#daryl dixon daughter

[darylsdelts]

Breathe

Darylxdaughter!reader

summary: Daryl is your father, upon entering Alexandria for the first night, you struggle with your anxiety and your Dad comforts you as best he can.

warnings: mentions of nausea, anxiety, panic attacks, fatherly comfort.

Arriving at the gates of the new community…Alexandria, you felt your stomach doing flips. Usually when kids were scared or nervous, they would hold onto their parents hand a little tighter but you were the opposite, you almost always were, in every way you were the opposite to ‘most kids’.

When the gates started to open, your father, Daryl reached for your hand, giving it a small squeeze. Your dad always knew what would get you anxious and he also knew how you tried to deal with the feeling, so he knew that you did not want to hold his hand right now, he knew it made you feel like the world was putting its entire weight on you. He also knew that you hated that he could always tell when you’d start feeling the tightness in your chest, it filled you with humiliation.

However, Daryl could feel his own chest tightening with anxiety. Bringing his child into a place that he’s unfamiliar with, full of people he couldn’t trust, scared the shit outta him. It filled him with guilt, knowing that he couldn’t ever promise you safety but he also wasn’t one to ever lie to you.

It was like some sort of internal humiliation, you hated that you couldn’t just breeze through certain situations like your Dad or like Rick, they were never scared of anything.

You swiftly pulled your hand from your fathers grip, earning a glance down in your direction which you tried your best to ignore, he had a way of making his gaze feel like it could burn you alive.

Despite not wanting to be touched or comforted, yous still stuck right by your fathers side. You hated admitting it but being next to your dad did comfort you and being in this foreign community, you needed that.

It felt like an eternity of standing next to Daryl, scuffing your feet against the smooth tarmac whilst the adults spoke about where y’all were gonna be sleeping. Your dad didn’t really give much input, he didn’t seem fond of this place so you decided you wouldn’t be either. You weren’t paying attention to the conversation but you assumed there had been some sort of arrangement when Daryl flattened his palm on your upper back and pushed you in the direction of a house that wasn’t claimed by a family yet.

When it was time to sleep, the group all slept on the floor together even though they all had beds now, and you wanted so badly to sleep in a bed. However, you understood why and you felt safer when you were with the whole group anyway.

But knowing that you were basically trapped in this new place made your tummy hurt and your lungs work a little harder. 

You were sat with your back against the wall, a small space between the windowsill and the cot that Judith was in, and your knees were drawn to your chest. You and your father were the only ones still awake, he was sat on the window sill and watching the darkness outside, always ready.

Your eyes scanned over your found family, all pairs of eyes were closed and they were all unconscious. 

You thought about the fact that this is what they’d all look like if they were all dead in front of you and you feel an uncomfortable wave of heat come over you, from your head to your toes and now your feet felt tingly. You started to overthink: were you really safe here? You felt safe if you were with your dad but with the way he was staring out the window, as if he was waiting for something bad to happen, didn’t make it seem like he felt safe here. What if this place was like terminus? They’re just pretending to be good people. Maybe you’ll wake up and everyone will actually be dead.

The room started to feel way too small, way too much like an enclosure.

You got up as quietly as you could, stepping carefully over your family and heading to the front door.

You were getting that weird feeling, the one where you feel like your heads being pulled back whilst your body drags you forward. Every time you’ve felt this way, your dad has been able to tell and every time he’d always get you to fresh air if you weren’t already outside, so that’s what you were doing.

Once you were on the porch, you shut the door as quietly as possible and walked to the corner of the wooden bannister, sliding down to the ground so that you were sat with your knees tucked against your chest again.

You attempted to take deep breaths like Dad had taught you to, you’d seen him do it himself sometimes too. Dad said that he sometimes got the same feeling as you got when he was scared… but he never really seemed scared.

You tried to keep up the breathing exercise but your jaw began to tingle and your head was getting a little fuzzy, you felt like you were really about to throw up.

You only ever got this bad twice.

The first was before the walkers were around, when you had to wait in your Dads truck whilst he visited grandpa Will. Dad never let you go in with him, you weren’t exactly sure why your dad still visited him because when he came back to the truck he was always angry but Dad never spoke about it. But you always got the bad feeling when your father was in there a little too long.

The second was on the farm, when Andrea shot Daryl in the side of his head, you were forced to sit down on a bench with Lori and Carl whilst Hershel tried to help your Dad. You were sure he was gonna be gone, you were so scared that you pretty much stopped breathing whilst Lori tried to assure you that your dad was strong and he’d be fine. That time you really did throw up.

You didn’t even realise the door had opened when you were pulled from your thoughts as you felt someone brush some hair out of your face.

You flinched and it took effort to focus your eyes on the person, but when you did you saw it was Dad.

“Hey… ya hearing’ me? Ya gotta breathe for me y/n”

Daryl rubbed his large hand on your shoulder and held his other hand under your chin to get you to look at him. When your breathing didn’t seem to slow down, he took your much smaller hand in his and put it flat on his chest.

“C’mon, just like Daddy, darlin’… nice n slow…”

Your tried your best, trying to match your fathers rise and fall of his chest. After about two minutes if repeating the slow breaths, you realised you had been crying. You hated crying, even in front of your Dad, sure, he’d seen you cry plenty but you still hated it, it made you feel so dramatic.

As soon as you realised how wet your cheeks were, you ducked your head down, your hair falling over your eyes.

Daryl knew you were trying to hide, and he let you for all of ten seconds before he sat with his back against the bannister with his legs out straight in front of him.

He snaked an arm around your shoulder and tried to pull you into him.

“C’mere”

When you forced your body to resist, he pulled a little harder.

“Baby, c’mere…”

You reluctantly let him pull you into his side and his hand smoothed over your hair repeatedly as you sniffled.

After a while, you finally spoke, trying desperately to sound angry at him.

“Ain’t a baby.”

You felt Daryl’s chest vibrate a little with a chuckle.

“Yer my baby, dun care how old…”

You didn’t say anything, you liked that he said that, it made you feel safe just like most things he said or did.

You both sat in silence for a bit, daryl still stroking your hair.

Until your Dad speaks in a low and quiet voice.

“I know yer feelin’ stuck n ya ain’t likin’ this place so far but we ain’t even been here one day yet. I dun like it either… feels like we’re all trapped or sum’n and I-“

He stops and sighs.

“Know ya don’t like tellin’ me when yer feelin’ scared or when yer gettin’ anxious but you gotta tell me, baby.”

When you don’t reply, he takes another deep breath.

“Listen, I dun know what ya need if ya ain’t gon’ tell me, darlin’.”

You shrugged a little, you didn’t exactly need anything, you just wished that you could know that you and your family would be fine, but your dad couldn’t promise that for you.

“This place makes my tummy hurt.”

Daryl sighed, feeling guilty that he couldn’t do much to help.

“Mine too… but I ain’t gon’ let nothin’ bad happen to ya, you know that, right?”

“I know… just wish my head didn’t go all weird n I could be strong like you…”

Daryl squeezed you tighter to him.

“You make me brave, y/n… wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have you”.

You couldn’t really understand that. Surely it would be easier to survive without having to worry about a kid. You didn’t understand that your father had meant what he said in a different way, he knew he would’ve given up a long time ago if he didn’t have you to look after, you were his only reason to fight because you were the only thing that mattered to him.

“And… you’ll get better at dealin’ with yer head, I promise… I used to get like that as a kid too… still do sometimes”, Daryl spoke out into the night, he’d never admitted to you that he had also dealt with the same thing at your age, and that he still sometimes had to deal with it. He knew that you saw him as invincible but he sure as shit weren’t, he’d had his fair share of panic attacks, plenty that had gone unnoticed by you and the group because he’d grown up having to learn how to make them invisible.

“Your brain goes weird too?”

“Mhm, sometimes… when things feel like they’re gettin’ too much… that’s why ya came out ‘ere, right?”

You nod against his shoulder, you had calmed down completely now and your eyes were beginning to drop closed against your will.

“I know…” he glances down at you. “C’mon... ya need rest, kid”.

You didn’t have the energy to protest when your Dad practically pulled you off the ground and guided back to the living area where the group was still sleeping. Daryl held both your shoulders as he pushed you toward the windowsill, where he sat down then pulled you down to lay your head in his lap. He laid his leather vest over your shoulders and then let one hand rest on the side of your head, his thumb stroking your hairline, of course he didn’t sleep, he stayed up all night, staring out the window. He still felt guilt eating away at him, he wished that you didn’t have to suffer with your anxiety the same way he did but he was at least glad that he could be there for you, that’s more than he had.

[boygiwrites]

TWD Harley D. Dixon Chapter List

Daryl Dixon & Daughter OC.

Gen Tags. Found family, Daddy issues, Abuse, Hurt and comfort, Gore.

Summary. Harley D. Dixon is a tough yet sweet little girl who until the dead started eating the living, thought she had seen it all. Alongside a mismatched group of survivors in rural Georgia, Harley and her Dad are forced to leave their small life behind and learn how to survive all over again through the horrors of the apocalypse.

— TW: This fic contains canon typical violence and gore, abuse, mentioned suicide, off-screen suicide, main character death, and has been described by my lovely readers over on Ao3 as 'gritty', 'intriguing', 'intense', and 'special'. Please read with caution!

— Note: Canon is only loosely followed. Some changes have been made to certain plot points to keep it fresh and interesting / account for the added character.

❤️Cross-Posted from Ao3.

Season 1 - 2 Word Count: 180,000 Season 3 - ? Word Count: 52,000

SEASON ONE.

Chapter 1: Them That Mourn.

Chapter 2: No More Songs.

Chapter 3: My Brave Girl.

Chapter 4: Not Quite Yet.

Chapter 5: Black Out Days.

Chapter 6: Angels and Devils.

Chapter 7: Nothing's Ever Ours.

Chapter 8: In Sheep's Clothing.

Chapter 9: Rest In Piece.

SEASON TWO.

Chapter 10: Play Stupid Games.

Chapter 11: Win Stupid Prizes.

Chapter 12: Daddy Dearest.

Chapter 13: A Plan And An Execution

Chapter 14: If Heaven Weren't A Lie.

Chapter 15: Mockingbird.

Chapter 16: Custody Battles.

Chapter 17: Every Corner.

Chapter 18: Custody Battles, Part II.

Chapter 19: Dreams Don't Go Unpunished.

Chapter 20: And Still Very Beautiful.

Chapter 21: Thoughts and Prayers

Chapter 22: Growing Pains.

Chapter 23: The Type Meant for Dying.

Chapter 24: Church and State

Chapter 25: And The Type That Ain't.

Chapter 26: The Last Sunday on Earth.

Chapter 27: A New Life, Pursued.

Chapter 28: These Old Homes.

SEASON THREE.

Chapter 29: From Little Seeds.

Chapter 30: Red Handed.

Chapter 31: Maturity.

Chapter 32: The Best of Us.

Chapter 33: Picket Fences.

Chapter 34: Fresh Air.

Chapter 35: A Short Walk.

Chapter 36: Paradise.

Chapter 37: A Piece of Me.

Chapter 38: Heroes, Old and New.

Chapter 39: Please Head Home.

[je-mama]

This is my first ever real fic, so spare me if there's spelling mistakes and all that sort of stuff X)

This is like dad Daryl-ish, where he meets a little girl and soon enough becomes her "father", or that's what it feels like.

Warning: nothing rlly

————————————————————————

"Rachel!" You heard your mother whisper to you, pulling you into a closet.

"What are you doing mama?" Rachel asked, looking up at her mother who's pushing herself into the closet aswell.

"We're going to play a game of silence, yeah? Who stays silent the longest wins, ready?" She whispered into her ear, holding her close. Rachel nodded, keeping her mouth shut, not knowing what was going on.

Soon they both heard people breaking into the store they've been hiding in, and due to the sudden noise, Rachel starts to tug her mother's shirt.

"Mama?" She whispered, but quickly shut up when her mother puts her hand over her mouth.

And soon, the closet door flew open, her mother taken out and Rachel being left alone, in a cold, dark closet. All she heard for the last few minutes were her mother's prayers, praying them to not hurt her baby girl, to leave her alive.

————————————————————————

A few days later Rick, Daryl and Glenn went on a run for food, water, whatever is and will be useful.

Rachel was still in that same closet, hungry, cold and absolutely terrified. But then she heard people come close. So she decided to carefully step out of it.

At the sudden noise, Daryl, who is grabbing some canned meat, turns his head around. Only to see a little girl whose no older than 7.

"What're ya doing here?" He asked, frowning at the little girl.

Which Rachel didn't reply to, only staring at him before taking a step back. She shook her head, too afraid to talk.

"C'mere kid, I ain't gonna hurt you." He mumbled, holding his hand out.

"No talking to strangers." Said Rachel, knowing that her mother taught her to never talk to people she doesn't know.

"You saw me, I saw you. We ain't strangers no more." He said in a slightly annoyed tone, slinging the bag over his shoulder.

"We got a save place, food, water, shelter..." He added, walking towards the little girl.

"C'mon. Just come. We're gonna get food for ya." He said as I held his hand out once again and Rachel took his hand into hers this time.

————————————————————————

Daryl, Glenn, Rick and Rachel all came back to Alexanderia, where others were surprise that a little girl came by.

Everyone accepted Rachel though, and Daryl took her in. Mainly because Rachel trusts him, and wouldn't let go off his side, like a damn koala.

But he'll gladly accept it, if she's happy he's happy, if she thinks of him as her father then she's his daughter.

"Kid. I gotta go." I mumbled, trying to get her to listen.

"No! Dont go!" She whined, holding onto his hand.

"I'll be back soon. Might get ya a toy or sum'." He sighed, pushing her hand away before walking off, leaving Rachel alone.

She doesn't like being alone, not after her mother died, but she's willing to accept it since she might get a new toy.

————————————————————————

Hours later Daryl came back, putting his crossbow on the coffee table before taking a deep breath.

"Rachel! Come 'ere!" He called out, which Rachel heard and ran towards her father.

"Yeah?" She said with a smile, hoping she got a new toy.

