#daryl dixon/oc/RIck grimes

[kookiekult]

WHEEEREES RICK??

No seriously. I need him. Where is he. Where is my husband.

Chat I think I cooked 🍳

[raspberryslxt]

Carl Grimes x Negan’s daughter!reader

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warnings:none

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The world had become a desolate wasteland, overrun by the undead and ruled by fear. Amidst the chaos, Carl Grimes found himself face to face with an unexpected ally – y/n, the daughter of the notorious Negan.

Carl cautiously approached the abandoned warehouse, his senses on high alert. He had heard rumors of survivors in the area, but he never expected to encounter Negan's daughter.

Y/n emerged from the shadows, her presence commanding attention as she leveled a gaze at Carl. "What do you want?" she demanded, her voice tinged with suspicion.

Carl raised his hands in a gesture of peace, his eyes scanning the area for any signs of danger. "I'm just looking for supplies," he replied, keeping his tone neutral. "I mean no harm."

Y/n studied Carl for a moment, her expression unreadable. "Fine," she finally said, stepping aside to let him pass. "But watch your back. This world is unforgiving."

As they ventured deeper into the warehouse, Carl and y/n exchanged cautious glances, their guard never faltering. Despite the tension between them, Carl couldn't help but admire y/n resilience in the face of adversity.

"Your father... Negan," Carl began tentatively, breaking the uneasy silence. "What's he like?"

Y/n’s jaw tightened at the mention of her father, a shadow passing over her features. "He's... complicated," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "But he's not all bad."

„He killed my friends,” the bot said. Y/n looked at him with a „really dude” look.

Carl nodded, understanding the complexities of family loyalty all too well. "I get it," he said softly. "We all have people we care about, even if they've done things we don't agree with."

As they scoured the warehouse for supplies, Carl and y/n found themselves opening up to each other in ways they never expected. They shared stories of their pasts, their hopes and fears laid bare in the harsh light of reality.

Hours turned into days, and Carl and y/n formed an unlikely bond as they navigated the dangers of the wasteland together. They fought off hordes of walkers, braved the elements, and relied on each other for survival in a world where trust was a rare commodity.

But their newfound partnership was put to the test when a group of hostile survivors threatened their sanctuary. Carl and y/n stood side by side, their weapons drawn as they prepared to defend their makeshift home.

"We can't let them win," y/n said, her voice steely with determination.

Carl nodded, his gaze unwavering as he met y/n’s eyes. "We won't," he vowed, a sense of urgency coursing through his veins.

As the enemy closed in, Carl and Y/n fought with a fierce intensity, their movements synchronized as they battled against overwhelming odds. In the heat of the moment, Carl found himself relying on y/n’s strength and agility, trusting her with his life in ways he never thought possible.

When the dust finally settled, Carl and y/n stood victorious, their chests heaving with exertion as they surveyed the aftermath of the battle. Despite the chaos and destruction surrounding them, they knew that as long as they had each other, they could face whatever challenges lay ahead.

Y/n turned to Carl, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Thanks," she said softly, her eyes betraying a vulnerability she rarely showed.

Carl returned her smile, a sense of warmth flooding his chest. "Anytime," he replied, his voice tinged with sincerity.

As they stood together in the fading light of the setting sun, Carl and y/n knew that they had found redemption in each other's company – two souls bound by the shadows of their pasts, yet united in their quest for a brighter future. And in a world consumed by darkness, that was enough to give them hope.

[melanatedeuph0ria]

welcome to my page !!☆

hiiiii & welcome to my melanatedeuph0ria!! for ab a yr or 2 now, i’ve been mainly reading fics on tumblr on characters like rick grimes, spencer reid, toji, etc. (nonblk characters mostly let’s be fr..) and throughout those yrs, i’ve been noticing a complete lack of..

BLACK POVS.

“well, if the fic just says ‘reader x (character)’, couldn’t you just use your imagination to insert ur race?? 🤔”

while this IS true, i feel like us as black & poc readers should have the opportunity to read some fanfics that makes us feel SPECIAL & RECOGNIZED, in aspects such as our skin, hair, & realness without it being stereotypical or just having us feel defaulted to a white pov. (also without it being just SMUT cmon y’all)

also, we all know rick grimes luvs some MELANINNNN ‼️🗣️

so, with that being said, i am here to bring justice to my fellow blk readers who needed a lil spice in their reading, so the imagination part could be a bit easier 🫶🏽

SOME of the fics i make will be poc x reader, others will be just x reader & up for interpretation !!

