Sleet and Rot (ASoIaF x The Walking Dead fanfic)
BOOK 2 - A Road of Snow and Grime
Chapter 18: A Traitor's Life
Masterlist
Relationships: Daryl Dixon x Carol, Rick Grimes x Lori Grimes, Carl Grimes & Sophia, Jon x Andrea, Jon x Beth Greene
Summary: A month has passed since Jon Snow awakened on a highway outside of Atlanta and joined Rick Grimes and his fellow survivors. His memories of his death have returned and our alien world is beginning to make a bit of sense. Ever since the loss of the CDC, surviving in the apocalypse has been a daily struggle. The group is on thin ice. Supplies are dwindling. Hope is fading. The dead are walking. And their only chance for life may be a run-down farm, an old man and his daughters.
Chapter Summary: Jon grapples with his decision and Bowen learns a secret.
Time Frame: Farm Arc - Original Variation
Featured Characters: Jon Snow, Bowen Marsh, Ghost, Mormont's Raven, Rick Grimes, Carl Grimes, Lori Grimes, Daryl Dixon, Carol, Sophia, Dale, Glenn Rhee, Andrea, T-Dog, Edwin Jenner, Shane Walsh, Beth Greene, Maggie Greene, Hershel Greene, Randall Culver,
Warnings: gore, vivid descriptions of dead bodies, child mutilation, graphic violence, death, murder, active combat, descriptions of armed warfare
[Art above is a piece by Art.of.Azrael. You can support them here: https://linktr.ee/Art.of.Azrael ]
Any notes are appreciated!
Jon
It’ll do, I suppose. Jon ran his hand over the tree’s coarse, brown bark. It loomed tall. A hundred branches fanned in every direction. Roots as thick as a man’s arm snaked through a bed of hard, cracked earth. Tall, old and grand – just like a weirwood. Not that it’s like to matter. They won’t hear me and neither will he. Especially not him.
Jon knelt before the grand, old oak tree. One oak of many – of hundreds just like it. Its brothers and sisters formed the forest’s tree line. They gave the old tree a wide birth. As did the bushes and the shrubs and the grass. A grand giant out of place amongst its humble peers. Its leaves were green, not red. Some did have five fingers but, others had six and some had seven. None were shaped like hands. Its bark was brown and coarse, not white and smooth. But it was tall and old. Tall and old is the best I’m like to get.
Ghost watched the tree. His red eyes followed the canopy of fanned branches as they swayed in the muggy, summer breeze. Bloodbeak watched Jon. His scarred eye stared into his, unblinking. Jon had never seen the damnable eye blink. Not once.
Jon drew his dagger and got to carving the face. The brown, course bark parted without complaint. The wood it shielded surrendered to the will of his dagger’s point. Ghost watched him work, head cocked, eyes wide. His ear twitched with every scrape.
“You’re meant to be watching the woods, not me.”
Ghost cocked his head to the other side.
“Oh, very well then – just keep still, boy. Let’s see if I can’t make it look like you. You’re as close as I’m like to find here.”
Bloodbeak perched among the highest, thinnest branches. All at once the breeze vanished. The red morning light danced upon his sleek, black feathers and warmed the pale, exposed flesh of his scarred, unblinking eye. For once the raven said nothing at all.
Two slim ovals for the eyes, a lengthy triangle for the nose and an upside-down arch for the mouth. A child’s drawing stared back at him. Even Arya could have done better than this. Weirwoods looked grim and mighty and wise. The old oak looked like a sad lackwit.
Jon sheathed his dagger.
If it’s not to your liking, you can complain to someone who bloody cares. I’m not here to talk to you lot, anyways.
Jon closed his eyes and bowed his head. Most like, I speak to no one but myself. I’ve felt the cold embrace. I’ve seen what lies on the other side. But… in the small chance that I’m wrong or mistaken or saw a falsehood, I hope my words find you well, Father.
A muggy, morning wind whistled across the fields.
What I’ve done – or rather what I did not do – was it right? Did I serve my duty or did I serve myself? Marsh has turned cloak once. Who’s to say he won’t do so again? When things are hard. When things look hopeless. When it suits his benefit. He was a coward; is a coward. Not a man suited to times like this. He buries his head in the snow. He cowers before truth; before hard truths. A man like him cannot adapt to his circumstances. He is a drowning man; like to drag others down with him. Voices whisper these doubts to me, small voices but sharp too. Like needles, they prick me.
Yet, despite their incessant pricking, I know it in my heart of hearts that Marsh wasn’t mine to kill. Not anymore. Not after my brothers gave me justice. If I had killed him again, there would be no justice in it. What is a second justice if not a murder? I could not kill him. He wasn’t mine to kill. He wasn’t. I pray you agree, Father. These sorts of things; questions of life and death, of right and wrong – you always knew the answers. I pray that your blood has granted me the sight to see. If you were here, you would have scolded me just now. No doubt. Mayhaps, you are scolding me right now for what I do not say, for those I do not address, but… you did not know the old gods like I did, Father. If you had, you would have no words for them either.
Jon lifted his head. Sap wept from the corners of the old oak’s eyes. Amber rivers ran down its brown, course face. Ghost stared at the amber tears. Bloodbeak stared at Jon and said nothing at all. Not even a mutter. Jon clenched his jaw. It’s not Father. He stood. It’s them.
Your power extends beyond the weirwoods. So be it. That does not make me your pawn. Fuck off to your dead world.
He turned his back on the old oak and headed back to camp. The wall loomed high. The sun shone red. The muggy air reeked of rot.
Bowen
Bowen pulled at the t-shirt’s collar. Too tight. The shirt managed to squeeze him all over; especially his belly. And mismatched to boot. Fashion meant as little as swords but, it would serve to possess as few reasons to be disliked as possible. He had enough as it was. The icy stares and venomous glares – they all must surely be privy to his greatest sin. It was less than he deserved but even so, Jon Snow had granted him a second life. Best to make it one worth living. For however long this dying world allowed him. What sort of life was lived stooped in hatred and ill will? A traitor’s life. His blacks and leathers might have offered a solution to his appearance problem but, dying of heat didn’t seem like the proper way to honour Jon’s mercy either.
At the very least, the shirt and half-leg trousers were thin and allowed the breeze – as muggy as it was – to come and go as it pleased. Never did Bowen think he’d ever feel such heat again. Even after months of living in it, he found himself bewildered when his sweat didn’t freeze on his forehead. If, only for a moment. I must remember to thank… seven hells what is his name? The one who gave me the clothes. With hair white as snow and a beard to match.
Lump lay in the corner of the tent. Will she help matters? The greatsword was near as large as he was. On a swordsman, she’d inspire trust and reliability. On him, she’d inspire mockery.
The tent flap flew open. Chris’s freckled face appeared. “They’re serving breakfast. You coming?”
“Aye.” Bowen considered Lump.
Chris pushed up his glasses. “Hurry, I’m hungry.”
“Hold on.” Bowen retrieved his dagger from the safety of its shelter beneath his cloak and slid it into its scabbard. Lump remained behind as he crawled from the tent. He shielded his eyes from the glare of the red, morning sun. “A bad omen,” he muttered.
“It’s just the sun. Sometimes it’s red. Sometimes it’s orange.”
“A red sky in the morning is a warning from the Crone, lad – of ill luck and hardships to come.”
“Right.” Chris rolled his eyes.
The boy’s youthful arrogance kept him from his faith. To not worship the seven – gods of a distant world – was one thing but, Chris believed himself above even his own world’s god. A god called God. Regardless of his uninspired name, to abandon a higher power was a fool’s errand. A man needs such power to keep him humble lest he wander too far from the trail of righteousness. As I once did. Chris, however, had not felt true power. He had not felt the Stranger’s cold embrace between worlds or the Mother’s kiss upon rebirth. He knew only what this world had taught him, and this world did not teach much of faith. In time, as he matured and this world healed, he would see true as all men should. He has too. It has too.