"Got you somethin', you like cats right?" He asked, which Rachel nodded excitedly to.

"Here ya go." He said as he gave her a cat plushie.

Rachel quickly took it from him, her eyes lighting up with excitement.

"Thank you! Thank you daddy!" She smiled wider, hugging the plushie to her chest.

She hugged Daryl soon after, which Daryl first reacted a bit uncomfortable with but soon enough hugged her back.

"Glad you're happy with it." He whispered, smiling softly as he saw his daughter with a bright smile on her face.

[poetoflawed]

Charms

Notes: not proofread, Tell me what you think and if i should do a pt.2! 1219 words DDxY/N - platonic (y/n is Daryl's younger sister) RGxY/N - platonic (Y/N sees rick like a dad and he sees her as a daughter) Daryl calls reader Arrow as a nick name and she calls him Boss man.

The Dixon's didn't have nice things. They were a family of pain and tragedy. The Dixon kids lived day to day. They wandered their little town to avoid the storm that was their father. They lived and learned in the woods.  The Dixon boys were hardened, their hearts constantly carried a protective shell, never letting anyone in. 

Well everyone except you. You were the youngest of the Dixon clan. You followed after your brothers ever since you could walk. Merle pretty much ignored you. Your cries falling on deaf ears when he was high sprawled out on the couch, while Daryl was at work. Left unanswered until the young man comes home. That was their life. The three of them, together, navigating the turmoil that was their lives. 

As the kids grew you and Daryl had an unbreakable bond. In her eyes he was the father figure she needed. He taught her how to hunt, how to fight, and how to be. Where Merle and their father failed Daryl stepped up. He was there when Merle took off. He was there when she was 6, teaching her how to punch when a boy pushed her off the swings. He was there when she was 11, teaching her how to fix anything mechanical, after a fight with their father ended with fists flying. He was there when she was 16, teaching her what she was worth when he sat with her after her homecoming date stood her up. No matter what he was there. Always caring and following like a friendly shadow. 

This all came to a head the day of your 10th birthday. The Dixon's didn't have nice things. Everyone knew that. But this was a special birthday. You had just withstood another angry tirade of their demon of a father. which had, later on in the night, resulted in her telling Daryl her feelings. 

“I know we can’t have nice things. I know it. But I feel like I can’t get normal soon.like if i dont have one thing to know i’m worth it, I'll be gone. Just like mama.” 

As you sob, Daryl, horrified, decides at that moment he was gonna give her something to tell her she's worth it. The next day Daryl staked out a mall. Found a nice store selling nice things, and that’s when he saw it. A tiny charm. The charm of a little bear. A charm that would represent the stolen childhood his sister deserved. So, he did what he knew. He boosted it. Slipped it into his pocket, and walked out of the mall. 

Looking back now Daryl thinks that was the first time he REALLY saw you smile in years. It was the first smile that reached your eyes. 

“This is your childhood, it's silver and shiny and new. It's something nice so you know you’re worth it.” 

He couldn’t know this but that charm was your saving grace. Once the world fell, that charm told you you were worth it everytime it hung around your neck. It was your most prized possession. You were 20 when the world fell. Fresh faced and away from home. As soon as you could you said your goodbyes and left for Atlanta. Daryl understood but couldn’t leave Merle.You called and talked with him but when the world fell, after months of searching, your hopes were crushed. He was gone and you were never gonna see him ever again. 

You don't know how long you were alone for but  running into the sheriff Grimes was your second saving grace. He kept you alive and you helped him fed. You formed an unlikely friendship. He replaced a hole that once housed your brother and you reminded him of his son. All wide eyed and smart. You traveled together determined to return him to his family. As the journey progresses your little group expands. You meet a woman named Andrea, and a man named Morales. Who explains they have a group of survivors. A group they would like you to join With both your and Rick's hopes wearing thin, you decide to go with the group. As the truck you’re all in pulls up on the camp the two survivors get out. You see Rick in the passenger seat with his face in his hands 

“Listen, if you start to get antsy we can always leave and keep looking.” you say to ease his worry. 

“Yeah. you're right.” He slowly gets out of the truck, helping you out the back. Both of you slowly walk up the gravel road. Him slightly ahead, a protective habit. You see Andrea and Morales, reunite with their families and your heart warms. With a hand on Rick’s back you walk up the road with him waiting to see what happens.  Morales seeing you two walk up calls you over,

“Hey helicopter boy! Come say hello!” With your head down, you and Rick walk up to morales. That's when you see it. Rick looks like hes seen a ghost. 

“What? What is it?” you say coming around to see him,

“Oh my god…”  

“What dad? What?” your holding his arm now when he speeds up walking.

Gently, he brushes you off and starts running, running straight into the arms of a boy…

Straight into the arms of his son. Your eyes tear in joy and in pain. You knew he only had you with him for help. He let you call him dad, but at the end of the day this boy was his kid not you. You stood there feeling more alone than ever. 

You watch as a family is made whole again. And that’s when the woman spots you. From what Rick’s told you it must be Loiri. 

“Whos that?” she whispers.

“Shes with me. Shes part of our family.” he explains how you helped keep him alive and bring him back to them. 

As this is all happening you are standing looking really out of place. Unsure where to go. Thats when you’re engulfed in the woman’s arms

“He told me you saved him. He told me you call him dad. If you want to stay we will be your family.” your sobs of relief are your only response. That is until both your eyes are torn over to the commotion being started by a man rounding a parked trailer.

The other members of the group are trying to break up a fight between Rick and a man. Breaking from the hug you rush into the fight,

“DAD!” you scream pulling the other man off. You punch him square in the jaw, which frankly just pisses him off, without looking to see WHO hit him his fist rears back and hits you straight on in the mouth. You fall back and the other men rush the now separated men.

Rick, rushes over to you

“You ok!?” he asks 

“Peachy” you mumble spitting some blood into the dirt. 

As rick helps you up you hear the other men speaking to daryl. 

“Jesus man!”

“Daryl, what on earth were you thinking!” 

Now that catches your attention. 

“Daryl?” 

“Yeah? What?” Hes practically growling and shivering with rage,

“Daryl its me… its Arrow!”

Daryl slowly lifts his head as he catches his breath. 

“Arrow… what…?” hes looking at you fully now,

“Look, look, it's me Boss man.” slowly you pull out a chain from around your neck. Hanging in the middle is a little bear charm. 

He looks at you and slowly starts walking up to you until hes only a few inches away from you.

“Arrow, OH MY GOD ARROW!” suddenly hes there. Hes Holding you, and your not alone anymore suddenly your family is whole and happy and you realize, 

The Dixon's do have nice things.

[aspenmissing]

【Ｓｅａｓｏｎ　１】

ᴅᴀʏꜱ ɢᴏɴᴇ ʙʏ - ᴅᴇᴘᴜᴛʏ ꜱʜᴇʀɪꜰꜰ ʀɪᴄᴋ ɢʀɪᴍᴇꜱ ᴀᴡᴀᴋᴇɴꜱ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴀ ᴄᴏᴍᴀ, ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴇᴀʀᴄʜᴇꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ʜɪꜱ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ʀᴀᴠᴀɢᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴜɴᴅᴇᴀᴅ. ᴀʟᴏɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʏ, ʜᴇ ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱ ᴘᴀᴛʜꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏ/ɴ ᴅɪxᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ʏᴏᴜɴɢ ʙᴏʏ ᴡʜᴏᴍ ꜱʜᴇ ꜱᴜʀᴠɪᴠᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ. ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇʏ ɢᴏ ɪɴ ꜱᴇᴀʀᴄʜ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟɪᴇꜱ. ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1

ɢᴜᴛꜱ - ʀɪᴄᴋ, ʏ/ɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴀɴɴʏ ᴊᴏɪɴꜱ ᴀ ꜱᴍᴀʟʟ ɢʀᴏᴜᴘ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴜʀᴠɪᴠᴏʀꜱ ɪɴ ᴀɴ ᴀᴛᴛᴇᴍᴘᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴇꜱᴄᴀᴘᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴀᴛʟᴀɴᴛᴀ. ʏ/ɴ ɪꜱ ʀᴇᴜɴɪᴛᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜᴇʀ ᴜɴᴄʟᴇ, ᴡʜᴏᴍ ꜱʜᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ꜱᴛʀᴀʏᴇᴅ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ɴᴇᴀʀ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴜᴛʙʀᴇᴀᴋ. ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1 ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2

ᴛᴇʟʟ ɪᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰʀᴏɢꜱ - ʜᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴜʀᴠɪᴠᴏʀꜱ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴘ, ʀɪᴄᴋ ɪꜱ ʀᴇᴜɴɪᴛᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪꜱ ᴡɪꜰᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴏɴ, ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ʏ/ɴ ɪꜱ ʀᴇᴜɴɪᴛᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜᴇʀ ꜰᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ʙᴜᴛ ꜱᴏᴏɴ ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇꜱ - ᴀʟᴏɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ꜱᴜʀᴠɪᴠᴏʀꜱ - ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏᴏꜰᴛᴏᴘ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇꜱᴄᴜᴇ ᴍᴇʀʟᴇ, ʏ/ɴ'ꜱ ᴜɴᴄʟᴇ. ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1 ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2

ᴠᴀᴛᴏꜱ - ɪɴ ᴀᴛʟᴀɴᴛᴀ, ʀɪᴄᴋ'ꜱ ɢʀᴏᴜᴘ ᴄᴏᴍᴇꜱ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴄᴏɴꜰʟɪᴄᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴠᴀᴛᴏꜱ, ᴀ ɢʀᴏᴜᴘ ᴏꜰ ʟᴀᴛɪɴᴏꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴋɪᴅɴᴀᴘ ɢʟᴇɴɴ ᴀɴᴅ ʏ/ɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴇᴍᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴇxᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ʀɪᴄᴋ'ꜱ ʙᴀɢ ᴏꜰ ᴡᴇᴀᴘᴏɴꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ʜɪꜱ ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴ. ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇʏ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ-ᴏꜰꜰ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴠᴀᴛᴏꜱ' ʙᴀꜱᴇ, ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴅɪꜱᴄᴏᴠᴇʀ ɪᴛ ɪꜱ ᴀ ʜɪᴅᴅᴇɴ ɴᴜʀꜱɪɴɢ ʜᴏᴍᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴠᴀᴛᴏꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴛʀʏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴏᴡɴ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ. ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1 ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2

ᴡɪʟᴅꜰɪʀᴇ - ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴜʀᴠɪᴠᴏʀꜱ ᴅᴇᴀʟ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀᴍᴀᴛʜ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʟᴋᴇʀ ᴀᴛᴛᴀᴄᴋ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴏᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴇɴᴛᴇʀꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ᴅɪꜱᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʀᴇᴠᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ꜰᴀᴄɪʟɪᴛɪᴇꜱ, ʜᴏᴘɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ꜰɪɴᴅ ᴀ ᴄᴜʀᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀɴ ɪɴꜰᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ᴊɪᴍ ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1 ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2

ᴛꜱ-19 - ᴛʜᴇ ɢʀᴏᴜᴘ ꜰɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ꜰɪɴᴅꜱ ꜱᴀꜰᴇ ʜᴀᴠᴇɴ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴇɴᴛᴇʀꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ᴅɪꜱᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʀᴇᴠᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ʜᴇᴀᴅQᴜᴀʀᴛᴇʀꜱ, ᴀʟᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜱᴄɪᴇɴᴛɪꜱᴛ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ, ᴅʀ. ᴇᴅᴡɪɴ ᴊᴇɴɴᴇʀ ʜɪᴅᴇꜱ ᴍᴀɴʏ ꜱᴇᴄʀᴇᴛꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʟᴇᴀᴅꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʀᴏᴜᴘ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴇᴍᴀɴᴅ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀꜱ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴢᴏᴍʙɪᴇ ᴀᴘᴏᴄᴀʟʏᴘꜱᴇ. ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1 ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2

[uptondixon]

"I know I’m not perfect, but I do try my hardest." Daryl said while, surprisingly, looking you in the eye.

You were confused, Daryl's wasn't that straightforward with his feelings. "What? What do you mean?"

His gaze didn't wander "I'll try my hardest to not let that happen to you."

Realization hit you like a truck. He was talking about her.

"I failed Sophia, but I promise I won't fail you." These words were said with a tone of sentiment you never heard from Daryl before.

You were at a loss of words, big eyes staring back at the man before you.

After today, you truly lost a part of your faith in the world. But it seemed you just gained something too.

"I know, Daryl."

"And I love you for it."

Prompt 42 from @positivelyholland Parental Writing Prompts

[lunajay33]

The Bad Guy

•🩵🪽🌪️🪵•

Summary: You know it’s wrong to be attracted to the man that turned your community upside down but how could you not crave Negan, the man your father hates

Pairing: Negan Smith x Ricks Daughter

Warnings: Suggestive

•Masterlist•

I couldn’t help it, the first time I saw him was when he first visited Alexandria to steal everything with his men, but when I walked out of the house I stayed in with Michonne, Daryl, and my brother sister and father, I saw him standing there in all his terrifying glory

“And who’s this gorgeous thing, hot damn!” He exclaimed with the biggest smirk as he stood infront of me, my dad glaring daggers at him

My knees got weak and I couldn’t take my eyes away from him

“Hmmmm I like this one” then him and all his men packed up and were gone leaving me with an urge I’ve never really felt before

“Oh sweetheart I’m sorry that must’ve been scary” Michonne said as she led me inside, I wanted to laugh but I couldn’t let them know how I thought of the man who terrorized them

For the next couple of weeks all I could think about was him, his scruffy beard, the way he smirked when he was looking down at me, the way his cologne smelled like forests and manly, this man consumed my thoughts every waking moment

Then one blessed day I hear a commotion outside as trucks pulled in and there he stood with his bat and a white shirt, dad was gone on a run so Negan could wander around and do as he pleases, so this is the perfect opportunity, I check myself in the mirror quickly before quickly leaving the house leaning against the porch railing as he approaches closer until his eyes catch mine

“If it isn’t my favorite girl, did you get sexier from the last time I saw your fine ass” he called out as he marched up the steps standing even closer than before

“Maybe….maybe for you” you whispered

“And she speaks, have you been thinking about me angel?” I nod enthusiastic feeling drunk just being in his presence

“How does an ass like Rick have such a delicious daughter”

“He’s not that bad you know, just not very fond of you, even though you’re mouth watering” his eyes blew wide but the smirk stayed

“And she’s got a feisty side too her mmmmm” his hands grip my hips as he pulls me closer it’s driving me wild

“What a sweet treat” he leaned down closer until the door pulled open and there stood Carl with Judith in his arms

“Y/n what the hell are you doing, dads gonna kill you” carls eyebrows furrowed in anger, even though I’m older he’s always been protective

“Don’t worry little shit, she was just greeting me like a good girl” I looked away feeling embarrased of being caught

“Come on I wanna see where Rick stays” he says a he takes my waist and leads me inside, he looked around before heading to the kitchen where he started taking out ingredients

“What’re you doing? Taking our stuff isn’t enough for you?” Carl groans

“Carl……” I whisper telling him to quit it

“Just gonna make this lovely lady here some spaghetti how does that sound sunshine?”