NOTE: this is NOT me saying black readers ONLY want black-centered fics, nor is this me placing black readers in a box, NOR is this me putting down “x reader” fics!! this is me saying that, although i do enjoy fics without a specified race most of the time, sometimes i feel like having fics catered to poc are special as well because there aren’t many on this app to call our own!!💗

ty for sticking around until the end, and im hoping to start writing fics soon !! 🌷🌸

[shan-yee]

𝙳𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝

Daryl Dixon x younger!fem!reader ๏𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜 = 950 ๏𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 = death, gun, reader lost her sibling and her parents, reader lost her sanity, age gap, Daryl saw the reader grow up. ๏𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢 = Sometimes you have to do things that you don’t want to for the sake of your loved ones. ๏𝙰/𝙽 = I KNOW I HAVE REQUESTS TO DO, but i rewatched TWD and damn Daryl… ๏𝙰/𝙽 2 = English is not my first language, please let me know if you see any mistakes ! Enjoy ✨

Save me from the nothing i’ve become

Daryl had never believed in love, that is, if this « love » concerned him directly. He had always been happy for his people when they found the boot that fit them. But the idea that he could one day find someone who would accept him for who he was despite his damn character and his many emotional wounds, still open, was inconceivable to him.

And if one day someone had told him that he would indeed find love in a young woman whom he had watched grow up and protected for a good part of his life, he would have laughed out loud. Even more so if this said person had told him that he would also be the one to take the young woman’s life.

He didn't understand how everything could have taken such a turn, was it too much to ask to have a happy and simple life, in a house with blue walls and a garden, with his family.

Accepting the fact that he loved someone much younger than him took courage but he did it. And when he was finally living a somewhat normal life in this apocalyptic world, he now had to take the life of the woman he loved to protect his found family.

When Rick told him about it, he refused, he even got angry and shoved his friend before storming off. Then he thought, really thought, about what Rick had said to him.

Looking at [Y/N], sitting towards the many graves that the inhabitants had dug, with a blank look and the skin of her lips bleeding from the many open wounds they had, he realized that maybe, maybe it was the best solution.

Daryl understood that after losing the only living member of her family the young woman might be devastated and need time. But there was something else behind this sadness, a feeling that Daryl had only seen in his father. Such destructive hatred that he came to shiver every time his gaze met that of his beloved.

She had never been the type to always be full of energy or cheerful, how could you be when death lurks near your house every day, but this look had nothing to do with her usual detached and grumpy morning look.

So finally, he accepted. It was out of the question that anyone other than him would do it. He had gripped the grip of his gun with a trembling hand and that same evening he had found the young woman in the garden, where she spent most of her time, looking at the flowers that Carol was growing with disinterest.

When he got close enough to clearly see the outline of her body, he stopped abruptly, like a stake. And the [H/C] haired woman seemed to know he was there, why he was there.

He saw her turn her head slightly and glance at his weapon before turning it around and returning her attention to the many flowers.

—I’m tired. She whispered, her voice raspy, as if she hadn't slept for several days.

—I know. He answered her, his eyebrows furrowing as he felt like he had never blinked so much in his entire life.

—I’m sorry.

—I know. he repeated.

The young woman's shoulders sagged before she slowly stood up, Daryl's gaze following her every movement with an eagle eye. He knew she wouldn't try to run away and deep down he hoped she would, that she would hit him before running away at full speed. But she wouldn't do it, even if he asked her.

She approached slowly and Daryl was able to admire her one last time, she didn't smile at him, she hadn't done so for a while, but he saw a certain tenderness in her eyes, a tenderness that she always reserved for him and their friends.

Decided, the man took her in his arms, her head against his chest and she let him do without saying anything, her eyes closing.

—You’re not going to kiss me one last time ? She asked him with a touch of humor in her voice.

But he didn't answer her. She knew that her question was selfish, she was going to rest forever but he would have to live with that, live with the act he was going to commit and the distant memory of a woman he had loved but could not save.

—Will it hurt ? Her voice resonated like a sweet melody in the older 's ear.

—I don’t know.

—That’s the only thing you didn’t know tonight. The young woman laughed without any real amusement.

He wanted to tell her that she was wrong, that he didn’t know what he was doing right now, that his action was surely going to be the biggest mistake of his life, but he didn’t. He decided to keep his feelings to himself, tonight was not about him but about her and for his peace of mind he was ready to bury everything.