Bodies swamped a table made of… plastic. More bloody plastic. Plastic pavilions, plastic cups, plastic cutlery. Plastic this and plastic that. Is nothing in this world crafted by the hands of men? Only the food, it seemed. Well, by the hands of women. Real women. Not girls or savages. Real honest to gods women. As he and Chris claimed two free plastic stools, one of them plopped two bowls in front of them and then her arse on the stool beside him. Her smile almost made him forget about the incessant smell of rot that loitered all around.
“Bowen, right? And you’re Chris? Sorry for not finding a chance for proper introductions yesterday. My name’s Lori – Rick’s wife and Carl’s mother. The boy with the hat.” She offered her hand.
Bowen shook it. “Don’t apologise. It’s quite alright. We all had a lot on our minds last night.”
“Hello,” Chris mumbled before shovelling oats into his mouth.
“You’ll have to excuse him. I’m afraid, we haven’t had a proper meal in quite a while.”
Lori waved him off. “Oh, he’s fine. Boys – they never change.”
“This fine work must be your doing, aye?” Bowen gestured to the porridge with his plastic spoon. Every bowl around the table was filled halfway. They live surrounded by fields yet, they ration their food. Caution or necessity?
“Canned porridge. My speciality.”
It tasted of nothing and felt closer to bile upon his tongue than oats yet, a woman’s hands wielded a certain sort of magic. Bowen swallowed his heaping spoonful and pointed the spoon around the table. “I’m afraid I haven’t had to chance to learn names.”
Lori smiled and gestured across the table at a woman with short hair. “That’s Carol. The boy beside her ignoring his food is my son, Carl.” The lad had a chipper look about him. A good sign. Carol’s hair disconcerted him. Short, like a man’s. A strange custom for a strange land, or madness?
Beside the lad, a young lady with hair of gold tied taught shot him a withering look. “That’s Andrea. Ignore the scowl. She scowls more often than not nowadays.”
“Aye.” The scowl did not falter even as Bowen held eye contact. She is privy to my sin. Mayhaps they all are. Lori’s easy smile remained without a twitch or quiver.
A white-haired, wrinkled man sat at the end of the table. Two women sat on either side of him. They shared the same round faces and fair complexion. “That’s Hershel, the farm’s owner, and his daughters, Beth and Maggie. Beth is blonde. Maggie is brunette.”
“Ah yes, we’ve met. It’s thanks to him I have fresh clothes. I’ve been meaning to give him my thanks.”
“I’ll let him know you’re grateful.”
“Thank you.” Bowen nodded. “So, he opened up his home to you?”
“Yeah… he’s a kind man, helpin’ strangers like that. Is Chris your son?”
Chris choked on his porridge.
Bowen slapped him on the back. “I’m afraid not.”
Lori nodded and gestured to a savage-looking man whittling arrows at the table. Unkempt, tangled hair hung over sharp, rugged features. He looked half a wildling. “That’s Daryl. Best not to ignore his scowls. We picked him up some time ago, him and his brother. Found them wanderin’ the woods and gave them a place to lay their heads. Never been the friendliest folks but he’s been with us ever since.”
“And where is this brother?”
“Gone. Is your story a similar one with Tyreese?”
Good. “Did he find me? Aye. Helped me get my bearings after I, uh… after I-”
“Arrived? After you died?”
“Jon has spoken of our home?”
“He has.”
And of more, I wager. “And you believe him?”
“I’ve believed stranger things. You’ve been with them since the start then?”
“Aye, or since my start. I arrived a month or so after the dead began to walk to hear it told.”
“It must have been hard, surviving in such a small group.”
“Our numbers were a hindrance, aye. Tyreese doesn’t trust easily. No matter how many times I told him there was safety in numbers, he’d never listen.”
“He left people to die,” Chris muttered. “Good people.”
“But not you?”
“No, not me,” Bowen said.
“Really? But, you’re strangers, right? People who knew nothing about one another.”
Bowen winced. “No… Nothing at all.”
Lori gave him a shining look. “I see.”
Lori spent the next few minutes detailing the other members of the group from the dark-skinned man, Theodore, who they called to T-Dog to the brooding, once-leader, Shane. When all was said, they seemed decent people; most held to their God and most had a role to play. Even if they were essentially mere small-folk, Bowen could see the beginnings of something great around him. The Culvers could cause issues left unchecked but their leader had a strong look about him. Surely such a man could keep a fat fool and a few squalling children in line.
Lori left to attend to her motherly duties and Chris wasted no time grumbling. “He wouldn’t let me see her last night…”
“Give him time. She’s his daughter.”
“She’s my girlfriend. We were together for four months before the world fell apart. Four months. She loves me and she’d want me by her side.”
Poor lovesick fool. “Aye, I know, lad.”
“Snow!” The old bear’s raven fluttered onto the table. “Snow! Snow!” Death had had no effect on the creature’s lungs it seemed.
He approached the table flanked by his direwolf, bundled in his blacks and mail – a spectre of the past. Smiles and warm words greeted him as he sat, and a bowl found its way before him almost at once. The lad with the hat, Carl, broke away from his mother and rushed to his side. Jon Snow pushed the hat down over the lad’s eyes and whispered something that got the lad giggling. Not once did his eyes venture Bowen’s way. Plenty of others did though. Andrea and the doctor, Jenner glanced his way. Andrea’s scowl festered and a perplexed smile crossed Jenner’s lips. Were they privy to last night? Bowen felt sick. Had he been granted mercy only to have it dashed by a stranger? The whole camp could want him dead, Daryl, Andrea and even Lori for all he knew. It’s less than I deserve. Bowen’s hands trembled. It’s less than I deserve.
“Sorry to keep y’all waitin’.” However many pairs of eyes sent glares his way, but none remained to accuse him as the table’s undivided attention drew towards a tall man with a salt-and-pepper beard. He sat beside Lori at the opposite end of the table to Hershel.
“Come to make excuses, Rick?” Shane asked.
“If by excuses you mean answers, then yeah, I have.” Rick spoke the way you might to a lackwit child – slow and soft. Shane scowled and crossed his arms. Rick cast a smile upon the table of staring eyes. “Hershel, would you mind startin’ us off?”
“Of course.” Hershel got to his feet. The eyes shifted to the end of the table opposing Rick. “I’ve never been one for keepin’ secrets. How can we love our neighbours if we don’t trust ‘em? But, I kept a secret anyhow. Didn’t start off as a secret. Wasn’t ever intended to be a secret. However, a secret it became. So, to clear the air, let’s set things straight. We are out of basic medicine, that mean antib…” The kindly, old whitebeard spoke and spoke some more. Voices raised concerns and charges. But Bowen heard only noise. Out of medicine? They couldn’t be. Julie was safe. They’d said she was safe. How could she be safe without medicine, without the miracle treatments of this strange land?
“You said she was safe.” He must have spoken louder than he intended for a hushed silence swept across the table and every pair of eyes snapped to him. Even Jon’s, sad, sullen eyes. They were too much to bear.
“Safe! Safe! Safe!” cried the Old Bear’s raven.
“I did…” Hershel glanced at Rick. “And… well…”
“She is,” Rick said. “Or will be.”
“Liar!” Chris slammed his fist on the table. “You’re all liars! You said you’d help her! You said you could save her life!”
Bowen touched Chris’s back. “Calm yourself.” The rage deflated out of the boy. He held his head in his hands, tears brimming in his eyes. “What do you plan to do?” Bowen asked.
“There’s a town a short drive away from here full of all kinds of abandoned supplies. We’ll put together a small group and scavenge for medicine to replace what we’ve used up.” Rick smiled with his eyes as he spoke. “Julie’s going to be just fine, I swear it.”
“On your god?”
“On my God. On my wife. On my son.” Rick squeezed his wife’s hand and found his son’s eyes across the table.
“Fuck that. The little bitch is a goner.” May Culver sported a grin as Chris shot to his feet.
“Shut up! No, she isn’t!”
“Yes. She is. Y’all blind? She ain’t got a fuckin’ hand no more. Don’t get me wrong, her kind can take a lot of hell and all but, not that much.”
“SHUT UP!”
“Or what, little man?” James snapped.
“I- I’ll-”
“You’ll sit down, lad,” Bowen said.