“I’d love that” I smile feeling that burst of excitement again, I feel Carl grab my arm and drag me back to the living room

“What’s going on with you are you insane, you know what he did, he killed Glenn and Abraham, he almost killed dad, he’s evil”

“I don’t know I’ve never felt like this before” his expression softened understanding my situation

“Just…..be careful” I know what I was doing….what I was feeling was wrong and everyone would be mad at me but it feels so right when I’m around him

I walk back into the kitchen sitting at the counter as I watch him cook up a meal, I felt like a princess

“What’re you cooking?” I smile as I lay my chin on my hand watching him with awe

“Spaghetti, been craving it like crazy……not the only thing I’ve been craving baby girl” he smirks as he sends me a knee weakening gaze

It took me a minute to compose myself, I gather what courage I can and walk around the counter leaning back against it right next to him

“Well why don’t you have a taste” I look up at him as I dip my finger in the sauce and stick it in his mouth feeling him suck it off slowly, his tongue circling it

“Mmm what a little minx” he bends down wrapping his arms around my waist pulling me close, my toes barely touching the floor, our lips so close

“I need you Negan” I whine feeling like I’ll go crazy if I don’t get him right now

“You’ve got me” his lips press against mine slowly easing into the feel as he gets more passionate and rough but I love it, he picks me up and sits me on the counter as I grip his hair

“Damn baby how have I been missing out on this the whole time” he groans his hands squeezing my thighs

“What the hell is going on here?” I jump at the sudden yell and we both look over to see my dad and Michonne standing in the doorway

“Ummm…..nothing?” I don’t know what else to say feeling a lump in my chest

“Calm down Rick she was just…..greeting me to your lovely home” Negan laughs only making dad angrier

“Y/n get away from him now” Michonne commands

“I’m not a kid Michonne and you can’t tell me what to do, he’s not gonna hurt me…..right?” I look back up at Negan as he smiles gently

“Never, you’re all mine sweetheart”

“See, I know you’re mad at me and you wanna kill him but…I can’t help what I feel for him” michonne and dad both sigh

“Cmon Rick if you let me have her, I’ll let your community go” they stop dead in their tracks stunned

“Just like that?” Dad questions

“Just like that, it’s a good deal, it’s not like you wouldn’t still see her”

“This what you want?” Rick asks with a hint of worry

“Oh definitely”

[sheriffgrimes-archerdixon]

The hat

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

-

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

[coqvttes]

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ - ❝ 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢'𝐦 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥, 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐫 ❞

[sunnybunnyy2]

Dark Cell

Daryl Dixon x platonic!reader

Negan smith x daughter!reader

WORD COUNT: 1.1k TIME: Season 7 Warnings: imprisonment, mentions of saviours, mentions of Glenn and Abraham, mentions of dog food

Series Masterlist

Daryl could feel the gazes on him as he swept the outside of the Sanctuary. Most of them were laughing and taking joy out of his humiliation, others were with pity.

Most of the pity looks were coming from the women and the others were from men that had gone through a similar situation as him before they had rolled over and submitted to Negan.

Negan

Even the name left a bad taste in his mouth, the mere thought of thinking of the heartless man caused vile to raise up his throat before he pushed it down to continue with his daily punishment.

He would sit in his cell for two days, sitting in the pitch black, the only sound that filled the small space was the heavy foot steps of those who walked by and the maddening sound of ‘easy street’ booming on replay. The only food that was spared to him was the leftover bread and expired wet dog food. Then he would be put to work for two days, working for sixteen hours a day before being returned to his cell for Dwight to humiliate him all over again.

Sometimes if he got lucky Negan would bring him to Alexandria and even if it was to make a joke out of him, he craved to make sure his family was okay.

It killed him that he couldn’t reach out and hug his family, his brother and he knew it killed Rick too.

He knew how Rick was, he cared more about his people then he did himself. He would always put himself in harms way to protect his group and it was in his best interest to just cooperate with Negan and his demand to save everyone in Alexandria from suffering the same fate as Glenn and Abraham had on that fateful night.

A hard shove snapped him out of his thoughts as a saviour glared up at him from his slightly smaller frame and as he did he finally caught your eye.

He realized you must’ve been around Carl’s age, you were wearing light blue jeans and an orange sweater that dipped down the shoulders, your eyes tightly locked on his face.

He turned his head back to the task at hand and continued his work not wanting to receive an unnecessary punishment.

It almost caused embarrassment to consume him. He was never like this, he would never cower in fear of somebody. He promised himself he would never back down but for the well-being of everyone in Alexandria, he swallowed his pride and allowed himself to be made a fool.

….

He heard light foot steps making there way down the hallway. He had just assumed a women would be on night watch, he certainly wasn’t expecting you to be opening his small, dark cell.

His questioning eyes watched you as you left the door open a small sliver, just enough to shine a little light into a certain part of the cell but left it closed enough that it wouldn’t be noticed if someone had decided that, that was the best time to look down the doomy hallway. A small plate was in your grasp leaving a sick feeling in his stomach at having to eat another dog food sandwich, but his worry was quickly put to rest when you took a seat in the corner closest to the ajared door.

“I’m not here to hurt you. I promise.” You finally spoke as you noticed the look he was giving you.

He noticed you look down at the plate before slowly sliding it over to him and it was just then that he realized it’s contents. It was two sandwiches, they were made with white bread, some kind of cold cut meat and they contained lettuce, tomato and what he assumed was mustard.

“It’s for you. Sorry I couldn’t make something else, It’s just really late and the cook went out for a smoke break so it was all I had time to grab. I wasn’t really sure what you liked so I just assumed. I hate tomatoes and mustard but I didn’t think you did.” You rambled on anxiously toying with your fingers as you looked at him, and as you did you noticed the reluctant look on his face.

“Go ahead, it’s okay.” He looked at it for a few more minutes, silence filling the room as you stared down at the ground before your eyes snapped up at the sound of him grabbing the plate before stuffing his face with its contents.

You heard a sound leave his lips as he ate the most fresh and real food he has had in more then two weeks.

“Hopefully it’s okay, I mean it has to be better then what they feed people over here.” There was no response only the sound of chewing filled the room. Normally the sound would make you cringe but you were just happy he was finally eating something good.

It only took a few minutes for the sound to dim into nothing as he quietly placed the plate back where you had originally placed it.

His eyes left the floor and met yours through his dark hair, and he looked at you for a moment before he gave you a slight nod.

If you hadn’t been paying close attention to the larger man you wouldn’t have noticed but you were. You could see the uncertainty in his gaze as well as the appreciation.

“I can bring you something else next time. I might just cook it in my room and try and bring it to you a bit earlier.”

He just continued looking at you, as if to decipher if you were lying or not before looking away.

“Is there anything you like?” You asked turning your head to try and catch his eye but it was useless.

You let out a light sigh in understanding before reaching to grab the plate, slowly pulling yourself to your feet as you pushed the door open quietly and just wide enough to squeeze through. As you did so you were halfway through the door, when you heard the deep but scratchy voice.

“Thank you.” As all that was said and when you turned your head you saw him now facing you. You couldn’t see his eyes due to the lack of light and his long hair but you could only assume he was looking at you.

A smile pulled at your lips as you mutter an “Of course.” Before you finally exited the cell, quietly closing and locking it as you tiptoed your way to your overly large room. When doing so your eyes landed on the watch on your wrist that read 2:10 am, thank god your dad was asleep.

[pixie-ass]

Daryl Dixon and the Farmers Daughter

"You think I'm pretty and I like the way you talk"

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

"I think we're going to get along

I like the way you wear your sweater off your shoulder

The way your hair come down and make you look older

How you get so handsome, my boy?"

video credits- made by me!

ive had this stuck in my brain for so long, need to be daryls farmer girlfriend brainrot, might write a fic if I can figure out how to get my words together!

[winitry]

I need uncle Merle dealing with a roady teen daughter Dixon 🙏🧍🏾

i was pretty sure anon was asking for a rowdy teen dixon so this is you... kinda being a little shit 🫵🏻🤨

⛧°｡⋆༺♱༻⋆｡°⛧

uncle!merle and teen!reader

⛧°｡⋆༺♱༻⋆｡°⛧

• merle honestly thinks you're hilarious

• man, he could listen to you all day

• he loves that you're not afraid to be yourself even when some of the more tame personalities around you like to give you the side-eye

• you seemed to take after the loud and mischievous parts of your uncle merle, and all of the hotheadedness that daryl used to have

• you know how whenever a fight breaks out, daryl's just like "fuck it we ball"? yeah you take after your dad in that aspect

• when you get into fights, your uncle merle backs you up literally every time, even if you started it

• when you're the one that started it, daryl's trying to reprimand you and merle's just like "that little shit's been askin' for it anyways"

• god it pisses daryl off. he's trying to teach you to be more considerate with your actions so you don't end up in some of the situations he's gotten himself into, and here merle is just acting like you were justified when he doesn't even know the story

• HOWEVER, everything has a limit and when you really start to act reckless or lash out and disrespect daryl, he takes it seriously

• especially if you're disrespecting daryl

• you two would actually get into an argument about it. you don't see what the big deal is, and uncle merle is NOT having it

• you honestly weren't prepared for the way he laid into you

• "you think this is damn funny? you ever seen them scars on your daddy's back? our daddy would have put us six feet in the ground for the shit yer pullin'. he didn't make us dinner, he didn't give us a hug when we were sad, he sure as hell didn't try'n talk to us when we were actin' out. you know what he did? he beat our asses til' we cried and bled. a belt, a switch - shit, he would'a used a whip if he had one. you got a good daddy, girl. he loves the shit outta you. he ain't never raised a hand to you. hell, he ain't hardly even raised his voice at'cha. you better be real grateful for what'chu got and stop actin' like you ain't got no sense. you ain't that damn stupid. now you take your ass in there, give yer daddy a kiss and tell 'im yer sorry 'fore i lose my damn patience."

• talk about being humbled...

• he's definitely not as patient as daryl tries to be with you when your behavior goes too far; he's straight to the point and tells you when you need to cut shit out

• outside of putting yourself in danger or disrespecting your dad though, he really just lets you be yourself. he admires the way you resemble different parts of your family's personalities even if others don't seem them as very admirable. he knows he isn't one to talk about minding manners or playing nice with others and he doesn't care to as long as you're safe and remember to show respect to the people that are looking out for you

[boygiwrites]

Harley D. Dixon 28

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Author's Note.

I was lying last time. That wasn't a biggun. THIS is a biggun.

'Be careful, Dad.'

'I will, baby.'

I realize the others. 'Oh. And you too, I guess.'

'Real funny,' T-Dog signs, unimpressed.

The strongest of our group spare us no last glances as they turn away, with only five bullets and a handful of bolts between them. I sit next to Lori on the small bench, watching their backs retreat. The Thanton Memorial hospital. There it is, tall and beige like a school, but really more of a Hellbox filled with nasty surprises behind each one of the hundreds of little black windows. Glad it ain't me.

God. Nine miles. Two days. Sharpsburg, East of nowhere. We really made it. I guess I knew we would.

'You know this place.'

Herschel's already looking at me when I turn to him, his moustache curled around a smile.

'Just a feeling,' He adds.

'You're a mind reader,' I decide, regarding him with suspicion.

Herschel Greene; a wizard disguised as a Georgian farmer. I knew there was something up with him.

He doesn't respond, because I guess he don't want his cover blown. That or... Well, he's waiting for an answer.

'My Momma lived in this town.' Is all I supply him with after a time, because it ends the same way most stories do.

'I'm sorry.'

I shrug. It ain't anybody's fault. 'I don't know why I didn't tell nobody.'

'This town means something to you. We don't always share things like that.'

I guess. 'What about your Momma?'

'My Mother died when I was fairly young.' He admits easily, like somebody at peace. 'One day, my brother and I noticed she'd gone out into the rain to water the plants, and things were never quite the same for a long time after that.'

Oh. I've heard of that. People getting old, forgetting where their bedroom is, who their kids are.

It's hard to imagine Herschel as just a boy with a Momma.

Some days, it's even hard to imagine myself as just a girl, even though that's what I still am.

I offer him a lame smile.

'Let's talk about something a little happier,' He suggests, while over his shoulder, a flashlight glares across the inside of one of the second storey windows. 'I'm starting to think it's the end of December. That would mean it's Christmas soon.'

The light disappears.

I ignore it.

If only them pharmacies we checked this morning had anything in them besides rat shit and dust.

'Jesus' birthday party,' I muse.

That gets him to laugh. I think he's tryna distract me. 'Yes. It could even be tomorrow.'

'Really? How do you know?'

'Well, I suppose I don't. Do you like Christmas?'

Everybody likes Christmas. That is, at least, everybody likes presents.

'Yeah. My Meemaw had a really pretty tree.'

'The minute it turned December first, Maggie and Beth would always force everyone to put up ours.'