She finally felt the soft coldness of the muzzle against her temple before taking a deep breath, she felt ready, ready to finally find her family in the afterlife and stop this infinite race against death.

—I love you Daryl, i really do.

The corners of his mouth twitched and he held her a little closer to his chest as if to reassure himself.

—I love you. He murmured in the corner of her ear, leaving aside his usual disinterested tone before pressing the trigger.

Daryl never spoke of that night again, refusing even to pronounce the first name of his former lover and no one ever found the young woman's body.

[darylsfavoritegirl]

Whoopps im liking this better than i thought

Summary: Daryl and Rick go on a run, they run into a pretty girl who is quite skilled in killing walkers but she is acting a bit suspicious👀 they decide to keep an eye on her. Again this takes place in the prison era.

Warnings: nothing really? a bit of phsyical pain involved cuz its twd

I initially tried to write this with first and third person narration which failed horribly so this is my first y/n fanfic ? feel free to correct my mistakes!! i'm new

"...And she ain't afraid to get violent with men 3 times her size."

Daryl and Rick were behind a large tree as they were watching out for walkers. Daryl narrowed his eyes slightly when he saw this girl fighting off walkers on the corner of his eyes.

"The hell she think' she's doin' ?" Daryl mumbled under his breath in a rush only for Rick to turn to his body towards him.

"What?" He asked before his eyes caught Y/n taking down three walkers.

Rick scanned the area only to see two more coming at her from behind. Daryl looked at Rick for a second and followed his gaze.

"Should we help her?" Rick asked cautiously, trying to calculate Daryl's reaction.

"Nah, she can handle 'em herself. Let's go."

Rick gazed at Daryl as he was walking into the woods. He decided to take one last glare at this alone mysterious girl when his eyes widened slightly at the scene that was going on infront of his eyes. He called for Daryl in a barely audible tone.

"Check this out." He said swinging his index and middle finger lightly at the girl. Daryl leered at her. She had a camera on her and she was documenting the area. She was taking pictures of the trees, the dead walkers, the stores. Anything.

"Well, ain't none of our dam' business." Daryl said with a slight irritation in his voice.

Rick glared at him from the corner of his eyes for a brief second before taking a deep breath.

"She is alone, quiet pretty and actin' all strange." Rick said with an undertone of mistrust.

"She took five or six walkers all by herself, without a trouble." He then added with fascinated eyes.

Daryl rolled his eyes moderately "Now what? Yea takin' interest in sum girl fightin' for 'er life?"

Daryl kept leering at Y/n as she walked into the pharmacy store right after cleaning her knife with a cloth she ripped from a dress that one of the walkers was wearing.

He scowled lightly as his frustration revealed itself in his voice "Great. She goin' into the store I was plannin' to go into." He grunted. He sighed audibly and looked at Rick over his shoulder before putting his crossbow in place on his hands. Rick kept sniggering and followed him. They were looking for survivors. They needed them, Daryl didn't love the idea. He thought Rick was trusting people easily but maybe he needed to do that... He entered the pharmacy, with the intention of studying this girl more.

. . . .

Y/n kneelt infront of the biggest drug shelf, trying her hardest to find antibiotics. They were useful for anything, though none was left. Y/n sighed before going through piled up medications on the floor when she heard someone walk in. Whoever that was, they were quite, almost too quite for her to not notice. She slowly got up, scanned the area for a brief moment. Thank god, she wasn't in the entrance, otherwise she would be caught in the open; like a prey awaiting for its predator.

Y/n knew the first thing she had to do was to control her breathing so she did. She hid behind a big metal desk, her backpack was near the door, the entrance where whoever that was there could see it easily. She didn't panick. She held her breath and got close to her backbag with cautious light movements. She dragged her bag to herself.

Y/n listened to area for a few seconds before slowly pulling her knife and pistol out of their cases. This was what she was scared of, dealing with somebody she doesn't know in the middle of the apocalpyse. She knew she had to stay calm. She inspected her ammo, incase she had to use it. She checked the magazine. Y/n had her pistol on one hand meanwhile she had her commando knife sitting on her left hand gently. She had a firm stance but before she could even take a second peek, y/n felt someone's presence.

"Come out."

Y/n studied the man's voice before she got up. The grunt, the thick southern accent one could hear even in two words. Y/n could already tell she had to deal with an aggressive one. She had a moment of debating with herself whether or not she should leave her weapons on the floor. "That's stupid." she notioned inside of her head. All these thoughts pondered her head within 5 seconds when the man, once again repeated it.