“But-”
“Listen to the man, boy,” Sam spoke a little above a whisper. Some leader.
Chris gritted his teeth and sat, fists clenched. As the pack of fools laughed among one another, Sam did nothing. Even as the whole table shot him glares. Even as the fools mocked Julie’s name right beside him. Instead, he stared at the table.
“Got somethin’ to add, Sam?” Rick asked.
“A scavenge… a scavenge won’t work.”
“Why the hell not?” Andrea snapped.
May laughed. “Cause the mall’s overrun, bitch.”
“So?”
“So…” Sam met her eyes. “That’s the only place you’re gonna find any medicine. Everything else’s been picked clean. By us and-”
“Strangers.” James spat.
Sam gave a grim nod. “Y’all ain’t the first to run through these parts. People have been coming and going for months, taking what they will.”
“And you took from them,” Jon said.
Sam didn’t meet Jon’s eyes.
“It’s a dog-eat-dog world, Snow,” May said. “Ain’t enough to around no more, case you ain’t noticed.”
“Damn straight,” James said.
“Ain’t enough,” Pete said.
The three fools looked to the quiet one, Randall. “Dog eat dog,” he muttered.
“It was our town, not theirs,” Sam muttered.
“That stops now,” Rick said. “We find strangers, we don’t rob them, we help them.”
“We gonna foster the whole world now?” May asked. “We’ll run out of room eventually.”
“Y’all could always kindly fuck off. That’ll make room,” Daryl said.
“Right back at ya, arrow boy.” May grinned.
Andrea shook her head and waved her hands. “Hold on. Screw the mall. What about your stash? Surely you’ve got medicine.”
“Get your own,” May snapped.
“We found it fair and square!” James said.
“Fair and square!” Pete said.
“Fair and square…” Randall said.
“That girl’s going to die, you fucking monsters!”
May sneered and shrugged.
“We can’t give you any,” Sam said.
Andrea got to her feet. “You can and you will.”
May shot to her feet. “Try it, bi-” Sam clouted her ear. She clutched it and fell back into her seat.
“I already gave it all to you.”
“Bullshit.”
“Damn, right bullshit!” James said. “I know you ain’t go much sense Pa but there ain’t no way you’re that fuckin’ stupid!”
Sam extinguished James’s fury with a look. “Watch your tone, boy.”
“Why?” Rick asked. “We agreed on a third.”
“Same reason we don’t have none now. Was hardly any to begin with and I ain’t about to let women and children get sick.”
“No,” Andrea said. “You’re lying. Rick, let me check their stash.”
Rick weighed her words.
“Have I lied to you so far?” Sam asked.
“You said you can control them.” Andrea gestured to the Culver. “Look how well that’s gone.”
“I am controllin’ them.”
Andrea scoffed.
Sam scowled. “I ain’t a fucking liar. Go check the fucking stash, you won’t find nothing.”
“But, Pa!”
Sam raised his hand. James gave him a desperate look but received only a glare for an answer.
Rick nodded. “Go on, take a look.”
Andrea hurried off towards the Culver’s camp.
Pete bristled. “I’m checkin’ once you’re done, girl! If I find even a crumb missin’, it’s your ass!”
“Shut up, Pete. You could do with a few less crumbs,” Sam said.
Pete huffed and folded his arms over his potbelly.
“Is this mall our only option?” Rick asked. “Are you sure?”
“There’s a hundred fucking towns just like this one. Don’t gotta only search here,” Daryl said.
“A shot in the dark,” Jon muttered.
“The kid’s right,” Sam said. “If our town’s been picked clean, so has every other town around here. The mall’s a guarantee. No shot anyone’s stupid enough to go in there. You can see the dead fuckers from the street shambling about like a wall of fucking rotting flesh.”
“No one ‘cept us,” Daryl said.
Jon thumbed his chin. “How did this mall, as you say, end up like that?”
“It was a gatherin’ place,” Beth said. Her voice was small and soft. She stared at the table. “The TV said to go there. Probably the whole town listened.”
“But not you?”
Beth shook her head.
“Never trust a talking head. That’s where it’ll get you,” Sam said. “The place is locked from the inside. Got a big ol’ chain wrapped around the handles. Some bastard must have done it as shit was hitting the fan.”
Glenn shifted in his seat. “It’s thanks to whoever did it that we’ve got less walkers to deal with.”
“Yeah? We can tell them that. Sure they’ll agree with you. Might even let us waltz right in for a little shopping spree.”
“Don’t talk to him like that,” Maggie snapped.
“We haven’t decided on anything yet,” Rick said. “Something like this – this is a decision we all need to make.”
A decision for them all to make? He couldn’t mean a vote. Whatever it was, it got nearly every head nodding around the table.
“Always with the fucking voting…” May muttered.
“A vote?” Bowen asked. “For this?”
“That’s how we do things around here.” Rick nodded to Carol.
The short-haired woman scurried off to the house. She returned with a bowl, scraps of paper and a pen.
“Y’all know how this works. The paper and pen will pass around. Right down a yes or a no. Of course, you don’t have to vote but it makes things easier if you do.”
As the bowl, paper and pens made their way around the table, Bowen couldn’t quite believe his eyes. It was as if there were choosing a Lord Commander all over again, and they all acted as if nothing were amiss. Only Jon gave the bowl a disconcerted look. Just as this world was beginning to make sense, it always felt the need to throw something new at him.
The bowl arrived in front of him and Chris. “Even us?” he asked.
“Of course. You’re a part of the group now. You get a vote.”
“Good.” Chris grabbed the pen and paper. “I won’t let you let her die.” He scribbled down yes.
Bowen did the same.
“I’m going,” Chris said before the bowl had moved even one more space down the table.
“That’ll be Glenn’s decision, son,” Rick said. “If we decide to go at all.”
“I’m going and so is Bowen.” Chris looked at him. “Right?”
An army of the dead. Killer corpses. Death incarnate. “I-” Bowen’s skin crawled. “Well-” Chris gave him a desperate look – a pleading, pitiful, desperate look. The scared look of a boy. Bowen swallowed. “I will.”
“I get you want to help your friend.” Glenn wrote down his answer. “But, no offence, I need people I can trust out there.”
An out. A perfect excuse. No one would bat an eye. Jon’s stare bore a hole through his head. “No. We’re coming.”
“We’re going whether it’s with you or on our own,” Chris says.
“Let them.” Jon wrote down his answer. “It’ll keep as many people familiar with the wall at the wall as possible.” Jon gave Bowen a commanding look. This was his chance. A chance to prove himself. Far more than he deserved.
“Let’s finish the vote before we decide anything,” Lori said. She handed the full bowl to Rick.
“Right.” Rick separated the votes into two piles. Nineteen votes for yes. Three for no. “We’re doing this, then… fine – Chris, Bowen you’ll go with Glenn.”
“And Tyreese,” Bowen said. “He wouldn’t forgive us if we left him behind.”
Rick nodded. “And Tyreese.”
“And me,” Jon said.
“I’ll go too,” Sam said.
“No,” Glenn piped up. “Hold on, no. I’ll bring the other three but not you two.”
“Why the hell not?” Sam asked.
“Aye, for what reason?”
“Okay heroes, first of all, you have three broken ribs. You’re only useful if you can swing a sword. And as for you, Sam. You’re better suited here, making sure things run smoothly.”
Jon grimaced and stared at the table. “Aye… okay.”
“Who then?” Sam asked.
“Apart from Bowen, Chris and Tyreese, I’m taking me, Daryl and Maggie.”
“Hold on now,” Hershel said.
“God, Dad. You can’t say no for me. I’m not a kid,” Maggie said.
“It’s too dangerous, and besides, you ain’t never done anything like it before.”
“I have to! How many times have I gone out huntin’? Huh?”
“And look how well that turned out,” Andrea said. She rejoined the table.
Maggie froze, caught between shock and outrage.
Andrea flashed Sam her scowl. “He’s telling the truth.”
“Always do,” Sam said.
“Hershel,” Glenn said. “I need someone with medical experience out there. Preferably someone with two working hands.”
Hershel flushed. “Then take Doctor Jenner.”