'Do they believe in Santa Claus?'

'Not anymore, I'm afraid.'

'And you?'

His eyes glint mischievously. 'Of course I do.'

I consider it. 'I don't think I do. I don't believe in the Easter Bunny, neither.'

Or God, but that's a different story.

'They didn't ever come to your house?'

'They came a few times, but I think they forgot about us. My friend Dylan said they're made up. The Christmas after that, I stayed up late to spy on Santa, but I just saw Merle and Dad carrying presents in from the truck. I never told them.'

'I guess Santa was too busy that night.'

'If he is real, I hope he's okay. The Easter bunny has lots of chocolate to eat, but... Santa might be hungry.'

I wonder if the walkers have made it to the North Pole yet. Knowing those assholes, they definitely have.

'You forget; — Santa has magic.'

'That's how he makes the sleigh fly, right?'

'Right. And all those cookies and all that milk... Well. He's got more than enough to last a lifetime.'

'So, you think he's okay?'

'I'm sure of it.'

'I would like some cookies and milk, too.'

The old man only laughs again, giving my knee a gentle pat as Carl leans forward, his mouth moving around some words.

When the boy gestures to me, Herschel translates.

'He asked me what we were talking about. He wants to tell you it's okay; Santa forgot about him too, one year.'

Carl sends me a thumbs up, trusting that the message got across well enough.

It did. I feel my smile widen.

It's wiped away when Lori suddenly lurches forward between us. Her chest wracks, wracks, wracks, a soft wad of phlegm flying past her lips and landing at her feet. My hand goes to her shoulder, squeezing reassuringly, as if that's gonna do anything useful. Her lungs, they must be clogged up like sponges filled with yoghurt, all that sickness and junk coming back up the way it went in.

Herschel's on his feet, bringing his thin hand down on her back, knocking the phlegm out of her.

I glance over my shoulder.

Lights; more of them, swooping over the glass, appearing and disappearing and reappearing.

A gunshot lighting up a window.

Please be okay, I think. Lori won't make it like this.

Facing forward again, Lori's got her hand splayed over the base of her throat, coughing dryly. She takes the water bottle Carol is offering to her, and gulp, gulp, gulps down the last of what's inside, deflating when she's done, cradling her big belly.

Are you okay, I ask aloud as I loosen my grip on her, hoping it sounds how it's supposed to sound.

She smiles at me in the slightest of ways, putting her hand over mine before I can pull it away.

She nods, I'm okay, honey.

I nod back, because that's good. I don't believe her for a second, but that's good.

'There was a gunshot,' Beths signs to me, then.

'I know. I saw.'

She continues signing even as she turns to Herschel, a habit by now. 'That was loud.'

'Don't worry. Anything that heard it will be too slow to make their way over here.'

'I hope so.'

We sit without talking after that, watching the windows of the hospital light up with gunshots every now and then, as if it were a football game on TV. I count them, the flashes. The one I saw while Lori was coughing, that's one. That one there, that's two.

Rick used to talk about the day he woke up in the Grady Memorial Hospital sometimes. Right now, the only parts of the story I can remember are the ones where he'd hesitate to continue, staring at something in the fire the rest of us couldn't see, before he muttered about the way there wasn't one wall in the entire building that wasn't dirtied with blood, not even in the children's ward.

Hospitals just ain't what they used to be, is what I learned from him.

There's definitely more than just rat shit and dust in there.

I glance at Beth, asking her, 'Any noise?'

Her lips crumple into a thin line as she answers, 'Nothing.'

Just when I swear Herschel is about to bow his head and start praying, the front doors swing open.

Mouse perks up, his tail ramrod straight.

That's Dad, T-Dog, and Maggie walking out.

Where's Rick and Glenn?

The three of them are panting, dishevelled, but nobody hurt. Nobody bit. That's always the first thing I look for.

Thing is, though, they're all looking at me like I've won a shitty prize and I just don't know it yet.

What now?, I almost feel like saying, but don't.

The further in we walk, the darker it gets.

Does anybody really like the dark?

The flashlights carve out pockets in the walls and floors around us as we make our way down corridor after corridor. My heart skips a beat each time we pass the body of a patient or a nurse or a person in regular clothing, all with a bolt or a bullet buried somewhere inside them. We sidestep their limp arms in turn, their puddles of blood. I ain't ever been in a horror house before, but I imagine this is worse. I imagine it'd prolly feel a whole lot less like you're being walked to the gallows for execution, and that the blood would be fake.

If I had my locket, it would be clutched between my fingers right now, but the soft spot beneath my throat is completely bare. When I woke up this morning to my empty palm, I knew right away what'd happened. I didn't bother to ask what he did with it.

Passing another body with a bolt skewered through its face, my Dad reaches for it, pulling it out.

Clicking it back onto his bow, he notices me watching him.

'Keep going, baby.' He signs to me, black blood smeared down the side of his neck. 'Not far, now.'

T-Dog comes to a stop in the middle of the corridor a minute later, his flashlight revealing Glenn and Rick standing together just up ahead. Not hurt. Not bit. They look up from what they've been doing, which looks like taking turns kicking the wall.

T-Dog lowers the flashlight to their feet.

There it is.

The Harley-sized hole in the wall.

Now that I'm looking it, I can see what they meant. Nobody else is fitting through that thing, not even Carl.

Still no use, is the sentiment written all over Rick's face.

It looks like they've tried their best to widen the gap, but it's made out of solid brick and we're fresh outta jackhammers.

Will she fit? 

Yeah, I think so, Is the gist of what I can tell they're saying to each other.

We got this piece off here, but it the rest isn't budging. We don't have any bullets left to shoot it.

Maybe... we can do what I said before? Find another pharmacy?

Sure. When you find one within twenty miles of here, you let me know.

You're right. That was dumb. Sorry.

There are no other options. The medicine Lori needs is in that room, and it's like I said. She won't make it, otherwise.

'Listen. There are keys on the desk.' Dad explains to me, his stern expression contoured harshly by the flashlights surrounding us. He takes my wrist, guiding me to crouch with him at the base of the wall, pointing through the cracked bricks. I strain to make out the desk with the keys at the back of the room on the other side, before I meet his gaze again. 'Do you see them?'

'Yeah. I saw them.'

The desk ain't the only thing in there.

'We need you to grab them and unlock the door for us.'

We both know I also saw the walker standing idly in the corner, head bowed to the floor, waiting.

'We'll be able to kill it when the door is open.' He adds when I don't respond, as if he needed permission. 'I can't from here.'

'My heart is beating fast.'

He nods. 'That's a good thing. And this meathead is dumb. Are you dumb?'

I puff my chest out, shaking my head.

'That's right. You don't need to hear them when you're smarter than them. You're always smarter than them. Okay?'

'Okay.'

That's what he's told me ever since I went totally deaf. I don't need to hear them when I'm smarter than them. It's not as if we've had the opportunity to test the theory out, since there's so little walkers that I ain't had to kill one yet, but I trust him.

Twisting around, he gestures for Glenn's flashlight and catches it easily, giving it a few test clicks.

He hands it to me. 'Remember what I taught you?'

I give a nod, feeling the weight of Merle's knife sitting in the sheath on my thigh.

'Good. And be careful of the glass on the floor, okay?'

'Okay. I got this.'

I can do this. I gotta, for Lori and the baby. It'll make for a funny story one day, anyway. I can do it.

'You got this.' He agrees. 'It's gonna smell you, but you're not gonna panic. Easy stuff.'

'Easy stuff. Okay.'

'Okay?'

'Okay.'

With one last look at the group, I take a deep breath and grab onto one of the exposed bricks, contorting myself until my head and one of my arms is through the gap. I pause for a moment, trying not to breathe too much as I watch the walker follow invisible patterns along the floor with its eyes. Once its head is tilted away from me, I brace my hand on the floor, pushing myself through.

Oh, God. What was it I just said? I can do this?

The flashlight blinks on and off as I land on the other side, grabbing it, giving it a shake.

The desk is illuminated in a circle of light, centre stage.

The dead body twitches in the shadows. I slowly get to my feet, silently warning it to stay right where it is if it knows what's good for it. I'm smart. I can read and write now, and my Dad taught me how to stab the thigh first, so the walker will collapse and make it easier for me to reach whatever cavity I can stick my knife in. If this thing gets too close to me, it's gonna get the Dixon treatment.

Uh huh. That's right, I scold it, chin held up. The Dixon treatment. Ain't nobody want that!

The pieces of glass on the floor glint in the light as I tip toe my way through them, stepping up to the desk.

Dad said the keys are here. I saw them. They should be right here amongst these dusty papers — Ugh, God, don't sneeze. Don't. — or maybe even on this folder? What about the shelves above the desk? How could they just disappear?

When I turn the light on the walker, it's looking at me, eyeballs wet, reflecting the light.

It's smelt me.

That's okay. I'm okay. We knew it would.

It starts its slow shuffle towards me as I turn my attention back on the desk, casting about it twice as quickly now, batting the alarm clock, the pen pots, the stethoscope, everything out of my way and following all the pencils and random office supplies down to the floor. Kneeling, I look around, making sure the keys haven't gone down with them or fallen between the desk and the cabinets.

A glint of metal.

I gasp. They have!

I must've accidently knocked them off while I was choking back all that dust in my face.

I stick my hand into the slim gap, but — Ugh. — I can't get it any farther than my knuckles!

I'll have to make it wider.

Abandoning the flashlight, I grab the side of the desk, using all my strength to shove it even just one inch to the side.

Shit, it's heavy. They got bowling balls in here, or what?

The wheelie chair bumps into my ankle. I act on instinct, my hands shooting out, bracing against it. I look up. The walker's slouched over it, reaching for me. My elbows, they buckle. Shit. The seat slams into my shoulder — Ouch! — but you know what. This'll do. This works. I just need these stupid keys. I ignore the walker and its stench of old meat, focused on nothing but the keys.

I'm not gonna panic. It's what I used to do, but I've learnt since then. I'm better!

A couple shoves, and the gap is just wide enough, wide as it's ever gonna be.

Easy stuff. Easy stuff.

The seat suddenly gives way. The body rolls, cracking its cheekbone on the floor. Don't matter. I got the keys. I'm back on my feet and running to the door, feeling out a random key and shoving it in the lock, twisting it. It's the right one. The door opens.

Maggie pulls me out by the arm. It's if there's a fire blazing behind me and I'm about to go up in flames.

That's it. I'm out!

I fall into her stomach, protectively held there.

Thank whoever's still up there. Or maybe, just thank me.

Rick and Dad push past my shoulders, marching into the room and unsheathing their blades, powerfully driving them both into the walker's skull. Blood splatters as they yank them out, droplets landing across the glass cap of the flashlight on the floor. It tints the light and everything it's cast onto a bright red, flickering. Dad picks it up, wipes it on his thigh, and hands it back to Glenn.

Grinning proudly to myself, I hold up the keys up like a trophy head for everyone to see.

Maggie releases me, smiling breathlessly down at me in relief.

'Well done,' T-Dog exclaims with his hands, sharing a high five with me.

Kneeling in front of me, Dad cups my face in his hands. He don't give a damn about the keys. Are you okay?

'I'm okay. The keys were down the side of the desk. I couldn't reach them. I had to—,' Shoving at the air, I enthusiastically mime the struggle, making Maggie chuckle behind her hand. 'The walker was trying to get me through the chair.'

He smiles, wagging his thumbs across my cheeks before lowering his hands. 'I told you. Meatheads. But not you.'

'Not all the time, anyway.'

'You should've come back out when you couldn't find the keys.'

'Sorry.'

'It's alright. There won't be a next time. You did good.'

Then, taking the keys from me, he stands back up and returns to Rick's side in the dark room.

I stay right beside Maggie and Glenn as they make quick work of the storage room door, pushing it open. Their torches illuminate the shelves on either side of them, which to everyone's relief, are completely untouched, lined with all kinds of medicine. It wasn't all for nothing. Without bothering to read many of the labels, they swoop their arms through the masses of bottles, catching everything in their open backpacks and zippering them back up, before nodding to each other and stepping back outta the small room.

Let's go, Rick says as he shoos us forward. We're all eager to get the Hell outta this place.

Stepping through Thanton Memorial's broken glass doors, daylight breaks across my face.

The fresh, cold air floods into my dusty lungs.

When Carl spots me, it's like the bench burns his ass. He's calling my name as he comes running at me, crushing me in a hug that almost sends us both toppling over into the snow. A giggle is squeezed from me as I hug him back, feeling my bones creak under the pressure. Wow. For somebody who ain't eaten anything other than a bit of rabbit for the past two days, he sure is strong.

Pulling away, he holds both my shoulders as he worriedly exclaims something to me.

You're the coolest, bravest person ever, I'm gonna assume is what he's saying, I don't know how you did it!

He pulls me in for another, quicker hug.

When Herschel appears over his shoulder, I get the real story. 'He's telling you we were all very worried.'

Oh. Is that right?

Ow!, The boy scoffs as I land a punch to his shoulder, forcing him offa me.

'Tell him he's talking to Harley Dixon,' I say.

As the sentiment is passed on, Carl rolls his eyes at me, making a retort.

'He wants to remind you of the time he hugged you after you cried from a nightmare.'

Ow!, He complains again when I punch him.

As he rubs sorely at his shoulder, he can't help but giggle along with me.

'Come on,' Herschel interrupts us, herding the two of us back toward the group. 'Very well done, sweetie.'

'I was only a little scared.'

'Of course. This is Harley Dixon I'm speaking to, isn't it?'

Too right. 'Yes, it is!'

Stepping up to the crowd, we gather around the bench as Rick takes a seat next to his wife, uncapping the bottle of water in his lap. Her face looks awful pale-like, paler than the snow packed under our boots. Still, despite the effort it must take, she manages a smile. Her hands shake as she takes the water, watching Rick tap a small bottle of pills against her open palm until two tumble out. 

Being trapped in that room was one of the scariest things I've done. I can say that, now. But as she tips her head back and swallows the pills down with a gulp of water, I'm hit with the feeling that I would do it all over again if I had to.