"Come on out. Now."

She lifted her head up. An arrow in a crossbow looking directly at her forehead and blue stern eyes behind it. Y/n immediatly got up and stepped back, weapons in her hand with a firm stance. A hasty moment of exchanging rigid gazes.

"I'm not looking for trouble." Y/n said with a humane tone. Ironic, she believed. A girl stating that she isn't looking for trouble with two lethal weapons in her hands.

The man stayed silent without breaking the intense eye contact. Y/n felt the need of giving assurance to him to not get killed. Anything could happen these days.

She sounded as if she was begging, abundance of tender in her voice "I just need some supplies and I'll be out of here before you know it."

Y/n leered deep into the man's eye as if she could see what was going on inside of his head. Daryl looked at y/n up and down, trying to conclude if she is any danger at all. He finally stopped frowning and loosened his grip on the crossbow.

"Go ahead." he mumbled.

Y/n also loosened her grip on her weapons. She felt her hands cramping because how long she had been holding the weapons. She moved aside, her eyes still following the man. Y/n got down, confused even scared because she had no idea what could happen any second. She forgot about the pills. She was scared for her life. Nonetheless, she grabbed a few medicine from the pile on the floor and tossed them into her bag. Y/n could see the man's reflection from the broken glass infront of her. He was not taking his eyes off of her, which freaked y/n out. She took a deep breath and slowly got up. The man was leaning against one of the desks in the pharmacy, he was looking rather calm but at alert. Y/n could see that. Her eyes formed some kind of apologetic manner as she examined the man for a brief moment. She didn't know why she did that. Maybe she felt he was no longer a threat to her. Daryl was quite indifferent. He was not also taking her eyes off of Y/n. She started walking towards the door when the ammo in her backpack started making noises because they got all messy in there when she tried to get a magazine out. She hoped he wouldn't mind it and stopped for a second, turned to this man and gently said

"I'm Y/n"

Y/n didn't know if she was supposed to wait for him to respond. She felt as if she owed this man the courtesy of saying her name at least. She decided to walk out when all of a sudden her thoughts were interrupted by another grunt. "Daryl." He said. It sounded apathetic as if he only said his name because Y/n said hers. Y/n gently smiled, if you can call that a smile. She made her way to the door. She was still sweating when another one of her pistols dropped from her bag and made a big thud, leaving her all panicked. She had a few guns in her backpack and this wasn't good to a stranger's eyes. She grabbed her ALFA combat and incompetently put it into her jacket pocket that she was wearing in the heat of Georgia. She didn't even look at Daryl.

Y/n didn't wanna take long because she knew it would get fucked up and it indeed did. Her action was interrupted by Daryl's hasty voice when her hand touched the door handle.

"Hold on." He said in a wary tone.

"Wha's tha' in yer bag?" his eyes roaming through her body and backpack as he came closer.

Y/n took a deep breath before turning to him. She knew it was time to actually be a bit belligerent. There was no way this could end in any virtuousness.

"You a damn cop now?" Y/n said with vexation in her eyes.

"First you come here and spy on me now you wanna check my backpack." the annoyance and electric in her voice growing stronger with each word.

Daryl stayed tranquil. He knew Y/n was a potential survivor Rick might wanna take in but he still needed to make sure everything. He came even closer. No one could blame Y/n for feeling under threat. Her survival instinct kicked in. She already calculated the strength of Daryl, there was no way she could overpower him. That's the thought that kept notioning inside of her head throughtout the 5 minutes she had to spend with him. But, Y/n thought, if she attacked him when he least expected it, maybe that would give her enough time to run as far as she could and make him lose track of her.

So she did, she kicked Daryl in the guts, leaving him only stumble a few steps back. Daryl huffed "Fuck." at the pain of being kicked in the stomach.That was all her power and Daryl didn't even fall. She didn't have time to bore her mind with that at the moment. Y/n grabbed the the door handle and pulled it with all her power and started running as fast as she could.

Y/n was panicking more than ever now. She knew she was a survivor, that was the reason she stayed alive in this wilderness where dead people were walking aimlessly, attempting to bite into anything that had life and flesh. The bag full of ammo and couple of guns were making harsh noises as it was also slowing her down.