Maggie joined Glenn’s side. “Didn’t you hear him? He said he needs people he can trust out there and, I don’t know if you’ve been payin’ attention lately, I’m the person Glenn trusts most nowadays. That’s what love’ll do.”
Glenn flushed and Hershel kneaded his brown. Hershel has the right of it. Women are not made to face such horrors.
“Fine,” Hershel sighed.
Maggie smirked and kissed Glenn on the cheek. It would seem that Daryl isn’t the only one with a bit of wildling in them around here.
“Well then, that settles that. Best we get to work. The wall ain’t gonna build itself.” Rick stood. “Glenn-”
“Hold on, brother,” Shane stood. “You ain’t gettin’ away that easy.”
“Excuse me?”
“What right did you think you had to keep that a secret?”
“It wasn’t a secret.”
“Like hell it wasn’t.”
“It wasn’t. We only ran out yesterday. Glenn, Lori and I decided it’d be best to tell y’all after the workday so it wouldn’t weigh on your minds in the heat.”
“Yeah, man,” Glenn said. “We were gonna tell everyone.”
“It was never a secret,” Lori said.
“Call it what you will. It was a secret. You lied.”
Rick clenched his jaw. “Again, Shane, we were planning on telling everybody at the end of the day.”
“What’s all this we business, brother? You’re in charge ain’t ya? Every decision is your decision no matter how many people are involved. A leader needs to take charge of his decisions, not hide behind excuses all the damn time. He needs to be decisive.”
“Right… what’s your damn point, Shane?”
“My damn point is this, brother!” Shane looked right at Jon. “When I was leader, y’all would have known right away. Y’all would have known yesterday and y’all would have known two weeks ago. Two weeks. How often does Lori take a count, brother? Every few days. And not once did it ever occur to you to mention we were gonna run out of medicine?”
Voices raised as one to shout over one another.
“Shut the hell up, Shane!”
“When you were in charge?!”
“Look how that turned out!”
“Sit down!”
“Your time’s done!”
Jon’s fearsome glare spoke louder than any shouts. Rick looked about to burst but, a touch from Lori settled him.
Rick raised his hands for quiet. “Normally, I’d say we take a vote on it. But, after all that, it seems a bit redundant, huh?
Shane flashed the group a scowl. “Whatever.” He stormed away.
Jon
In front of the farmhouse, the scavenging party prepared to leave. Atop his motorbike, Daryl whittled arrows. In the pickup truck, Glenn and Maggie reviewed a map. And all Jon could do was stand idle as Bowen Marsh secured their supplies in the truck’s bed.
He was never much of a swordsman, Bowen Marsh. Could he count them? Could he organise them? Yes. But when it came to swinging one, the man may as well have taken a bread roll with him to battle for all the use he’d be. The greatsword made for quite a spectacle against his short, round figure.
Jon opened and closed his sword hand as the party made their preparations; as he stood idle and still. “No one would blame you. There’s no shame in it.”
Bowen secured a strap across the pickup truck’s bed. “And let him go on his own? Him? A scrawny boy? No.”
Chris sat in the rangerover, on the opposite side to Tyreese, two rows of seats apart.
“He has Tyreese.”
Bowen fiddled with the strap. A poor farce. His eyes gave him away.
“Glenn’s as sensible as they come and Daryl’s practically half-wolf. The lad’s in fine hands.”
“I’m going, Jon,” Bowen said barely above a whisper.
Jon crossed his arms. “I’m not your Lord Commander anymore. Far be it from me to tell a man where he may or may not go. But don’t go making a mockery of my mercy by getting yourself killed.”
“I… I won’t.” Bowen refused to meet his eyes.
“Good.” Jon tried to ignore Rick’s stare. He watched him like a hawk whenever he and Bowen were ever so much as in shouting distance of one another. “Do you know how to shoot?”
Bowen’s nose wrinkled. “Aye, I’ve more or less figured out the damnable things. It’s not something I can ever get used to. It’s like wielding a bloody lightning bolt. Unnatural it is. Bloody unnatural.”
“Aye, but useful.”
“I suppose…”
Bowen’s handgun looked like any other. They’d found it in a gutter, covered in grime, mud and blood. After Daryl almost lost his lunch when he fished it from the filth he’d refused to ever touch it again and yet, he’d made such a fuss when Rick gave it to Bowen.
“You want to give it to him?” The look Daryl shot Bowen could have curdled milk.
Glenn couldn't meet his eyes. “Yeah, man. If he’s coming with us, he needs one.”
Daryl spat. “Leave him in the car, then. Ain’t gonna be no use anyways, fat old bastard.”
“No. Everyone needs a partner out there – someone to cover their back. Without him, we’re an odd number.”
“Whatever… he ain’t my partner then. No way.”
“I’ll pair with Chris,” Bowen murmured.
And that was as much as Bowen had said about the situation. Death had done nothing for his cravenness it seemed. If anything, he was more meagre than how Jon had left him, if such a thing were possible.
Bowen gave the wall a bold look. “This was you’re doing?”
“My doing? No. Only my idea. The doing was everyone’s.” The rest of the group filled the air with a cacophony of noise; hacking branches, crashing hammers, whirring drills and a screaming chainsaw. All while he stood about idle, on his errand. Glenn wouldn’t let him swing a sword and Rick wouldn’t let him swing an axe. If they had their way, he’d spend most of his time scampering about, pretending to be useful.
Atop a tree trunk post, Sam paused the swinging of his hammer to shout a command at the lumber team.
“That man.” Bowen pointed. “What is his role?”
“First Builder, if you were to give it a title.”
“You say that as if he has no title.”
“He doesn’t.”
“No title?”
“None we use. He used to be a ‘site manager,’. I’ve come to understand they mean more or less the same thing.”
“Bizarre.”
“Aye. But, ignoring the strangeness, it’s proven useful. Those tools came from a building project he worked on before their world collapsed. Power tools they’re called. They’ve turned what should have been months of labour into mere weeks.”
“Should I even ask how they work?”
“Another time, mayhaps.”
Bowen smiled but, in the next breath, his meagerness returned. The smile shamed him. And so it should. To have shame as a constant companion was a lenient punishment.
“Your man…” Bowen’s voice hushed. “Rick, was it? Who was he before the collapse?”
“A sheriff. Some sort of law enforcer.”
“Who’s law? The king’s? Is a sheriff what they call a knight?”
“No. It’s something different. As far as I can gather, sheriffs hold no legal privileges. They swear no vows. Nothing like a knight. Closer to a gold cloak, in a sense.”
“I see… but he still wielded some power, aye? Even if he is of low birth?”
“Some. How much, I haven't been able to put together.”
“As much as… as much as you did, do you think?”
The question might have been bold if hadn’t been whispered and murmured. “You doubt him?”
“I don’t feel any way about him. I don’t know him. Do you trust him above yourself?”
“He makes them feel safe. Safety, even if it’s an illusion, is what they need right now.”
“But real safety? What of that?”
“You need only look ahead of you to see real safety.”
Bowen looked at the wall as he fidgeted with his hands. “Would that wall be there without you?”
“No, Marsh. It wouldn’t.”
“And… if a similar project were required and… and he hadn’t the strength to-”
“I’d ensure it saw completion.”
Bowen nodded. “Good. Good…” He stared at his feet. His hands trembled. “But… why risk it? What if he were to resist? Why not just-”
“Enough.”
“But, they respect you, aye? They’d follow-”
“I’m no power monger, Marsh. They chose him to keep them safe. They’re safe. That’s all there is to it.”
“Time to go!” Glenn shouted. “Bowen, you’ll ride with Chris and Tyreese in the rangerover!”
“Aye!” Bowen glanced Jon’s way. “I… before I go, again- I must say… thank you. For last night.”
“Speak nothing of it.”
“Aye, of course.”
“I mean it. Don’t ever speak of it to me again.”
Bowen stiffened. “Of course. Sorry.” He scurried off towards the rangerover.
“Bowen,” Jon called.
Halfway in the car, Bowen looked back at him. “Aye?”
“Don’t die.”
Bowen smiled. “Once was enough, I think.”