She sighs, body swaying. We can only hope that it works.

As Rick soothes circles onto her lower back, his gaze accidently meets mine.

'Thank you', He signs, looking like he means every bit of it.

His blue eyes start to water just like they did last night, except there ain't no fire I can blame it on this time.

I only give him a single, shy nod, grabbing onto my Dad's hand. He don't need to thank me. I love Lori, too.

Then to everyone else, he says it again; Thank you.

Carl's hugging me again.

I don't bother punching him this time. I don't wanna do it, anyway.

Being back in Sharpsburg is different to what I thought it would be.

Aside from the old blood smeared across the roads, the way everything seems to have gone through a nightmare and fell back asleep shortly afterward, Sharpsburg is the one place we been that has not bothered to rot away quite yet. There ain't no bombing craters where parks or stores used to stand, no toppled police barricades, army trucks, no bruises from the week everything ended.

Petey's general store is still exactly where it always was, right next door to the news agency, the record store, the locksmith. I don't keep my head down like I planned to. I don't pretend I never knew this place, or the people in it, because I did. I hold my chin up to the light of the setting sun as we walk through the forgotten town, unafraid of the memories I can see behind each and every door.

You know this place. I did. I do. For a long while, it was pretty much the only thing I knew.

Each weekend, I would jump out of Dad's truck the second he pulled up on the handbrake, door slamming as I ran into my Mama's open arms. It would be late afternoon, sometimes twilight. There was no school the next day, no quizzes or beatings to worry about. Not on the good days, not when I was cruising down the sidewalk on my bike with a dollar note in my hand, on my way to Petey's. He would always insist on letting me pick an ice cream out for free, but it never worked. Have-it-her-way-Harley, he always called me, the nickname a hearty chuckle in his mouth. The wind was in my hair on the way home, because I had one back then, dollar note replaced with a fruity-flavored glob of ice cream frozen to a stick. Sugar melting onto my fingers, washed away in the play pool after dark.

I used to do things like that. We all did, I suppose.

As we pass by an empty parking lot, I notice the rainbow streamers of a lonely, fallen bike blowing around in the wind like a white flag. I wanna ride a bike again. Just for a minute. Maybe two, I think, as I hold my gaze on it for as long as I can.

Eventually, we make it to a park. Of course, I recognise this place as well, and so does my Dad.

That's why I can feel him staring at the back of my head.

I never stopped to think about how he knows Sharpsburg, too. He was right there with me on the porch of Petey's store, most the time, smoking cigarettes in the sun with melted ice cream drying out on his collarbones. He remembers it, too.

We used to come to this park all the time; me, Momma, and Dad, on the rare days they got along.

I got to pretend I was a different kid looking in on the three of us and thinking, What a nice family. I wish I was her.

Now, the monkey bars look more like the giant ribcage of an old beast rather than something I'd wanna play on.

A shrivelled walker, curled over the seat of one of the swings, lets the wind brush its fingers along the ground.

Everyone has a Before.

Even that walker.

Even if our Befores were all very different, at least our Afters are all the same. We're all here, sick, hungry, tired.

The park's trees and fences fall away after a while of more walking, making way for a suburban street.

Coming to a stop in the middle of the road, the ache in my feet worsens to a pang, pang, panging.

'Everything alright?' Glenn's asking me as a wave of tiredness suddenly washes over me.

'My feet hurt.' I answer. 'And don't say sorry.'

'I think we're going to stop soon. Don't worry.'

Rick considers the houses lined up in front of us, hands on his hips, as Dad walks up to us. 'What's wrong?'

'Her feet hurt. And are you tired?'

I could fall asleep right here in the snow. 'A little.'

Even when I was lost in the woods outside Herschel's farm, I still don't think I ever walked this much and for this long.

Giving me a regretful look, Dad offers, 'Do you need me to carry you?'

'I'm a big girl,' I tell him, yawning.

'I know. I asked you a question.'

They wait on my answer. I think about fighting it a minute longer, but I just don't have it in me. I'm reaching up for my Dad before I even realize it's what I'm doing, letting him lift me onto his chest as I wrap my arms and legs around him.

I could've definitely handled it. Yeah. It's just that, maybe it's okay if I don't for a while.

I can already feel my eyes drooping shut. I'm gonna fall asleep right here.

It's suddenly a lot easier to feel like just a girl, now.

My chin hooked over his shoulder, I watch through my heavy lids as Rick does a double take on something laying on the ground, turning to pick up what looks like a fallen street sign. The moonlight swells over the clouds, spilling onto the metal.

Brushing the frost off, he reveals the words, Bolton Drive.

Bolton Drive. To me, this was always just Dylan's street.

If we turn left here, there's some bigger houses down the way. I think it's prolly what my Dad's telling the group right now.

We're on the move again right after that, heading further into the suburbs. I'm saved from walking, instead snuggling into my Dad. It's almost impossible to shield my face from the oncoming winds as I peek out over his shoulder, the moon a silver ball in the sky behind us. I bet it's just about the only place left without any walkers, including the North Pole. If I were a bird, maybe I would forget all about Earth and just fly up there. I could look back down on it all like from a faraway window, watching as it slowly spins.

At a harsh gust of wind, I close my eyes, and the moon and all the stars vanish.

Sleep sweeps me up quickly. My mind floods with murky colors, then black, swirling like a shower drain.

When I open my eyes next, we're approaching a house I don't recognise.

'Shhhh,' Dad's soothing me, looking about as exhausted as I feel. 'It's alright. I'm putting you down.'

My feet slowly setting on the ground, Maggie takes my hand before I get the chance to feel the loss of Dad's warmth. We wait shivering at each other's side as the men clear out the house. Rick eventually sticks his head back out, waving us inside.

Climbing the porch, we huddle into the narrow corridor and spread out into the nearest room, the lounge room. Dad's already got a fire going for us as we make ourselves at home on the sofas, the hot breath of the flames quickly starting to melt the frost stuck to my coat. I hug myself, breathing deeply and slowly to try fight off the urge to fall right back asleep. As I notice Carl approaching, I scoot over to make room for him and his Momma, who settles her weight down on the sofa with the help of Maggie and Glenn.

I feel a little bad for being carried, even if I needed it. Lori made it all the way here on foot, deep into a sickness and carrying a baby inside of her. A lotta people might think a lady like her is weak, but they'd be wrong. There's many ways to be strong.

My Dad stands from where he was knelt by the fireplace, peeling off his beanie and sitting beside me.

As I look around the room, all I see are tired faces.

Mouse plops himself between my feet, the poor guy's fur ice-cold beneath my hands as I give him some pats.

We'll be warm soon, buddy, I think.

Everyone's attention is stolen when Rick steps up to the front of the room, fiddling with his beanie in his hands.

He gulps on nothing, nodding to himself. 

'I know we're all very tired,' Herschel translates for me as the words come, even though his arms must feel like they weigh a thousand pounds. 'Been tired for months. But let's just make the most of this and try to relax tonight. We've got a fire. We've got walls. Medicine. It's a Hell of a lot better than those garages back in Newnan. T and I will melt some snow for us to drink, and we got some food we just found in the kitchen. We'll take turns for watch through the night, but there's not much out there. You saw.'

Carol hesitates to raise her hand, shaking her head as she asks a question.

We turn back to Rick. 'I don't know. I don't like staying in one place long, but I'm thinking there's only a few more weeks left until Spring. It's not impossible to think we can tough it out here. There's not many other options right now.'

It looks like we're staying in Sharpsburg for a few more weeks, then. At least until the cold dies down.

There are worse places to end up.

'Try to warm up in the meantime.'

Leaving us to stew in thought, Rick and T-Dog pull their coats on tighter and disappear through the archway.

'You know something?' Beth asks after a minute or two, the only light in the room coming from the fire. It lends her face a pretty, dim glow as she glances at her Dad sitting next to her.  'Daddy thinks it's gonna be Christmas tomorrow.'

Oh, that's right. I'd almost forgotten.

Glenn sends him a, No shit?, sort of look.

'I just figured it would be about that time.' He explains, making Maggie light up. 'I have a sixth sense for it.'

My Dad scoffs, shrugging. 'Well, I don't have a calendar. Why not.'

Wait? Really?

'So, it's Christmas tomorrow?', I ask him, as if we ain't just making all this shit up.

Something so simple, the prospect of waking up on Christmas morning tomorrow even if it ain't in no official way, even if we ain't even got a tree, let alone a star to put on top of it, sparks excitement throughout the room. Yes, it's Christmas tomorrow. From the smiles breaking out on everyone's faces, Maggie giddily gripping onto Glenn to give him a shake, I can tell it's Christmas tomorrow.

Feeling just a little bit more awake than I did a moment ago, I exclaim again, 'It's Christmas tomorrow!'

My Dad seems to find this very amusing, smirking side-long at me.

There ain't much to say in the way of how our Christmases used to go, especially the ones after my second birthday, but I still remember seeing the church all lit up with decorations at night whenever we happened to drive past it. I always liked that.

Carl must exclaim the same thing I did with almost twice the energy, because Lori and Rick laugh.

'I can't believe,' Maggie gushes, 'I forgot about Christmas!'

'It's not your fault,' Glenn jokes, petting her shoulder. 'We've been busy trying not to die.'

'Good point.'

'I'm sure the Lord will forgive you,' Beth says.

'Yeah. He started all this shit, anyway.'

Maggie waves her hand around. 'Hey. A little respect for the Atheists in the room?'

When everyone turns to look at me and Dad, a round of laughter breaks out.

'We're only in it for the presents,' He agrees.

I nod. It's true.

'Me, too,' Glenn says.

'I just wish I we had some,' Beth pouts.

'We're alive,' Herschel argues, looking around at each person in the room. 'There's no present better than that.'

Aww. That cheesy line earns him a funny look from Maggie, who pulls him into a deathly-tight hug.

'I think there actually might be something better.'

Glenn sticks a finger up, standing and disappearing into the kitchen.

When he returns, he's cradling a bunch of shiny wrappers in his arms, dumping them all onto the coffee table. Snack packs. Crackers and cheese, salami and cookies, bread sticks, peanut butter. Those really are snack packs! What a lucky find!

Nobody hesitates. We all grab one, ripping the seals off and huffing the tasty smell that comes out.

'You just found these in there?,' Asks Beth.

'Yeah,' He answers, flopping back onto the sofa. 'They were in the pantry. There's cans, too.'

'I'm in love with whoever lived here.'

Mouse is staring at me as I pick up a piece of salami, so I toss it into his mouth.

I save the next one for myself, groaning at the nostalgic taste of school lunches.

'Better?' Glenn signs to me like a smartass, knowing damn well this is the best thing I ever tasted.

I stick my food-covered tongue out at him.

Blehhh!

Unexpectedly, he does the same thing back. Eugh. Gross!

When Carl notices what we're doing, he sticks his tongue out, too. Even grosser!

'Come on. Enough,' Dad tries to warn me, buts he regrets it a second later when a wet glob of salami lands in his lap.

This is what Rick and T-Dog walk in on as they come through the archway, holding cookware filled with chunks of snow and ice in front of them. My Dad's smacking the salami onto the floor as if it were fresh dog shit, Carl and I trying not to choke on our food, laughing at him. Mouse spinning in circles like a lunatic, spurred on by the chaos, making Carol laugh like she means it. Not that puny, polite little chuckle she does sometimes; a full belly laugh, holding onto Maggie for support. They was only gone a few minutes.

Rick smirks as he shakes his head, deadpanning something to the effect of, I see you found the food.

They set the cookware in front of the fire and join us on the sofas. 

'Why's everyone so happy?', Rick asks as he sits on the ottoman, confused, delighted, because there has to be a reason.

'It's Christmas tomorrow,' I gladly tell him.

'Oh, really?'

T-Dog asks the others, 'Wait, what? How do you know?'

'We don't.' Herschel admits, throwing Mouse a cube of cheese. 'But we deserve a Christmas, don't we?'

Yeah, I see the word slip from Rick's mouth.

'We deserve some eggnog, too,' T-Dog adds, making himself laugh just like he always does.

'Tell me about it.'

'Cover your ears, kids,' Carol tells us, even though she's laughing, too.

I hear that right? As the deaf one outta the two of us, I jokingly gesture to my ears. I can't hear shit, anyway!

As everyone laughs all over again, my Dad reaches out to try and cover my eyes, but I bat him offa me. Nice try.

'You got the card, now, kid.' T-Dog tells me, like it's some secret club I've joined.

'I got the what?'

'The card. I got mine, too. 'Oh, yeah? Is it because I'm black'?'

Carol smacks him. 'Whatever.'

'Next time your Dad gives you in trouble, you can pull the, 'Oh, yeah? Is it because I'm deaf?'

That's silly!

'Don't give her ideas.'

'Too late,' I grin devilishly. 'I got the card, now, Dad.'

He rolls his eyes, trying his best not to laugh, too.

'You can't do that, Harley.' T-Dog mimes. 'Oh, yeah? Is it because I'm deaf?'

'What did I just say?'

Sorry, man, T-Dog chuckles, biting on a tiny bread stick.

What's eggnog, Carl asks his parents curiously, reminding us why we're talking about 'cards' in the first place.

Eggnog is a milky-lookin' drink that got booze in it, which is why Rick and Lori brush off the question. I tried it once, during a party at my Meemaw's, after one of my Uncles shrugged and said, Fuck it. Tasted like garbage sprinkled with cinnamon.

'Let's just stick with what we have,' Herschel suggests. 'There must be some other traditions we can do?'

'Our family used to share a favorite moment from that year,' Beth says. 'Maybe we can do that?'

'That's a great idea, Beth.'

'I got one.' Glenn raises his hand. 'Finding that car in Atlanta.'

'Oh, that was good.'

'Sad we had to leave it.' He agrees. 'I also liked the time I fell into a dumpster after we left the CDC.'

'What?,' Maggie scrunches her nose at him.

'Looking back at it, it was pretty funny.'

God dang, I remember that day. I was sitting off to the side with Sophia, watching the scene unfold together.