Y/n was panting and practically dragging her feet to run along when she heard a gun fire. She instantly stopped. Perhaps it was another survival instinct, perhaps she believed the next upcoming bullet would go through her skull if she didn't stop. Her legs were trembling and her body was sweating like never before. She should've never worn that jacket in the heat of the summer but that was for precaution. She halted. The first thing she did before turning to him with her hands in the air was to catch up on breathing as if she forgot how to do that. It was a big area before one could get lost in the woods. She took long hasty breaths and slowly turned her body towards the spot where the gun was fired.

Y/n huffed swiftly under her breath "Fuck" She did not only see Daryl but another man next to him holding a colt python. Daryl was panting aswell but he quickly fixed his posture.

Were they spying on Y/n all along? Demented possibilities were lining up in her head one after another. Two of the men kept looking at her while her arms and hands started cramping because of how long she had been holding them up in the air.

"What do you want?" Y/n shouted. Her eyes scrutinizing both men, debating inside of her head if they would go any further.

A few geeks started coming out of the woods. She knew it was mindless of the other man to fire a gun, even far away from the city. She reached at for her knife the second she heard their infuriating growls but Daryl didn't let her. He gave y/n a spine-chilling glare as he walked past her and killed the geeks on the spot. The other man looked rather nonchalant, not keeping his eyes on neither one of them; just giving soft glares now and then. Y/n couldn't even dare to look back, see what Daryl was doing. She supposed he was taking his arrows out of geeks' heads, cleaning them with a piece of cloth. That's pretty much what everyone did.

Then y/n felt Daryl's unyielding grip on her forearm and her backpack. He was forcing her to walk ahead of him. She could feel his harsh breaths behind her ears and it only made her heart drop.

"Asshole." she whispered and sort of hoped he wouldn't hear it. He most likely did but did not pay any attention to it. Y/n felt more under threat as they were getting closer to the other man. She notioned this could not end in any good. It was time to take action now or never. Her brain felt like it could explode any minute.

"Let me go." she howled, trying to push Daryl but it only made him more antagonized. He felt as if she was only trying to provoke him at this point. He responded back with pushing y/n to the wall of the pharmacy store. Her back hit the wall swiftly and harshly making her whine in pain. The backpack was still on her and all that metal stinged her back because of how hard Daryl tossed her on the wall. It was like every single one of the curved metal was being carved into her back.

"Ahh." she cried out. Before y/n could even pull herself together, she once again felt his harsh grip on the backpack. She gave in at that point, seeing no reason in fighting back.

"Easy." y/n heard the other man saying slowly to Daryl, his eyes forming a stern look. Y/n looked at him, she wanted to speak; explain herself but she didn't know if it would make a difference at all. She bucked up, her back was still hurting but it was now or never. Y/n took a deep breath between the whimpers of pain and said

"I don't fire 'em." she exchanged glances between two men. Her voice sounded as if she was in rush. Her voice growing raspier because of thirst that was caused by running and apprehensiveness. Daryl looking more irritated with every word that was coming out of her mouth.

"Then wha's for carryin' a bag full o' guns, huh?" he uttered.

Y/n knew she had to be wary, if not she had no idea what would happen to her. She made out that she could put some sense into the other man if not into the redneck.

"I'm delivering them to a friend." a lie. She couldn't even look into directly their eyes but tried her best to do so.

Rick seemed rather suspicious "All alone?" he muttered. Y/n caught his leer.

"Goin' all this trouble to deliver few guns." Rick sounded as if he was asking a question but also reflecting the situation in his head.

" 'Few' guns worth more than gold nowadays." Y/n said emphasizing the word "few" with a subtle irritation in her voice.

"I don' know man." Daryl got closer to Rick. Every one of them were still eyeing eachother up and down. Rick didn't want to let her go for two reasons, first being cautious about the prison's perimeter if she was telling the truth. He thought she wasn't being honest but there was no harm in being wary. Second being, she would be good use in the prison if she was alone and soloing her way. He knew he needed to investigate into it when y/n interrupted his track of thought

"Can I go now?" she said, not too pretentious but also not too sloppy either. She kept eyeing them, not letting her guard down and trying to not irritate them even more.

"Y'all don't look like bandits or I- I- don't know, plunderers. Why not let me go?" She was gazing at both of them as if she could see their souls.

"Tha's cuz wer not." Daryl said in an obvious exasperated, raucous tone. Y/n couldn't help but smirk a little bit at his extreme, fragile reaction.