As they sped off down the road, kicking up rooster tails of gravel dust, Jon spied her glare. From across the farm, as she hacked branches from a fallen tree, Andrea looked as if she might kill him.
#fanfiction#fanfic#asoiaf#the walking dead#asoiaf fanfic#the walking dead fanfic#jon snow#rick grimes#ao3fic#ao3#jon snow fanfiction#rick grimes fanfiction#the night's watch#game of thrones#game of thrones fanfiction#horror#zombie#zombie apocalypse
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Fated: Season 8 Masterlist
Summary: Gloria Rhee narrowly escapes Atlanta with her brother as the outbreak reaches the city. Luckily, they find a camp outside the city and together, they fend through encounters with the living and undead.
Starts a little before Season 1 and then follows the main storyline of the show.
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Glenn Sister!OC
Warnings: major TWD spoilers, language, violence (the typical TWD stuff)
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
#Daryl Dixon#Daryl Dixon Fanfic#Daryl Dixon Fanfiction#Daryl Dixon Imagine#Daryl Dixon X OC#Daryl Dixon X Original Character#Daryl Dixon X Glenn Sister!OC#Daryl Dixon X Glenn Sister!Original Character#TWD#TWD Fanfic#TWD Fanfiction#TWD Imagine#The Walking Dead#The Walking Dead Fanfic#The Walking Dead Fanfiction#The Walking Dead Imagine#Glenn Rhee#Glenn Sister!Original Character#Glenn Sister!OC#Fated: Season 8
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Fated: Season 6
Summary: Gloria Rhee narrowly escapes Atlanta with her brother as the outbreak reaches the city. Luckily, they find a camp outside the city and together, they fend through encounters with the living and undead.
Starts a little before Season 1 and then follows the main storyline of the show.
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Glenn Sister!OC
Warnings: major TWD spoilers, language, violence (the typical TWD stuff)
A/N: Hi hi!! I hope you all had a wonderful weekend, regardless of whether you celebrate the holidays or not! ^^ Now that we’re back to Monday, you know what that means... a new chapter! This one, we’re finally back into the flow of the actual show :D Please let me know what you thought of this chapter, it’s actually of my favorite episode haha
Chapter 10
The sun’s rays peek through the curtains of Gloria and Daryl’s shared bedroom, disturbing her from her sleep as the rays of light hit her face. Gloria wiggles in their bed as she wakes up, blinking the sleep away from her eyes. She looks to the side and smiles lazily at Daryl who’s already awake laying next to her. He was always able to somehow wake up right before her.
“Mornin’ sunshine.” he greets her with a kiss to the forehead.
Gloria giggles then wraps her arms around his neck, "morning, sweetheart," she whispers as pulls him down for a kiss.
Daryl smiles into the kiss but then pulls back slightly, hovering over her with a smirk on his face, “Ya needy,” he pecks her lips teasingly, “last night wasn’ enough for ya?”
His words earn him a playful glare from her as she nips his bottom lip. Daryl chuckles at her before pressing his lips on hers again. He kisses her deeply, earning a soft moan from Gloria as she closes her eyes, enjoying the feeling of his soft lips on hers. She whines when he suddenly pulls away from her, getting up from the bed to get dressed.
“I should get ready for my run with Rick.” he says, his back was facing her but she could hear the smirk in his voice.
She throws a pillow at him, hitting him in the arm, “you tease.”
Gloria sits up on the bed and hugs a pillow to her chest as Daryl puts on his clothes. He turns around as he buckles up his pants and looks at her.
“Ya just gonna stay in bed all day an’ wait for me to come back?” he teases with a side smile.
Gloria rolls her eyes and scoffs, “you really think you’re that good?” She gets up as well, grabbing her clothes off the ground and getting dressed herself.
“Tha’s what ya were telling me las' night.” Daryl shoots back.
His words cause her face to blush a bright red as she remembers the previous night; she’d been extra affectionate with him after their little Korean lesson. She opens her mouth to retort but isn’t able to come up with anything. Instead, she huffs and leaves the room once she’s dressed. Daryl snickers at her reaction and follows her out, catching her in a hug from behind.
“Why ya gettin’ all shy when ya were so wild just a few hours ago?” he whispers in her ear.
She blushes even more and nudges him, “Stop.”
It was mornings like this that she loved. Even though Daryl was going out of his way to embarrass and tease her, it made her happy that he was this playful with her. It was especially rare that he was this bold and Gloria knew that he was this way only around her.
Daryl spins her around to face him and plants a gentle kiss on her forehead, “I love ya.”
Gloria giggles and wraps her arms around his neck, “I love you too.”
---
As planned, Rick and Daryl had left on their supply run. Gloria was the one handling the gate when they left, letting them out. She had to hold her laughter as Eugene gave them a list of things to look out for, using terminology she couldn’t even understand, but Daryl and Rick’s faces as they tried to comprehend him were just priceless. Around an hour after they had left, Spencer comes up to the gate with a shovel strapped to his back.
“Open the gate, please.” he says more as a request than a question.
“Are you going out there alone?” Gloria asks back, furrowing her brows.
“Yes, I am.” he tells her, matter-of-factly.
Gloria glances behind him, noticing the shovel and sighs. She understands what he wants to do, so without asking any more questions, she begins to open the gate. Her actions make Spencer frown in confusion, not expecting it to be this easy to have her let him out.
“You’re really going to let me go out there on my own without even asking me what I’m doing?” he asks.
“I already know what you want to do and even if I didn’t, there’s no way I can stop you. You’ve been sneaking out when whoever’s guarding the gates refuse to let you out anyway.” she tells him.
“Y-you noticed...” Spencer gawks at her, surprised.
“I’m not the only one,” she informs.
Gloria steps to the side of the open gate, giving him access to the outside. He nods to her and begins to walk outside.
“Hey, Spencer?” she calls out to him and he turns to look at her, “bring her back, she should be buried behind these walls, she belongs here.”
Spencer ponders her words, his lips pursed as he nods then continues on his way. Gloria closes and locks the gate behind him. When the herd had roamed the streets of Alexandria, Deanna had gotten bit while trying to get back to the safety of her home and Gloria had noticed none of the graves were marked by her name.
Shortly after, Michonne walks up to the gate equipped with her sword, “did you let Spencer outside?”
“You say that like he’s a dog,” Gloria chuckles, “but yeah, I did.”
“Did he say what he was going out for?” Michonne asks.
Gloria shakes her head, “no, but I know why he went out there. I know you know why too.”
Michonne sighs at this and nods, then she gestures to the gate, “I’m going after him.”
“You don’t think he can handle himself?” Gloria says, but she steps to open the gate anyway.
“I don’t think he should be out there by himself, if and when he finds her, he might not be able to put her down...” Michonne says, pursing her lips.
Gloria sighs and nods, “yeah... you be careful out there, too.”
Michonne smiles stiffly and nods before walking out of the gated community. Gloria shuts the gate and locks it after she’s out, only to open it again for her and Spencer a few hours later when they both return with Deanna’s corpse. Michonne stays with Gloria at the gates as Spencer carries his mother’s body towards the graveyard.
“Should we help him?” Gloria asks.
“No... I think this is something he wants to do on his own,” Michonne says with a sigh.
---
Gloria had made her way to Deanna’s grave to pay her respects for the woman after Eugene had relieved her of her shift. She stands in front of the grave and smiles softly as she sees that Spencer buried her right beside Reg.
“Thank you, for everything you’ve done for us, Deanna.” she says softly.
She hears footsteps approaching from behind her and she glances back to see Spencer coming to the grave with a bundle of flowers in his hand. He smiles softly at her and places the bundle right in front of the wooden cross.
“I don’t think I’ve said this yet... I’m sorry for what happened to her.” Gloria tells him.
Spencer smiles softly and nods, “I’m sorry about Gena as well,” he then looks at her with a sincere expression, “I wanted to thank you, Gloria.”
She raises her brow at him in confusion, “for what?”
“For telling me to bring her back here. I was just gonna find a spot out there and bury her somewhere outside these walls.” he admits.