'Morales had to grab your ass to pull you out,' I tease him.

Rick tries to hide the fact that he's chuckling, as Maggie asks him what he was doing in a dumpster.

'We'd lost everything. We were searching for supplies, but I saw some yellow boots and I wanted them for Harley.'

Everyone croons, Awwww.

'I remember those boots, actually.' Beths recalls. 'What happened to them?'

'I fed them to the cows,' I shrug, so I don't gotta bring up the farm, where I left them in our tent the night it all burned down.

'Hey. I risked my life for those boots.'

Rick corrects him, 'I think you risked your ass, is what she just said.'

'It's what I said.'

'I got one.' My Dad says, dipping a cracker in some peanut butter. 'The day we put Glenn in the well.'

'Remember how he squealed?,' T-Dog giggles.

'No,' Glenn tries to convince us, doing a very bad job of it. 'I don't remember that. Never happened.'

'That walker was next-level gross.'

Next in the line to share, I decide, 'My favorite moment is when I found Mouse.'

'He loves you, doesn't he?,' Maggie smiles.

I throw him another piece of salami, hoping that the answer would be yes.

Carl tells everyone his favorite moment from this year was sneaking off into the woods with me, but his parents both give him a look, so he wisens up and changes his answer to something a little less totally forbidden; going to shooting practice.

When it's Lori's turn, she mentions a time she pushed Carl on the Greene's swing.

Rick's favorite moment is beating Herschel at checkers, something that the old man lets him get away with sharing.

'Gotta be seeing Daryl wake up after surgery,' T-Dog says after that, startling me with how suddenly sentimental it is.

The firelight flickers back and forth on the rug for a few moments.

My Dad subtly replies, Thanks, man.

'I was gonna say that, too,' I say to be funny.

'Yeah,' Glenn backs me up. 'You totally were. In fact, I change my answer, too. Favorite moment; Meeting Maggie.'

The woman pouts up at him, grabbing his hand, threading their fingers together.

'I change mine, too.' Dad says. 'The moment I found out Harley wasn't bitten.'

'That's mine, too.'

'Me, too,' Just about half the group nod, agreeing.

Then, everyone's coming up with different answers, talking over the top of each other. Bringing Harley back safe from the gas station, is T's second answer, but he also has a third and fourth and a fifth, because he just can't pick one. Making it outta the CDC alive. Finding the farm. Saving Glenn after he gave blood. Herschel's favorite moment is all the moments he's kept his daughters safe, an answer that earns him a big hug from both Maggie and Beth this time, because, I don't know what I'd do without my girls.

Rick and Glenn finding Daddy safe, Beth says, and then Maggie; That's mine, too.

I find myself with a hundred new answers, too. The moment Jacqui and I kicked up all them butterflies outta the grass as we ran to the house, after she told me my Daddy was alive. The morning Maggie made us scrambled eggs and tea for breakfast. All them times I shared a peach with someone while we sat in the sun. Lori making that joke about Maggie and Glenn being in love, and how I gagged at it back then. I can't forget about the time Carl hugged me as I cried, as Dad cut my hair, as I petted a cow's nose or fed a chicken.

All the little things and the big things, but also all the sad things. In a way, I'm grateful for them, too.

If Jacqui was here, or Sophia, or Momma or Meemaw, or my cousins, who could be anywhere by now, dead or alive, or Morales or Eliza or Louis or Miranda, who I ain't sure if I'll ever see again, or even our dog Tank, I like to think they'd be grateful for me, too.

'I told you, didn't I?,' Herschel smiles. 'No better present.'

After that — After Glenn starts to tear up and we all tease him for it — We decide to wrap it up for the night.

'I love you guys,' He blubbers, like we didn't already know, like we haven't almost died for each other a hundred times over.

Okay, buddy, Dad's saying, reaching to pat his shoulder.

'I think it's time to turn in.'

Beth covers her mouth as she yawns. 'Yeah. I'm so tired.'

'Tell me if anybody sees Santa Claus,' T-Dog says non-committedly.

'I'm going to grab the blankets and pillows from upstairs.' Rick announces, standing up. 'Who's on first watch? Me?'

I'll do it, My Dad offers, letting Maggie comfort Glenn, but he's turned down.

He was frostbitten from head to toe only yesterday. I wouldn't let him out there, neither.

I can do it, T-Dog decides, and that's that. 'Maybe it'll be me that sees him.'

No fair, Carl whines.

Rick leaves and brings back down a whole bunch of bedding that he plops on the floor, giving everyone free reign to pick out what they want as T makes himself scarce. I pull out a small pillow and what must be a toddler's blanket, letting Dad help me get settled on the sofa. I lay with my head against one arm rest, Carl resting his against the other. Both our Dads tuck us in.

'Goodnight,' He signs to me, knelt just beside the sofa. 'You still hungry or thirsty?'

I shake my head, yawning. 'Just sleepy.'

'You were very brave today.' He tells me, earnest eyes boring into mine. 'Not many kids would do what you did.'

'I just wanted to help Lori and the baby.'

'I know. They got a better chance, now.'

'Does that mean I get to name the baby?'

He smirks a little bit. 'We'll see.'

I glimpse Beth muttering to Hershel over Dad's shoulder, sharing a big blanket. I sign, 'Would Momma be proud, too?'

His face falls. The words hit him right in the heart, a poisonous bolt. All he says is, 'Yes.'

'Good,' I manage to reply, right before my eyes start to droop closed.

'Goodnight,' He signs again.

Placing a kiss to my cheek, my Dad pulls back and lays his own blanket down on the floor in front of me, laying facing the fire.

Rick was right. This is a Hell of a lot better than those garages back in Newnan.

I would like to help T-Dog spot Santa, I really would, but I just can't stay awake even one moment longer.

I'm being shaken gently.

Groaning, I open my eyes. Dad's face is inches from mine, all the windows behind him filled with grey daylight.

Adjusting the crossbow on his shoulder, he signs, 'Good morning.'

'Good morning.'

Sitting up, I groggily take in the sight of the group still laid out across the room, fast asleep. All except for Dad, and also Rick and Carl. I see them standing in the archway, both dressed for the snow just like Dad is, whispering to each other.

'Get your coat,' Dad says, and before I get the chance to ask what's going on; 'We're going searching for presents.'

We're what?!

After waking Glenn and putting him on watch, the four of us set out into the neighbourhood. The sun slowly rises from behind the falling snow, eclipsing the roofs of the houses around us and washing the morning in a soft, pink and yellow hue. It's quiet, peaceful, just how it always is before the day fully starts. Carl, Mouse, and I are rowdily running down the sidewalk, disturbing it all.

It's Christmas. According to us, it's Christmas, and ain't nobody here to tell us otherwise!

Dad and Rick follow after us until we make it to the park, the two oldies totally left in our dust as we make a beeline for the playground and pounce on the metal merry-go-round. It's been so long since I went on one of these. It feels like we're breaking a rule, a rule that nobody said aloud, but we ain't. Our Dads told us loud and clear that today, we're allowed to do whatever we want.

I'll spin us, Carl's laughing as he pushes on one of the handles, Mouse wisely standing back.

I still remember to hold on tight. Here we go!

Once he's picked up enough speed, he makes a jump for the platform. He skids around like a drunk, landing on his ass. He hugs the closest handle. The world spins into a multi-coloured smear. I just can't stop laughing, not even if I tried.

As the ride slows down, it feels like I'm 'bouta hurl up all that salami I ate last night.

Again!, I shout.

The next time we come to a stop, we round on the sight of Dad and Rick standing off to the side, watching us.

'Wanna get pushed?,' My Dad asks us, nodding to the swings.

I jump off the platform. 'Yes!'

Rick effortlessly peels the dead walker I saw yesterday offa the seat, throwing it aside and helping me on. I'on know how long we swing for, but the warm, pink sun spills and spills between the trees until it's on my face, making me forget the cold.

Spring is right around the corner, now.

This whole nightmare is almost over. I can just tell.

One of these days, the sun will crest the horizon and the snow just won't come.

It doesn't take long for us to make it back to town square.

'Where should we start?', Rick asks.

'I want to look in Petey's,' I answer right away, pointing to the storefront. 'But Carl can't come.'

Obviously, it's because I'm gonna be picking something out for him, which is why he starts giggling when Dad translates.

Rick ruffles the boy's hair, nudging him in the opposite direction. 'It's a plan. We'll search over here.'

'There's a toy store that way,' Dad adds helpfully.

'We'll check it out. Good luck.'

'Good luck. Watch out for elves.'

He laughs a bit as I whistle for Mouse, who runs after us. 'We will.'

Passing barrels of wrinkled flowers, Dad sticks his fingers between the automatic glass doors and forces them open, pulling his crossbow down as they roll apart on the tracks. Out of the darkness, a human-shaped shadow stumbles toward us.

It drops to the floor before it can even open its mouth.

Lowering his crossbow, Dad nods me forward, tugging his bolt outta the walker's wet face.

Look around, He says, wiping the blood off on his thigh.

The first thing I check is the comic section, of course. I'm hoping they got the series Carl likes, the one with the kick-ass astronauts and the evil aliens on the cover that I can't remember the name of. Captain Noel and the Astronauts, or something like that. I read it just the other week while he was dozed off, just to see what all the fuss was about. Weren't hard to see why he likes it.

As I step over a fallen sale sign, Mouse sniffs around the shelves, skulking around the corner.

Approaching the display stand, I skip right over the magazines and check out the comics, flicking through the covers. There's pictures of supervillain scientists, monsters, ninjas in impossible poses, wielding metal stars. They's all dumb-looking, so I'm sure Carl would eat them up like hot cakes for breakfast, but I really want the alien one. He been after the next volume since we met him.

There's a tap on my shoulder.

Hm?

Glancing up at Dad, I watch as he pulls a comic down from the highest rack, holding it out for me to see.

Captain Nate and the Awesome Eight, The quirky logo reads. 

Grabbing it up like it might disappear before my eyes, I feel the pages crinkle under my fingers. This is the one!

Volume Four, It says at the bottom. The final mission.

I hold up three fingers to Dad.

Understanding, he flips through the comics again before handing me the third volume.

I take it, hugging them both to my chest before signing, 'These are for Carl. He loves them.'

'Really? I thought they were for Beth.'

Pssh. He ain't funny. 'Let's keep looking. We need something for her, too!'

He puts the comics in my backpack for me, following me around the store to continue our hunt for the perfect presents.

For Beth, I find a couple bottles of nail polish in the tiny makeup display, throwing in a black tube-thing that reads, Mascara, along with them for Lori, or maybe for Maggie. I ain't sure. I ask Dad what he thinks, but he got even less of a clue than I do.

I decide to throw in a second tube and some eyeshadow thingies just to be safe.

For Rick and Herschel, we decide on a pair of woolly socks for each of them. You just can't go wrong with socks.

When we find some shirts with silly phrases on them, I know instantly that they would be perfect for Glenn and T-Dog.

Lastly, Dad makes us grab a bunch of random things that we need, like canned food and lighters, before we turn into the pet aisle. Mouse is there, nosing a package of tennis balls along the floor. He looks confused when they roll under the shelves. I crouch down, pulling them back out. It looks like he found his own present. He watches me stash them in my bag, pink tongue lolling happily. 

On our way out, I pass by the rack again, stealing a girly magazine off it that I think Carol will like.

Carl and Rick meet us back on the street, both their backpacks suspiciously fatter than they were the last time we saw them.

'How'd it go?'

Good, Rick says, as Carl tries to get a peek inside my bag. 'Want to swap?'

Before the boy gets to close, I fend him off, giggling as he wrestles me.

'Sure.' Dad pulls him offa me. 'Hard to get a present for your kid when they're right beside you.'

'Exactly.' Rick chuckles, offering his hand to me.

I take it, blowing a raspberry at Carl's back as he walks off with my Dad in the opposite direction.

The store Rick and I check out is the record store, Jameson's Jams, just across the way. After he scopes the place out, coming up empty, it's safe for us to go in. The smell of dust and plastic swarms us I look around at the tubs of record sleeves and CDs.

'It used to be tidy in here,' I sign to him, even though he could prolly guess that.

The doors close behind him, shutting the snow out.

' Did you go here often?'

'All the time.' I meander up to the nearest bin. 'My parents loved music.'

As I pick up an edgily-decorated sleeve that catches my eye, Rick steps up to my side.

'Something tells me their music taste clashed,' He jokes. 'Am I right?'

No. 'They both had bad taste.'

Scoffing, I throw the sleeve back, walking around to the other side of the tubs.

Chuckling to himself, he glances down at the record I'd been holding. It fits my Dad to damn T. I don't take it with me, though, because we ain't got no way to play it. It'd just be a waste of space, so I crack open a CD instead, taking out the paper.

Tossing the useless part back in the bin, I look up to see Rick already looking at me.

He's frowning, his brown hair poking out from underneath his beanie, curled over his faint wrinkles.

'What?,' I gesture impatiently.

What's he want?

I hate to admit it, but there's a little stain of bitterness left inside me after what he did to my Momma's photo.

It weren't like it was on purpose, but it didn't have to be.

'I'm sorry,' He signs, the tubs separating us by at least ten feet feeling more like a hundred.

'It's okay,' I brush it off. 'I'm not mad at you.'

'I know. Trust me, I can tell when you're mad at me,' He smiles for a fleeting moment. 'I'm apologising, anyway.'

'That was the only photo I had of her, you know.'

'I know.'

'Her name was Lindsey.'

'I know. Your Dad talks to me about her, sometimes.'

'Why did you throw it?'

He pauses, picking at a sticker on the wood before fessing up, 'Shane makes me angry, honey. I was angry. I threw it.'

'Angry? Not sad?'

'No. Not sad.' He shakes his head. 'We were all past that when we saw the truck leaving the farm.'

'He gave me the locket. My Dad threw it away the night you burned the photo.'

'Yes, I know. He talked to me about that, too.'

'He did?'

'He was going to let you keep it.'

'Why didn't he?'

'You know why.'

Yeah. I do. I don't even know why I asked that. He threw it away for the same reason I'm not allowed to talk about Ronnie.