A brief fierce eye contacted formed between y/n and Daryl when Rick made a hand gesture infront of Daryl to indicate him that Y/n was no longer a threat that she could, perhaps, leave. Her gaze shifted back to Rick. Rick had a soft manner on his face, he slowly swinged his fingers at y/n, indicating she was free to go. Y/n sighed and rolled her eyes lightly as she got down and grabbed her backpack, she had a fierce look on her eyes when she took one last leer at Daryl and slowly started to walk away.

Rick gazed at Daryl watching Y/n walk away from the corner of his eyes. Daryl could feel his eyes on him so he turned to him with a slight maddening going through his body like electroshocks. Rick still had that pleasant bearing on his face which drew Daryl more irritated

"No more interested in takin' 'er into the prison?" He grunted as he grabbed his crossbow and slung it over his shoulder as he kept staring at Rick.

"I am." Rick said in a cool manner.

"I dun' kno' man. She 's trouble and ain't afraid to get violent wit' men three times her size." Daryl said still studying y/n in his mind.

"And that's a survivor right there." Rick sniggered as a subtle smirk appeared on Daryl's face.

FOOTNOTE

Ok yall can't believe this took me 2-ish days to write😭😭 i love writing these that's why i been skipping studying lmao and this one is a lot longer than the previous one. we get more daryl content (i hope you like the way i describe/write him im trying my best but again he is such a complicated character. writing rick is a lot easier.) i hope you like it!! i can write a sequel fanfic if you want me to!!! just let me know :)

[ysoandi]

Rick: Are you drunk?

Y/N: Only on the spirit of Christmas!

Daryl *looks down at the bottle in Y/N's hand*: And the spirit of whisky.

[queenvidal]

Welcome To The Sanctuary

Negan x Reader (Rick’s Daughter)

Chapter 3: Trust Is a Lesson

Chapter Summary: Rick's daughter won't be coming home, a decision Negan has to break to Alexandria.

Wordcount: 3775

Era: Season 7

- Part 5 of the The One And Only Series -

Chapter Index:

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 - COMING SOON!

Masterlist / Negan x Rick's Daughter Series

It's early in the morning. The Sanctuary is still asleep and the whole factory is peacefully quiet.

Slowly but surely do you make your way down the stairs, all the way down to the last level of the building. Even after a whole week of almost nonstop sleeping, you still feel drained and sometimes also lightheaded. After every managed staircase you need to take a second and catch your breath and fight the dizziness. It’s tiring but you’re determined. Today's your final examination with doctor Carson and you want to make a good impression. 

It was offered to you, that the doctor would come to Negan’s quarters, but you quickly declined. After a whole week of lying in the bed you were dying to get back up at your feet again.

You have to cover a yawn with your hand, it really is way too early.

“Come on, Sweet Thing,” Negan’s voice sounds from the floor below. “You almost made it.”  

Sill yawning, you move on to the next flight of stairs. You can’t help but to smile at the sight of Negan waiting for you, looking up at you with his big, hazel eyes and a faint smile of exhilaration on his lips. It’s almost adorable. 

He’s already in uniform, wearing his leather jacket, glove and scarf. He’ll head out to Alexandria after your appointment with the doctor and depending on today's results, you will either stay at the factory for another week or join him and go back home. 

Excitement is clear on Negan's features as he watches you ascending the stairs. He's more than happy to see you back on your feet again, but even better than that is seeing how much strength you need to do so. He was everything but subtle about how much he hoped you'd have to stay. Of course he'd let you go home either way, no matter the outcome of your appointment, but you agreed on staying if Carson would recommend that. Seeing you this tired just from walking stairs got his hopes up again. Although your recovery was and still is the number one property, he absolutely wouldn't mind to hear that you still need more appointments in the future.

When you’re just about at the end of the stairs, he reaches out his hand to help you down the last few steps. You look at him for a quick second, before taking his hand, letting him help you down. “Someone is in high spirits.” You tease him with a smile. Negan only chuckles in response. “One could assume you’re looking way more forward to the examination than I do.”

“So?” He asks. Once you’re off the last stair, he moves your hand to his lips, planting a soft kiss on your skin. “It will be good news either way, for me at least.”

You just shake your head, still smiling at him before moving on towards the clinic. Doctor Carson is already waiting for you outside, greeting the two of you before moving in. He goes straight to work, gathering his equipment, while you sit down on a cot, waiting. Negan is leaning against the wall, watching you and the Doc. He really doesn’t know the word privacy but he’d find out what's going on anyway and you don't mind having him at the appointment.