“Deanna built this place with Reg, it would just be wrong to have them buried anywhere but here.” Gloria tells him.
“I don’t know why I didn’t think like that before, but you’re right,” he pauses then pulls Gloria into him for a hug, “thank you, for letting me realize that.”
The movement is quick and spontaneous so Gloria wasn’t able to react as he hugs her tight.
“Thank you...” he whispers, emotion thick in his voice.
Gloria lets out a small sigh and pats his back gently. She wasn’t very comfortable with hugging him since she barely knew him, but she wasn’t going to push him away either, he had just lost his mother.
She had gotten out of it as she told Spencer that she needed to check up on something at the infirmary so that he would let her go. That was where she found out from Denise that Rick and Daryl had brought a man back but he was unconscious.
“Unconscious? What happened?” Gloria asks her, crossing her arms.
“Rick said he took a pretty hard hit to the head by a truck door, or something like that. He’s okay, didn’t seem to have any other serious injuries, might have a minor concussion though.” Denise informs.
Gloria nods then looks around, frowning when she sees that the patient beds are empty, “so.. Where is he?”
“Daryl took him to our jail,” Denise tells her, “oh, before you go, I should let you know that Daryl didn’t seem to be in a good mood, he said something about the guy being the reason why their run didn’t work out? Just figured you should know that.”
“Alright, thanks for the heads up.” Gloria smiles at her then leaves the infirmary.
She goes back to their house to find Daryl, she figured that if he wasn’t in a good mood, he’d come to find her first. However, her thought process was apparently wrong when she found the house empty. Pursing her lips, she goes out to the porch where she spots Rick walking down the street.
“Hey, Rick!” she calls out, walking towards him, “do you know where Daryl is?”
He nods pointedly down the street, “taking guard at the jail.”
Gloria smiles and nods at him, thanking him before going off to find her archer. She runs off in the direction of the house they first kept Rick when he went rogue that one day, finding Daryl seated on the steps fiddling with his fingers.
“Hey you,” she calls out when she reaches him, she sits down beside him, “you okay?”
Daryl hums and nods, “yeah...”
“You sure? You don’t exactly seem okay,” Gloria calls him out.
“‘M fine...” he persists, “saw ya with Spencer earlier... what’d he want?”
“He just buried Deanna...” she informs him, “he went outside the walls to bring her back, wanted to comfort him, give him my condolences.”
He looks down and mumbles, “ya didn’ have to hug him...”
“Are you...jealous?” Gloria teases and she grins when she sees how his face turns pink, “yeah, you’re totally jealous.”
“I ain’.” he denies.
“Okay, you’re not jealous.” Gloria nods, a cheeky smile on her face, “then you won’t mind if I go to comfort him some more.”
She starts to get up but Daryl pulls her back down and wraps his arms around her, a physical indication that he was definitely jealous. His actions make Gloria giggle, she’s never seen him so protective of her this way before and deep down, she absolutely loved it.
“You’re so adorable.” she says, kissing his cheek.
Daryl rolls his eyes, “am not.”
Knowing that she’s never going to win that argument, she changes the subject, “so who’d you bring back?”
“Some asshole who tried to take our truck.” Daryl tells her.
“He tries to take your truck so you run him over with it?” Gloria raises her brow, trying to understand the story fully.
“Nah, me an’ Rick found this truck full o’ food but this asshole stole it from us, we chased him down an’ got it back but he somehow climbed on the damn roof. I wanted to chase him down and beat his ass but then the truck rolled into a lake.” he sighs as he remembers the events of his day.
Gloria blinks at his story, taking in what he just told her, “so... you’re telling me he climbed on the roof of the truck without you or Rick noticing?”
“Yep.” Daryl says.
“Man must be a ninja or something.” she says, making Daryl snort out a laugh, “if he was trying to steal from you two, why even bring him back? He could be a threat.”
Daryl shrugs, “‘t was Rick’s idea, I wanted to put him up a tree.”
“A tree?” Gloria chuckles.
“He was able to get on our moving truck even after we tied him up, he can get himself out a tree. Man even calls himself Jesus, he woulda been fine.” Daryl rants.
“Really, he calls himself Jesus?” she gawks at him.
“Yeah, prolly ‘cause he has a beard and long hair.” he says, then gets up from the porch, “should go check on him, see if he woke up.”
Gloria gets up as well, following Daryl into the house. When the two of them are inside though, they freeze when they see that the room is empty. They look at each other then bolt out of the house altogether. There was a stranger loose in Alexandria at night who knew how to fight and sneak right out from under Daryl’s nose. They had to find him or things could get really bad.
Gloria and Daryl split up to find the man. Glenn and Maggie are outside tending to the gardens when they see Gloria frantically going around, looking for something. They go up to her to find out what was wrong.
“Hey, sis, everything okay?” Glenn asks.
“Have you two seen a man who looks like Jesus?” Gloria asks seriously.
Both Glenn and Maggie blink at her in confusion, they share a look as Maggie shakes her head and Glenn verbally tells her ‘no’.
“What’s this about?” Glenn frowns.
“Daryl and Rick brought someone back from their run, they were in the jail but now they’re gone and no one knows where he is.” Gloria explains.
Hearing this worries Glenn and Maggie as well and they all split up to find this potentially dangerous man. Eventually, they find him sitting on the stairs of Rick’s house. Carl was already pointing a gun at the intruder as he asks him what he’s doing in his house.
“I’m uh, sitting on the steps, looking at this painting, waiting for your mom and dad to get dressed. Hi, I’m Jesus.” the man says.
His words confuse everyone as from their knowledge, Lori was dead. Their confusion is soon cleared though when the door opens and Rick and Michonne emerge from Rick’s bedroom. Daryl has his gun up, pointed at Jesus, fixated on the man. Gloria and Glenn lower their weapons as they look at each other, the siblings share a look and have to keep themselves from laughing at Rick and Michonne for getting caught.
---
Next Chapter
I really loved this episode, there was just a completely different feel to it and their introduction for Jesus was perfect hehe I hope I did it justice! Please let me know what you thought of it ^^
Taglist (please let me know if you’d like to be added/removed!):
@twdeadfanfic | @fandomfanatic97 | @crossbowking | @watchmeaspire | @spidergirla5 | @kamieshep | @letsstarsfalling | @molethemollie | @alicewinchester99 | @neilox | @womanup22 | @jodiereedus22 | @theonlyone-meeeee | @theunofficialduke | @inlovewdxx | @delightfullykrispypeach | @mrsfortune1306 | @wolfkg | @funeral-7 | @wnygirl2012 | @alispaceme | @themihala | @aavocadocloud | @polkadottedpillowcase | @felicisimor | @depressedfrog2 | @spacexkiddo0 | @rachelxwayne | @liadamerondjarin | @soraitmnt | @angelofthorr | @vampteefies | @lightning-butterfly | @huffledor-able541
#Daryl Dixon#Daryl Dixon Fanfic#Daryl Dixon Fanfiction#Daryl Dixon Imagine#Daryl Dixon X OC#Daryl Dixon Original Character#Daryl Dixon X Glenn Sister!OC#Daryl Dixon X Glenn Sister!Original Character#TWD#TWD Fanfic#TWD Fanfiction#TWD Imagine#The Walking Dead#The Walking Dead Fanfic#The Walking Dead Fanfiction#The Walking Dead Imagine#Glenn Rhee#Glenn Sister!OC#Glenn Sister!Original Character#Fated#Fated: Season 6#Fated: S6: Chapter 10
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Fated: Season 6
Summary: Gloria Rhee narrowly escapes Atlanta with her brother as the outbreak reaches the city. Luckily, they find a camp outside the city and together, they fend through encounters with the living and undead.
Starts a little before Season 1 and then follows the main storyline of the show.
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Glenn Sister!OC
Warnings: major TWD spoilers, language, violence (the typical TWD stuff)
A/N: Here we are again, another Monday means another chapter! Hehe I’m not late this time, yay~~!
Chapter 5
It was just supposed to be a dry run, the plan wasn’t supposed to be set in motion until a few days later, but Michonne had come back with Heath and Jacob bearing bad news and an injured Scott. Aaron helped carry him to the infirmary where Gloria patched up his leg, she then left Denise with Jacob to look after him as Gloria went back out to find out what exactly happened on what was supposed to be a dry run.