Rick changes the subject, the tension in his shoulders melting away as he signs, 'Thank you. Again.'

'For the hospital?'

He nods. 'You were brave.'

'Dad said the same thing.'

'It's true. Even I would have been scared, and I'm thirty-four years old.'

'You're never scared.'

'I'm scared all the time.' I'm pretty sure he didn't mean to say that. I wait until he says something else. 'Thank you.'

Hell. He shouldn't make me laugh like that. I'mma breathe in all this dust. 'You're worse than Glenn.'

'What do you mean?'

'You can't stop saying 'Thank you'. He can't stop saying 'Sorry'. Feet hurt. Sorry. My ears ring. Sorry. It's funny.'

'He's sensitive,' Rick agrees fondly.

'I know. He cried last night.'

A muted chuckle. 'That's right. He did.'

As I look off to the side, something on the wall catches my eye.

Guitars. A lot of them.

Abandoning the piece of paper, I run over to them, stepping onto a chair and pulling down an electric guitar.

Rick is eye-level with me when he comes over. 'Your Dad said he knows how to play.'

Nodding, I give the strings a dramatic thrum.

It must be painful, going by the way Rick looks like he's just heard nails going down a chalkboard.

I can't help but laugh, turning to hook it back up. Like the record and the CD, it would just be a waste of space. Electric guitars don't sound so good if you don't got anything to plug them into. Acoustic ones, however, they're perfect anywhere.

Hopping onto to the next chair over, I pull down a classically wooden guitar, cold to the touch. 

When I strum this one, Rick gives a thumbs up. It'll need tuning, but that's a piece of cake.

Jumping down, I have a thought.

'How the Hell do we hide this from him?'

He looks the thing up and down. 'We might have to give it to him now.'

Aw. 'That's not as fun.'

'How about this — You hide behind me. When we see him, you jump out. Is that fun?'

Hmmm. 'Okay. Let's do that!'

Carl's a lot harder to appease than I am, which must be the reason Rick lets out a little sigh of relief. 'Great.'

'It needs a shoulder strap,' I decide, grabbing one from the rack nearby and ripping it outta the plastic. I try to figure it out, turning it over to get a good look, but then I just pass it off to Rick's mittened hands. 'You know how to put it on?'

'Let me try.' He accepts the challenge, kneeling in front of the guitar.

Buttoning each end of the leather strap to the metal attachments, it looks like he's got it.

He hands it back, raising his brows at me. 'Remember to jump out. We have to get him to crap his pants.'

'It's a plan.'

Before we meet back up, we stop by the thrift store next door so that Rick can grab the shirt he'd had in mind for Carl, a simple thing with a superhero he likes on the chest. As we leave through the front doors, Rick herds me in behind his back.

We're only waiting in town square for a minute or two before he signals me that they're coming over.

When I feel the time is right, I jump out!

Rahh!

Dad don't quite crap his pants, but his eyes do widen ever so slightly. In Dixon terms, he's chilled to the bone.

My back-up man watches on, laughing.

I hold out the guitar once the moment's passed, hoping it's obvious that this is his Christmas present.

Woah, breathes Carl as my Dad takes it carefully, Mouse's tail batting around wildly at his ankle.

We watch as he drags his thumb down the strings, remembering what it feels like. Slowly, he starts to smile.

Looking up at me, he seems very, very pleased. 'Thank you. I love it.'

'Merry Christmas!'

'We knew we couldn't hide it from you,' Rick explains, 'So we scared you instead.'

'Did it work?'

Dad nods, frowning as he mouths the word, Terrifying, before kneeling to wrap me in a hug. I kiss his cheek.

'Did you get everything you wanted?'

Nodding again, Dad stands and passes the guitar to Rick, seeing as he's already wearing his crossbow.

Pulling it on, Rick nods in the direction we came from. 'Let's head back, then.'

We make it only five feet before we notice Carl isn't following us.

Looking back at him, he points at the parking lot across the street.

We follow his finger.

Across the street, the lonely bike with the streamers still lays there in the snow, next to a couple other bikes.

We glance between each other, a glint of something cheeky in our eyes.

We're all thinking the same thing, ain't we?

It's a long walk, anyways.

Who the Hell bikes in the snow, is what a sensible person would ask themselves as they saw us race past their house.

We do!, is what I'd shout back at them.

We're zooming down the streets of Sharpsburg like we're late for a wedding, the most ridiculous sight the apocalypse ever did see. Rick, taking the lead just like always, with a guitar bumping around on his back as he pumps the peddles of a pink bike. Carl on the little one, its rainbow streamers blowing out on either side of him without a care in the world. Mouse, sprinting to keep up.

He's going so fast; I think his ears might just fly off and smack me in the face!

It's a challenge to not fall off the handlebars of Dad's bike just from laughing so hard.

I clutch onto it harder as we crest over the top of a hill. Rick goes flying down first, then Carl. Dad wraps an arm around my stomach, hugging me to his chest as we both laugh against each other. We're next. My stomach lurches. My toes go numb. Then we're free-falling, and the tyres are shaking beneath us and the handlebars are jiggling all over the place, the wind racing past us.

Sucking in a deep breath, I let out a shriek of, Wuh-Hooooooo!

My heart's beating outta my chest like when a walker's got me in its grasp, when I feel most alive.

Whatever day I've said is the best day of my life — This is it, now. Hands down.

Rick reaches the bottom first, doing a fancy little skid in the snow and glancing over his shoulder at us to see our reaction.

Carl gives him a thumbs down, making him laugh as he turns back around.

The hill flattens out into more suburbia.

We slow down to a more leisurely pace for the rest of the ride back, and simply enjoy the morning together, trailing the sidewalks like a bunch of kids. The sun is well into the sky now, shining through the frigid air without any clouds to cover it up.

When I spot the house in the distance, I'm almost sad.

As we pull into the driveway, bumping over the curb, Glenn stands from his seat on the porch steps.

Hey, guys, He's laughing, perplexed.

Rick answers him with a few flicks of his bell, braking to a stop.

Where'd you go?, He asks, as I jump down from the handlebars.

Carl dumps his bike on the ground and holds up his backpack, shouting, Presents!

He gawks. No shit?

No shit!, He exclaims, running straight past him and up the porch.

I catch Rick sharing a funny look with my Dad, but he lets the swear word go. It's that type of day.

The adrenaline-high don't leave my body even as I follow everyone inside the house, stepping into the busy lounge room. We're greeted by the rest of our group, who are more than awake by now, hugging us as we come through the archway. They're completely beaming. It's obvious. They've heard the great news — We went out in the early morning to do Santa's bidding, for no other reason than because we managed to live long enough to, and because we deserve it. For once, we can ignore everything else and it'll all be okay.

Shrugging off my backpack, I set it down on the coffee table. Carol and Herschel tidy away the empty snack packs as Dad, Rick, and Carl set theirs down, too. Everybody's eyeing the bags excitedly, tryna see if they can make out the goodies inside.

'You guys are sneaky,' T grins, wide enough to show off the gap between his two front teeth. 'Sneaky!'

'Where did you go?!,' Maggie wants to know.

She lounges back on the sofa, Mouse jumping into her lap.

'Town square.' Rick's looking livelier than he has all Winter; all year, maybe. 'We left while you were all asleep.'

T seems to have an epiphany. 'It's you guys!'

'What?,' He asks.

'You're Santa!'

Realizing the man is pulling our legs, Rick rolls his eyes.

Carl goes on to ramble all about our adventures. By the way he's miming it all out, I can tell he ain't leaving out our visit to the playground. Everyone's watching him with nothing but joy in their eyes, adding comments here and there, laughing.

When Beth notices the guitar, my Dad proudly shows it off to the room.

'Harley found it,' He signs, reigning everyone back in, reminding them to use signs. 'Pretty, ain't it?'

Herschel turns to look at me. 'What a wonderful, wonderful gift.'

'I got more,' I tease, giving my backpack a tempting wiggle. I can't wait to give out the rest of the presents!

'Let's just get right into it then, right?,' Rick suggests. 'Go crazy.'

That's all the permission anyone needs.

As the three of them open their backpacks and start handing out presents left and right, I get to opening mine.

The first things I pull out are the stupid shirts for Glenn and T-Dog, walking over to them and putting them in their hands. Maggie's laughing her ass off as they hold them up to their chests, cluelessly peering down at the text. I step back to admire my work. Sorry I'm late, T's shirt reads, and Hell, it's even funnier than I imaged it would be, I was doing my hair! I think he's laughing something like, You little punk, before he glances over at Glenn's to see the damage. I'm with stupid, His says, except the arrow is pointing at his face.

Aw Hell naw!, T-Dog unabashedly laughs.

'Put them on!,' I demand, taking the fabric in my hands. Glenn helps me out, pulling it over what he's already wearing and straightening it out so the message is on full display. T-Dog does the same thing, even if he does call me a punk again.

'How do we look?,' Glenn asks me and Maggie when they're done, giving a stiff twirl.

'Don't answer that,' T-Dog says.

I give Maggie her gift next, the Mascara. She plants a kiss on my cheek and pulls me in for a tight hug, releasing me so I can head over to the other ladies. Carol gratefully takes the magazine, Lori and Beth Oohing and Aahing over the makeup.

It's no 'Electric Spring Citrus', but Beth still seems very touched by the bottle of yellow polish.

Next, I pull out the tennis balls. Boy, does that get Mouse's attention. I rip off the seal, sending them all bouncing across the living room floor, almost tripping some people over. Mouse darts after this one and that one, chasing them all over the place as I hand the socks to Herschel and Rick. They're both delighted, taking turns giving me a hug. We was right. Ya can't go wrong with socks.

'Carl and your Dad have something for you,' Rick tells me as he pulls away, pointing over to them.

I tap Carl on the shoulder, and when the two of them turn around and realize me, his face lights up.

Harley!, He's exclaiming.

He digs through his bag and holds out my two presents. 

'Thank you!,' I sign, taking them. Oh, wow. A diary and a packet of colored pencils. I don't gotta squeeze my thoughts into the margins, no more. I got fresh, blank pages, enough to prolly last me a whole year. Giving Carl a hug, I hold up a finger; Wait.

Reaching into my backpack and feeling out the comics, I pause just to be dramatic, before I pull them out for him to see. His jaw drops as he snatches them up. All them months hearing him complain, and watching him read the same volume over and over, makes it all the more satisfying to see him flick through the pages, realizing with mounting horror that it's everything he dreamt of.

Thank you, He's shouting, Thank you!

'Wanna see what I got you?,' Dad says next. 'You can both play with it, but it's for you, okay?'

'Okay! Show me!'

Carl and I crouch down with him as he unzippers his backpack. What he pulls out is not like anything I would've expected.

A big, flat white box with a photo on the front of some kids kicking a soccer ball into a little pop-up goal in the sun.

'Can't play soccer without a goal.' He smirks as I take the box in my hands, ready to tear it open with my teeth if I gotta.

They both help me pick the tape off the cardboard, pulling it open and turning the whole thing upside down. The goal slides out. Having finally been broken out of the confines of its box, it immediately springs into shape, almost smacking us all in the face.

Dodging it with a laugh, I exclaim, 'Thank you, Dad!' 

'Do you like it?,' He asks.

'I love it! How do we set it up?'

Looking about, he finds a small baggie of metal stakes that fell out with it, and a page of instructions.

I lean in closer to take a peek as he skims over them, but it all looks simple enough.

'Easy,' He decides. 'We can set it up in the front yard, yeah?'

'Yeah. I'm gonna smoke you both so bad.'

Dad thwacks my arm with the piece of paper. 'Hey. Who said I'm playing?'

'Oh. So, you're scared.' I nod empathetically, feeling smug. 'That's okay. I'm rusty, too.'

'Seriously?'

'I only won three medals when I was in school.'

'I'm old, kid. I'm in my thirties. I'm pretty much dead.'

'Loud and clear. You're scared of losing.'

He rolls his eyes. 'You're a brat. Don't cry when you lose.'

'I've never cried in my life, Dad. Ask Carl.'

As soon as he passes on the question, Carl levels me with the most, Get serious, expression I ever seen in my life.

Whatever. 'I'll still win!'

'We'll see,' He says as I glance at the rest of the group.

'This was so thoughtful of you guys,' Maggie signs from her seat on the sofa, doing that little pout she does.

With all the presents handed out, I take my time looking around the room. T and Glenn are still wearing their t-shirts, of course. If I could have it my way, they wouldn't ever wear anything else. It looks like Rick and Carl gifted Glenn a magazine about race cars, and T-Dog a flashy, gold chain necklace that he manages to make look cool. Lori and Herschel are wearing new matching jackets, the material purple and puffy. They look like father and daughter, sitting there like that, Lori's head resting on the old man's shoulder. Beside them, Carol's blowing air onto Beth's painted nails, while Mouse lays on the floor, gnawing at the tennis ball he must've decided is his favorite.

And Rick. He's not pouring over a map. He's not frowning to himself as he cleans a gun. He's not snapping at one of us to, Stop that, We need to stay focused. He's just smiling faintly next to Glenn, refusing to reveal to anyone this was all his idea.

'I'm just glad there's no wrapping paper to clean up this year,' He chuckles, looking at Lori.

The woman smirks, shaking her head. Bad memories, I guess.

'Every year,' He continues, gesturing to an invisible pile in his lap, 'We would end up with this much.'

'You're not the only ones.' T-Dog scoffs, like this is a lifelong issue he's faced.

'Oh, yeah. You were a garbage man, weren't you?,' Glenn remembers.

'Minimum wage, brother,' He agrees, bringing the pizza-boy in for a bro-hug.

'What have you got there, Harley?,' Maggie asks as they pull apart.

'A soccer goal,' I excitedly answer, before holding up Rick and Carl's presents. 'And a diary and pencils!'

'I don't want you to think it's for schoolwork with Lori,' Rick says. 'Carl just told me he's seen you journalling.'

'I love it,' I shake my head. 'Thank you.'

That bitterness that I'd been feeling toward him, it disappears just as quickly as it came.