Before doctor Carson starts with his examination, he sets up an IV bag, so you can get your needed liquid and supplements in the meantime. Once everything is ready and connected to your arm, the doctor is taking your blood pressure.

“Still not good but better.” He whispers to himself before writing down your vitals. “How are you feeling?” He asks, “Still fighting with fatigue, still being tired?”

“Very.” You admit truthfully.

“Hm,” The doctor huffs, scribbling away in his notes. You look at Negan, who is wiggling his eyebrows at you. You just shake your head at him with a small grin.

“Alright, now to the stitches.” Carson says. You pull up your top, exposing the bandages. The doctor cuts them open and removes them before examining the stitches. With a pad drenched in alcohol he cleans the edges, you narrow your eyes slightly at the sting. Negan pushes himself from the wall, wanting to have a look himself. He comes to stand right next to you, checking out the healing injury. 

“The stitches are still looking good.” Doctor Carson affirms, filling in his report. 

“Well?” You ask, with a faint smile on your lips, wrapping new bandages around your middle, “What’s your recommendation, am I good to go?” 

“Well, Miss Grimes. That depends.” The doctor looks up from his clipboard. “Do you know how to pull the sutures out?”

“But-”, you interrupt Negan with a smile, one of your hands resting on his chest to calm him down. “I’d be way more comfortable if you did that, doctor Carson.” 

Negan’s looking at you quite expectantly. You know what answer he’d like to hear. You look back at Carson again. “I do-”

“Aw, come on!” The boss complains, looking at you with a disappointed frown. “Couldn’t you have said no-”

Carson shares a knowing glance with the both of you before stating, “In that case, I recommend more rest. You’re no longer bedridden but you should take it very easy still. Some strolls here and there but no physical labor. As soon as you feel dizzy or tired, you have to slow down again.

You nod your head at the doctor. “Napping when needed, got it.” 

“Alright”, the doctor starts, moving back to his desk again. “As far as I am concerned, you are good to leave, once the IV’s done. Negan, I’ve made you a list of all used up medications. We are not out yet, but due to Miss Grimes high demand for iron, I need more saline solutions.”

Negan nods at the doctor. “Pass the list to Arat, by now she should be waiting at the trucks outside.”

“Of course.” Carson says, before taking his leave. You quickly yell a ‘thank you, doctor’ after him, before he disappears into the hallway.

“Now.” Negan says, coming to stand right in front of you, both of his hands on either side of your waist. “You really wanna stay?” You only nod at him. “You know you can leave anytime you want, right? One word and I bring you home, safe and sound.”

“I’d love to stay a little while longer.” You’re beaming up at him.

Negan smiles down at you before moving closer, capturing your lips with his. The kiss is slow and tender, almost sweet. You can't help but melt into his touch. 

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

Carl is walking the courtyard up and down, nervously waiting for his sister. His eyes move towards the hung up walkers around the fence every now and then, their constant gnarling is making him uncomfortable. He can’t wait to finally leave this place.

Saviors are already driving up their trucks, getting ready for the pickup. Several men and women gather around the vehicles. All seems ready, the only ones missing are their boss and his sister. 

“Good morning, folks!” Negan’s voice sounds over the courtyard. Carl quickly turns around, finding Negan exiting the factory. He is holding the door, waiting for Carl’s sister to step out before letting it fall shut again. 

Carl quickly gets moving. Once at his sister's side, he’s bombarding her with questions. “How are you feeling? Is everything alright, what did the doctor say? Are you hungry, I got a ration from their kitchen-”

“All good, Carl.” you chuckle softly as you interrupt him. “You need to breathe,” you joke before explaining the results of the doctor's last examination. “I have to take it slow and still take some supplements, but everythings gonna be fine.” 

Carl nods his head, listening to you attentively. “Sounds great. Dad ‘n Daryl will be relieved. And the others of course.”

Your brother told you what happened, when you passed out in the infirmary. No matter what he and Sasha did, the bleeding wouldn't stop. Your skin has gotten paler and paler by the minute. At this point everyone in the room was crying, afraid of losing you. Daryl eventually decided to cauterize the wound. His hands were shaking, when he pressed his heated blade against your skin. The smell was horrendous and Carl had to look away. 