“The walkers broke through the quarry, we had to go with the plan.” Michonne tells Maggie, Aaron, and Gloria, “Daryl went with Sasha and Abraham to lead the herd away and everything was going as planned until we heard the horn coming from home. What was that anyway?”
“A group of people somehow got inside the walls, killed a bunch of people, and I guess one of them crashed a truck into the wall making the horn go off.” Gloria tells her.
Michonne frowns at this, “dammit...”
“What about Rick and Glenn?” Maggie asks, worried.
“Rick went to get the RV to redirect the herd, he told us to come back here to figure out what was going on. I was with Glenn and Nicholas when we got to a town that was overrun. He split off with Nicholas, he had this idea that if he lit a fire, it would stop the walkers from coming here.” Michonne explains.
Gloria furrows her brows as she remembers what Rick had done before, “because that’s how we distracted the walkers at the farm...”
“I tried to go instead...” Michonne sighs, her voice full of remorse, “I wanted to... but the fire never got lit. We had to keep going, I’m sorry. He said if he got stuck, he’d find a way to send us a signal.”
“They’ll be okay, they’ll make it back, they will.” Gloria says, although she wasn’t sure if she was trying to reassure Maggie or convince herself.
Maggie tearfully nods, worried for her husband’s safety. Just then, a familiar voice could be heard from outside the gates, calling out to whoever could hear him.
“Open the gates!”
Gloria and Michonne rush over to the main gates and push them open, revealing Rick with a large herd of walkers following him. Once they let Rick inside, they hurriedly shut the gates in time to keep the walkers out. The commotion from the walkers snarling and Rick yelling had attracted attention from the other residents of Alexandria. They were trapped within the walls of their own home with an army of walkers just outside.
“Come on.” Michonne says quietly to Gloria.
The two of them shut the clothed inner gate, blocking the view of walkers trying to claw their way into the community. As most of the residents had never even stepped outside the walls before, many of them were panicking and not knowing what to say or do.
“I know, and I understand that you’re all scared because you’ve never seen or been through anything like this.” Rick starts his speech to try and boost morale for the scared people of Alexandria, “the others who aren’t back yet, will be. Glenn will be back with Nicholas.”
Rick looks over to Maggie and he nods then looks over to Gloria, “Daryl, Abraham, and Sasha, they will all come back together.”
“What exactly do you expect us to do?” Tobin asks, his face full of skepticism.
“We keep the sound to an absolute minimum, hopefully the herd will pass when it’s quiet.” Rick suggests.
“It’s going to be a graveyard...” Francine sighs, her words cause the others to worry even more.
The feeling of doubt in Rick and fear is evident between the people of Alexandria. It was clear that they all blamed Rick for bringing the herd back and for coming up with the plan to lead the herd away.
“The quarry broke through sooner than we thought it would and that entire herd of walkers would have made their way back here. But Rick stopped that from happening, instead of having the entire herd tear this place apart, we only have half of that now and that is because of Rick.” Aaron steps up in his defense.
He then closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath, “the group that attacked us... I lead them back here. When I was out there with Daryl, he wanted to recruit more people but I... I wanted to scavenge a warehouse. We did what I wanted and we got caught in a trap set by those people. I left my bag behind and that’s how they found this place. I lead them straight here, that’s on me.”
It’s silent save for the groans and moans of the walkers outside the walls. Rick looks at Aaron in gratitude, he knew that he was trying to turn the mood to blame him for things that have happened instead. He pats the other man’s shoulder and nods at him. The crowd begins to disperse, keeping quiet as they all retreat back to their own homes.
“Gloria,” she hears Jacob call out to her as he walks towards her, “listen, I’m sorry about Glenn, I wanted to go with them but they wouldn’t have me.”
“Are you wondering why?” Gloria raises her eyebrow.
He sighs and shakes his head, “no, no I’m not... I am wondering though... why are there bodies inside the walls, did roamers get in?”
“No, people did,” Gloria tells him, “they got in here somehow and started slaughtering people...”
“What? Are Mindy and Gena okay?” he asks, frantically.
“They’re fine, at least they should be. I told them to stay inside, keep the doors locked until someone comes to get them,” Gloria tells him, “we should go check on them, let Mindy know you’re okay before she passes out.”
Jacob nods at that and the two make their way to Gena’s house. Gloria makes sure to knock on the door and call out to Gena to let her know it’s them. Shortly after, the door opens and Jacob rushes inside to make sure his sister is alright. Gloria walks into the house and closes the door behind her.
Mindy frowns as she sees the cuts and scrapes on his face, “Gloria, are the dangerous men outside gone?”
“Yeah, they’re gone.” Gloria nods.
“Okay, we’re going to the infirmary,” Mindy says, looking at Jacob, “the last thing we want is for the cuts on your face to get infected, and I’m not taking no for an answer.”
Jacob sighs and nods, complying with his sister’s words. They make their way to the infirmary, leaving Gena and Gloria alone.
“Gena,” Gloria calls out to her older sister to catch her attention, “Michonne said that Glenn’s still out there with Nicholas in some town, he wanted to light a fire to distract the herd from coming here.” Gloria says, her jaw tight as she tries to hold herself together.
Gena furrows her brow at her words as she sees right through Gloria, knowing she’s putting up a strong front, she pulls her in for a comforting hug, “Glenn will be fine, and Daryl will be too.”
Gloria smiles tearfully at her as she pulls back from the hug, nodding, “and so will we, we’ll keep this place up so they have a home to come back to.”
Gena nods then opens the container of cookies on the island counter, “cookie?” she asks, offering one to the younger.
“I thought you said you weren’t going to eat them because of all the sugar,” Gloria chuckles as she takes a cookie for herself.
“I might not have long left so I might as well have all the sugar I want.” Gena says, then takes a bite of her cookie, her words make Gloria frown.
“Don’t talk like that,” she scolds then groans when Gena shrugs, “you are so contradictory. One minute you’re telling me that things will be okay, the next you’re talking about not having any time left. What the hell do you actually think?!”
“I think that I’m not gonna make it!” Gena snaps, “I’m surprised I even made it this far. You can fight, Glenn’s fast, of course both of you are gonna make it, but me? I can only fight with my words, that’s why I became a lawyer but what good is that gonna do for me now? What, am I going to just yell at the undead to stop coming at me?!”
Gloria puts down the cookie on the island counter and holds Gena by her shoulders, “look at me. You will make it, okay? It doesn’t matter that you can’t fight or you’re not as fast as Glenn, you’ll make it because we will all make it. You’re not alone in this, we got your back. You said I can fight, right? I’ll protect you.”
Gena chuckles softly at her words, “who’s supposed to be the older sister?”
“It doesn’t matter who’s older or younger, we’re family, and family protect each other no matter what.” Gloria says with a warm smile.
Gena’s eyes well up with tears and she caresses Gloria’s cheeks, breaking into a sob, “what did I do to you? You always had to fend for yourself... I’m so sorry...”
“It’s okay,” Gloria says, pulling Gena in for a hug as the older cries in her arms, “if it weren’t for you, I probably wouldn’t have lasted this long anyway.”
As Gena tries to stifle her sobs, Gloria’s eyes land on a photo album on the island counter near the container of cookies. She reaches out to slide it towards her and opens it, her movement making Gena pull away from the hug to see what Gloria was doing. She flips to a page in the album with childhood photos of the three siblings. She chuckles when she sees the three of them as children.
“You brought photo albums with you?” Gloria teases.
“Of course, I wasn’t sure if I was ever going to see my baby brother and sister again so the least I had were these.” Gena admits, looking at the photos.
A sad smile pulls at Gloria’s lips then Gena clears her throat, trying not to break down and cry again. She flips to a specific page in the album and points to a photo.
“That’s my favorite picture of us.” Gena informs her.
It was a photo of them all in formal clothing. Glenn was in a black suit, Gloria in a dark blue dress, and Gena in a red dress. The photo was taken at one of their cousin’s weddings.