'You haven't been writing anything bad about me, have you?,' Glenn asks threateningly.

'Just a little bit,' I shrug.

'She's a brat, isn't she?,' My Dad jokes.

'She's a total brat.'

'Hey! I don't like you, either.'

'Well, Merry Christmas, everyone.' Maggie says to wrap things up. 'Time to take this outside. We got a game to play.'

'Sounds like it,' Rick agrees.

'Come on.' Dad stands back up, grabbing the soccer goal and the stakes.

Jumping up and pulling on Maggie's sleeve, I exclaim up at her, 'We should be on the same team!'

'Girl power,' She agrees, frowning stubbornly as we descend the porch steps.

Mouse goes running out into the snow with his tennis ball. Dad heads over to the fence, setting down the goal and pushing the stakes through the rubber loops to secure it to the ground. I tell him I hope he did a good job of it, because me and Maggie are gonna be making every goal we shoot for. It's Dad and Carl versus us two girls, so the competition is even fiercer. We gotta win!

'We got this,' Maggie goads as T-Dog takes up the goalie position.

Carol pumps her fist in the air. 'Let's go, girls!'

Everyone starts cheering us on as Maggie kicks the ball straight over to me. The game's begun! I stop it with my foot, watching as she skirts around Dad, shouting for me. I boot it back to her at just the right moment, running forwards.

Maggie dukes Dad, left, right, left, before she kicks it right between his feet and back to me.

I stop it again with my foot.

Carl's on me, suddenly. He tries to use his foot to steal the ball away from me, but I don't let him!

Keeping him at arm's length, I line up my shot with the goal. I've done it a million times before. What's one more!

I rear my foot back, and—!

T-Dog's far too big and slow to see it coming. The ball shoots right past him — Goal! — and crashes into the meshing.

'Point for the girls,' Rick announces from the sidelines.

Maggie runs up to me, grabbing my hands and squealing happily, with the boys sulking together in the background.

We end up winning. There's a few close calls here and there, but we're just too quick on our feet for them to really get any smooth moves in. As the winning goal is made by Maggie, Carl stomps his foot into the snow, complaining, Aww, man!

We use every last bit of energy we have left in us to play for the rest of the morning. For once, not just for getting out of bed, or making it through the day. We manage to get a couple more rounds of soccer in before somebody throws a snowball at my Dad while he's trying to kick a goal, and then it all devolves into a snowball fight. There's no teams or rules; just clumps of snow flying across the yard, people falling over, Rick laughing, and Glenn getting dogpiled to the ground until Dad has to come and rescue him from us.

Nobody's really winning, but I don't think anyone's keeping count, anyway. Nobody's losing, either.

Except maybe Carl, when he tanks a snowball directly to the face.

I gasp. Youch!

He wipes it off with a grin, scurrying off to start preparing some returning fire.

I hurry to join him behind the wall of snow, bulking up my snowball before launching it at one of the adults.

It hits Glenn in the jaw. He lurches; falls onto his ass.

Me and Carl share a high five!

To think I was dreading coming back to this town, when it's actually given me one of the best days of my life.

Is it bad I'm happy the world ended?

Probably, but I don't care.

FIVE MONTHS LATER.

I can hear light birdsong in the trees.

We've stopped again, on some highway or other. I'on know. They all look the same to me. Grey road, winding up a hill, flanked on both sides by a strip of dirt and twigs. While the others get outta the cars, slamming their doors shut and grouping together to discuss what's next, I turn my head away from them and gaze out the passenger side window. The sun warms my face. I remember back during the Wintertime; we hardly ever saw the sun. Hell. That was forever ago. Nowadays, we been fending off heatstroke, feels like.

I close my eyes, relishing in the sounds around me. Leaves brushing, idle engines rumbling.

There are a lot of moments like this for me, where I'll just ignore what everyone else is doing and listen. I'll listen to anything. The car radio, if anybody's got it playing, even if it's a song I don't like. A river flowing. A deer trilling. It's the best part of my day.

"We got nowhere else to go," Herschel's suddenly saying, and then I'm opening my eyes again.

The group is gathered around the hood of the car I'm sat up in, splaying a map out for them to study.

"When this herd meets up with this one," Maggie points, "We'll be cut off. We'll never make it South."

"What'd you say it was? About 150 head?" Dad estimates.

"That was last week." Glenn's shaking his head, squinting against the sun. "It could be twice that by now."

I've heard this exact conversation about thirty times over by now.

That herd from last year; It's thawed and split into two, and neither are getting any smaller. The more they walk, the more they pick up. It's how it's always gone. They been following us, and we been running. That's how that's always gone, too.

We had a couple places we holed up for a while. Sharpsburg served us well while it lasted, but we had to move, eventually.

Now, we're back on the run.

"The river could've delayed them," Herschel suggests. "If we move fast, we might have a shot to tear right through here."

"Yeah, but if that group joins with that one, they could spill out this way."

"So, we're blocked."

We're always blocked, I want to tell Maggie. You know this by now.

In moments like these, I think back to the day we had that snowball fight and try to remember what everyone's smiles looked like.

"Only thing to do is double back at 27," Rick says, "And swing back this way."

Rick's different. For Rick, I think back to the bike ride.

T-Dog's getting frustrated. "We picked through that place, already. It's like we spent the past five months going in circles."

"Yeah, I know. I know."

"Is this what we're doing, then?"

When Rick nods, T-Dog asks him, "Is it alright if we head down to the river to fill up on water, then?"

"Sure. Knock yourself out," He says as they disperse, Maggie rolling up the map.

Herschel whispers something to Rick, then, and I can't quite catch it. My hearing aids ain't that good, but I know it's about Lori because they glance over at her in the car behind me. It's probably the, She can't keep doing this, conversation. Like always, Rick's wiping his sweaty forehead, bullshitting his way through an answer, and like always, Herschel is patient with him. They know he's right.

Lori's about to burst, way her stomach's been looking these days. She's gonna give birth any day now.

I'm just glad she got better and stayed better.

That was a nasty sickness.

Herschel leaves Rick to think about what he's said, making an opening for Dad to ask him to go hunting.

I'm surprised when he turns to me. "You wanna come, chicken?"

There's that Southern twang I once forgot the sound of.

'Come hunting with you?,' I sign, just outta habit. Sometimes, my voice is just too loud for me to bare.

"Yeah. You can stretch yer legs a little. How 'bout it?"

Not wanting to spend one more second in this car, I agree by opening the door and jumping onto the tarmac.

He whistles for Mouse, and then we're walking into the treeline.

"Carl says it was blue, but the boy's blind," I ramble to Rick as we walk along the train tracks, keeping an eye out for animals.

"Between the pair'a ya," Dad muses from in front of us. "You almost make a full vegetable."

"Shut up, Daddy. You ain't funny."

He snickers a little before facing forward again, crossbow at the ready. "Sure I ain't."

"Anyway." I sigh as he pushes a leafy branch outta the way. Rick ducks under it, and then me. "Like I's sayin'—"

When I look up, the sight that greets me has all words dying on my tongue. I slowly catch up with Dad and Rick, who have also completely forgotten about the story I was telling. It weren't very interesting, anyway. Something about a frog Carl and I found the other day. The sun beats down on us as we look out over the sheer drop just in front of us, and at the rolling, green hills in the distance.

Well, I'll be goddamned.

That right there is a whole ass prison.

End Notes.

Okay that's it. I cannot edit this chapter any longer. What's done is done!!

WE ARE FINALLY IN SEASON 3 !! It only took a year and 28 chapters.

I'm very glad to be back in canon again, but writing Christmas with the group was so fun. Also very glad to be able to write Daryl's accent and slang properly again haha. It just didn't translate into sign language. I know some of you will also be relieved that we're not using it much anymore.

As always, I really hope you enjoyed!

Thanks for reading! Until next time! 💙 :)

[jamiejabbers]

Unseen Bonds

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Daughter Reader

(this is my first time writing please don’t hate but I’ll take any tips! hope you enjoy, xx)

The afternoon sun dipped behind the hills of Hershel’s farm, casting long shadows across the field. Daryl leaned against the porch railing, his eyes fixed on the treeline, though his mind wasn’t on walkers. It was on the girl he’d barely known how to raise.

Harley sat a few feet away, perched on the edge of the steps, her blonde hair tangled in the wind. She stared down at the ground, tracing patterns in the dirt with the toe of her boot. She was silent, as she often was, except when she was with Carl Grimes. Daryl watched as Carl approached her, carrying a small rock he’d found by the creek.

“Hey, Harley,” Carl said, a grin breaking across his face. “Look what I found. It’s got this weird shape, kinda like a dinosaur tooth, maybe.”

Harley looked up, her blue eyes brightening just a bit. “That’s not a dinosaur tooth, Carl,” she replied, a small smile tugging at her lips. “It’s a piece of quartz. Probably got chipped off from one of the bigger rocks by the river.”

Carl’s face flushed a little, embarrassed, but he shrugged. “Well, maybe you can teach me about rocks sometime,” he said.

“Maybe,” Harley replied with a shrug, but there was a playful glint in her eyes.

Daryl turned his gaze back to the woods. He wasn’t sure how to reach her, how to fix what Merle had broken in her. He’d tried to shield her from his brother’s rough ways, but she’d seen too much, heard too much, for him to ever pretend things were normal. She was smart, street-smart, like he was, and maybe that was part of the problem. She’d grown up too fast.

He saw Carl whisper something to her, and she laughed — a soft, sweet sound he rarely heard from her. His heart clenched in his chest. He wondered if he’d ever hear her laugh like that with him.

He grunted, turning away, but Harley’s voice stopped him.

“Daddy?” she called, her voice soft but clear.

Daryl turned back, surprised. She rarely addressed him so directly.

“Can I help you with something? Maybe... go hunting later?” she asked, her tone hesitant, like she was testing the waters.

Daryl blinked, taken aback. He scratched the back of his neck, trying to hide the small flicker of hope rising in his chest. “Yeah… yeah, alright. Could use another set of eyes out there. You gotta be quiet, though.”

Harley smiled, just a little. “I can be quiet.”

Carl grinned. “She’s better than anyone,” he added proudly.

Daryl gave a short nod, trying to act casual, but inside, he felt something shift — a small crack in the walls between them. Maybe, just maybe, they could find a way to bridge the gap that had always been there. He’d never been good with words, but maybe he didn’t need to be. Maybe showing her how much he cared in his own way was enough.

“Come on, then,” Daryl said, turning toward the woods. Harley stood, handing Carl the rock with a grin before trotting down the steps to join her father. She fell into step beside him, quiet but close.

For now, it was enough. They walked side by side into the thickening shadows, knowing that in this broken world, they’d face whatever came together, one step at a time.

[chloe-skywalker]

Won't Let It - Carl Grimes / Daryl Dixon

Carl x Fem!Reader

Daryl x Daughter!Reader (adopted-kinda)

Negan x Daughter!Reader (blood)

Warnings: TWD

Word count: 591

Summary: Some bullying towards Y/n shows Carl, Daryl and Michoone that she might need some help believing she’s worth something.

Author's Note: Carl didn’t die. Let's just pretend it didn’t happen because it sucked.

Masterlist

The Walking Dead Masterlist

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“We should throw her in with him!” Someone yelled out shoving Y/n hard into another Alexandrian.

“Yeah. She is the asshole’s daughter!” Another yelled shoving Y/n again and this time Y/n fell hard on the ground.

“Probably just as-”

“Finish that sentence.” Daryl said, pointing a knife at the throat of who was talking. When they turned to face the redneck they shut up and gulped. “I dare ya.”

“No one’s touching her!” Carl yelled out angry at everyone around as he walked over to help y/n up off the ground.

“Why not? After everything her father did to us?” Someone else questioned with disgust in their voice.

“y/n never had any part in it!” Carl glared at the Alexandrian.

“What are you both doing?” Michonne came over trying to defuse the situation.

“Protecting an innocent girl.” Daryl spoke up glaring at all the people around them.

“I’m not going to let anyone hurt you okay?” Carl turned to y/n.

Y/n looked at him with a broken expression. “Carl-”

Carl shook his head and led her off to their house before looking at her and holding her hands in his. “No, listen to me. No one touches you, talks shit to or about you. Nothing is going to happen to you. I won’t let it.”

“I won’t either.” Daryl spoke in agreement. She had helped him out when he was held prisoner at the sanctuary. They bonded there.

“Guys, I appreciate it. I do . . . But I’m not worth it.” Y/n shook her head with a sorrowful look.

“You are. You are worth it.” Carl pressed cupping her cheek’s getting her to look him in the eye’s trying to prove to her that to them she was worth it.

“Kids right. You're worth it. You’re family.” Daryl stated coming closer to them and resting a hand on her shoulder.

“I wish I believed that.” Y/n replied with her head down as she escaped both of their holds and went up stairs.

“I hate that she doesn’t think she’s worth anything.” Carl sighed frustrated and saddened that nothing seemed to get her to believe them.

“We can try and change that.” Michonne wanted the girl to have some feeling of self worth.

“Can’t change it I don’t know why she think that's way.” Carl tells them defeated on how to change Y/n’s mind on how she views herself.

“The Sanctuary.” Daryl spoke up, he never talked about his time at the sanctuary and if he did it was normally with Y/n. She was there and understood what he went through. But if they were gonna help Y/n they needed to know at least a little. “At the sanctuary the way they treated her. . . that girl was the most valuable person there. Whether it be her being Negan’s kid or not she could kill a hundred walkers on her own. But they treated her like she wasn’t worth anything. Made sure she knew it to. She might as well been in my situation.” 

“Shit. That’s not going to be a quick fix.” Michonne ran a hand down her face at the vague but helpful information.

“No it ain’t.” Daryl shook his head, but he was determined to get Y/n to believe she meant something. That she was worth everything. “But she’s family now. We’ll make it happen.”

“Agreed.” Michonne nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, we will.” Carl said, determined like Daryl for Y/n to know she had a place with them.

Taglist:

@padawancat97 @gruffle1

[trashk1tty]

Rick Grimes x Farmers Daughter.