“It’s my favorite because we all look so grown up and happy. I’m also pretty sure it’s the only photo of us all smiling.” Gena explains.
Gloria laughs and nods, “yeah, if you look at all of these it’s either me pouting and crying or Glenn making a weird face at the camera.”
The sisters go through more photo albums for hours, reminiscing over past events captured in the photos. After Mindy and Jacob had returned to the house, Gloria went back to her own to rest as it was getting quite late. She had tried to sleep but no matter how exhausted her body felt, her mind was not allowing her to fall asleep. She’d been tossing and turning in her bed for hours when she decided to get up. Gloria walks into the kitchen and pours herself a glass of water before sitting on a stool at the kitchen island counter. She places the glass in front of her as she props her elbows up on the counter, clasping her hands together to keep herself from fidgeting anxiously.
Gloria couldn’t help but be worried about Glenn and Daryl, no matter what anyone else told her. It was the fact that she had no idea where they were that worried her the most. A big part of her wished that she went against Daryl’s wishes and gone out with them, at least then she would be with either of them and know what the heck was going on. Now, she was just sitting in the kitchen helplessly, not knowing what else to do. The door opening pulls Gloria out of her thoughts and she forces a smile at Maggie who walks into the house.
“Hey, why aren’t you sleeping?” Maggie asks, stepping towards her, a worried look on her face.
“I don’t think any of us are gonna get any sleep tonight,” Gloria chuckles softly and then she sighs, “how are you holding up?”
“Not great,” Maggie tells her honestly, joining her on one of the other stools at the kitchen island counter, “I almost went out there to find him.”
“Alone?” Gloria furrows her brow in concern.
“I was about to, but Aaron insisted on coming with me,” Maggie tells her, “showed me a way out from the sewers, we were almost out, but I changed my mind...”
“It’s good that you did, Glenn wouldn’t want you out there, not in the middle of this,” Gloria says, holding her hand in reassurance.
Maggie lets out a shaky breath, “I’m pregnant.”
Gloria’s eyes widen at the news then she smiles at her, “congratulations.”
“For what?” Maggie snaps, tears brimming in her eyes, “having a baby who’s father might already be dead?”
“Maggie, you can’t think like that,” Gloria says sternly, “Glenn’s going to be back, I know he will.”
“How can you be so sure?” Maggie asks as she tries to keep herself from crying.
“It’s Glenn. He’s not going to let you go through this alone, he’ll be back and he’ll take care of you. I know him, he’s going to do everything he can to get back to you and your baby,” Gloria gives her hand a light squeeze to comfort her.
A small smile tugs at Maggie’s lips and she smiles tearfully at Gloria, nodding, “you’re right, that’s how Glenn is...”
“Yeah,” Gloria smiles in agreement, then she lets out a breath.
“Hey,” Maggie calls out, making the other look at her, “Daryl’s gonna be back too.”
Gloria nods at that, “our boys will be back, they will be.”
---
In the morning, Gloria goes out to check on the others. She mainly wanted to see if Glenn or Daryl had come back, but unfortunately they were still outside the walls. Her first stop was the infirmary to check up on Scott.
“How’s it going?” Gloria asks, she glances at Scott who’s still asleep on the patient bed.
“He had an infection and was burning up last night.” Denise informs.
Gloria looks at her and frowns, “why didn’t you come find me?”
“I know I should have, but I wanted to try first... I wanted to try and figure it out on my own in case I couldn’t find you. I couldn’t let what happened to Holly stop me from trying.” Denise says.
Her words make Gloria smile proudly and she nods, “since his heart rate is normal, I’m gonna take an educated guess that you managed to figure it out?”
“Yep, I did,” Denise grins, “I injected his wound with saline and extracted the pus from it. Once I did, his heart rate stabilized.”
Gloria pats Denise’s shoulder, “you’ve officially been promoted to a doctor.”
Denise giggles then bites her lip, blush creeping on her face, “I um...”
“Yes?” she raises an eyebrow in question.
“I... kinda kissed Tara yesterday after figuring things out.” Denise admits shyly.
“And you kept on denying that you didn’t like her.” Gloria calls her out, laughing.
Denise rolls her eyes jokingly at her teasing but laughs with her anyway. A knock on the infirmary door interrupts their chat as they both turn and see Morgan. The two women greet the man who in turn smiles at them.
“I uh... I was hoping to speak with Denise alone. I heard she was a psychiatrist before and I have uh... some issues I wanted to work out.” Morgan says sheepishly.
Gloria smiles understanding and nods, “he’s all yours, Dr. Cloyd.”
Denise beams at her new title, grinning shyly as she bids farewell to Gloria who leaves the two in the infirmary. She goes on to find Maggie who was on the platform keeping watch. She climbs up to meet her sister-in-law and stands beside her, looking out into the herd of walkers just outside the walls.
“Have you seen any signs?” Gloria asks her.
Maggie shakes her head, “no... just walkers.”
Gloria nods and sighs. They were both worried for Glenn, it wasn’t that they didn’t think he could handle himself, it was more so of the fact that he was out there with Nicholas. What if he hadn’t changed and tried to kill Glenn again, they would never know. Emotion overcomes Maggie as her eyes well up in tears, she looks down and sniffles, doing her best to stop herself from crying. Gloria looks at her sympathetically and holds her shoulder firm for reassurance.
“I’m sorry I snapped at you yesterday...” Maggie sighs deeply, “I shouldn’t have said what I said about Glenn being dead...”
“It’s okay...” Gloria pauses then chuckles, “are you gonna snap at me if I say that I blamed your hormones?”
Maggie eyes her playfully then finally breaks into a smile, “no, I’ll just push you off this ledge.”
The two of them laugh lightly as they look out into the distance. Both of their expressions change as something in the distance catches their eyes. A bundle of green balloons were floating up into the sky. It dawns on both of them that this was the sign they were waiting for, Glenn was alive and this was his signal.
“We gotta tell Rick.” Maggie says, rushing down the ladder.
“Hey, be careful.” Gloria calls out as she quickly follows her down.
“Rick! Rick!” Maggie calls out as she runs towards the sheriff, “that’s Glenn.”
He was also looking up at the sky, his eyes on the bundle of bright green balloons. Rick glances at her and nods with a small smile. His smile is short lived though as they all hear a thundering crack of wood along the wall. The watchtower begins to sway just before it leans into the wall and crashes down, taking the metal walls with it.
---
Next Chapter
Sorry for not having any Daryl in this one but it’s worth it, I swear! I’d say this is kinda like the calm before the storm? The next one gets pretty intense so look forward to that! Please let me know what you guys thought of this chapter, it was a rather emotional one in my opinion ^^
Taglist (please let me know if you’d like to be added/removed!):
@twdeadfanfic | @fandomfanatic97 | @crossbowking | @watchmeaspire | @spidergirla5 | @kamieshep | @letsstarsfalling | @molethemollie | @alicewinchester99 | @neilox | @womanup22 | @jodiereedus22 | @theonlyone-meeeee | @theunofficialduke | @inlovewdxx | @delightfullykrispypeach | @mrsfortune1306 | @wolfkg | @funeral-7 | @wnygirl2012 | @alispaceme | @themihala | @aavocadocloud | @polkadottedpillowcase | @felicisimor | @depressedfrog2 | @spacexkiddo0 | @rachelxwayne | @liadamerondjarin | @soraitmnt | @angelofthorr | @vampteefies | @decadentsoulbiscuitgoth
#Daryl Dixon#Daryl Dixon Fanfic#Daryl Dixon Fanfiction#Daryl Dixon Imagine#Daryl Dixon X OC#Daryl Dixon X Original Character#Daryl Dixon X Glenn Sister!OC#Daryl Dixon X Glenn Sister!Original Character#TWD#TWD Fanfic#TWD Fanfiction#TWD Imagine#The Walking Dead#The Walking Dead Fanfic#The Walking Dead Fanfiction#The Walking Dead Imagine#Glenn Rhee#Glenn Sister!OC#Glenn Sister!Original Character#Fated#Fated: Season 6#Fated: S6: Chapter 5
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