After Daryl was done, everyone took a moment to breathe, thinking or more so hoping it helped, that the bleeding finally stopped. Although no more blood was seeping through, it was evident that it was already too late, as even the color of your lips disappeared. Daryl couldn’t handle the sight, after only a few moments he took off without a word and Saviors arrived just shortly after that. You don’t want to imagine the turmoil everyone had to go through. 

“We two driving with Negan?” Carl asks, but you shake your head.

“No,” you say, “you will, but I’ll stay here.”

Your brother crosses his arms in front of his chest. “I see, but… but Dad probably won't.”

Carl frowns at you. “But you’ve said the doctor gave his okay?”

You rest your hands on your hips, “Yeah, but I think I’ll stay for another week. I still need IV’s and quite honestly I am still not feeling too well. I’d be way more comfortable with an actual clinic and a doctor around.”

A tired sigh leaves your lips. “Yeah, I know. But then again, I think he’ll understand my reasoning. Speaking of Dad-” your hand disappears in the pocket of your sweatpants, retrieving a folded piece of paper. “I wrote a letter, can you please give it to him?”

Carl is about to take it, when Negan appears behind him. “Jump in, kid. We’re moving out.” The boy quickly takes the note, shoving it into the pocket of his jeans. 

He chuckles at you. “Alright.” His eyes fall on your lips, as he comes to rest one of his hands on the small of your back. You almost automatically cup his face, when he slowly leans down to you for a kiss. Again his lips move gently against yours. Warmth spreads through your abdomen, a pleasant fuzzy feeling. You have half a mind to deepen the kiss, when Negan moves away again, just enough to be able to look into your eyes. “Enjoy your stay, Sunshine.”

You look at your brother in bewilderment, but Carl quickly hugs you goodbye before moving to Negan’s car. The head of the Saviors waits for the boy to be gone before moving his attention back to you. “So, my dear. We’ll be gone for a few hours. If you want to, you can take a look around my factory in the meantime.”

You smile at him but shake your head softly. “Thanks for the offer but I think I'll go straight back to bed. The climb up to the fifth floor is probably gonna knock me out anyway.”

After another quick peck on your lips, Negan lets go completely. He moves towards his men, ready to leave. Warmth settles on your cheeks, it still feels strange to be affectionate in public, in front of his people. But what’s even stranger is the fact that no one is watching. Your eyes are wandering through the crowd. None of his people are acknowledging what just happened, no one is batting an eye. You nip on your lower lip subconsciously. People here don't mind? 

Negan and Carl finally hop into the car. You wave at them one final time before going back into the factory. On your way in, you still wonder about how little these people here seem to care about your thing with Negan, their leader no less. In The Sanctuary it’s just no big deal and such a stark contrast to Alexandria. 

A smile finds its way onto your face. Although it’s odd, you have to admit that you actually enjoy it. It’s relieving to be so free of judgment and quite honestly you can’t wait for Negan to come back again. There is still a light tingle on your skin from where his beard scratched you during the kiss. He’s so careful with you now, gentle. It’s so sweet. The thought is accompanied by a fluttering sensation in your belly, making the smile only grow wider.

You’re on your way to the stairwell, when doctor Carson calls your name. “Miss Grimes? Miss Grimes, I’m sorry to disturb you but I was wondering if you could give me your input on one of my patients. I was informed you’re a pharmacist.”

Quickly you bring your thoughts back, focusing on Carson. “Sure.” You move away from the stairs and towards the doctor. “How can I help you?”

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

The convoy almost reached its destination. Carl’s looking out the window, seemingly enjoying the view, as the all too familiar suburb is passing by.

Negan looks at the boy for a second before asking, “Did your sister give you the letter?” 

Carl just keeps looking out of the window. Nonchalantly he says, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The head of the Saviors huffs a small laugh. “Sure, buddy. You really could not have been more suspicious even if you tried to.” After a tired sigh, Carl retrieves the letter from his pocket and holds it out for Negan to take. The man looks at him, confused. “The hell am I supposed to do with it?”

“What do you mean?” Carl asks, just as confused as him, “Don’t you wanna read it?”

“Nope.” Negan looks at the boy for a quick second before looking back at the road ahead of them. “She told me what's in there.” 

Carl’s frown only intensifies. “And… you believe her?”

“Yup.” Negan answers. “So far she’s never given me a reason to distrust or doubt her. This was your chance to prove me right, that you’re someone to trust and congrats, Carl. You failed.” 

The boy bites his cheeks nervously, looking out of the window again. He really can’t wait to get home. 

Negan’s just shaking his head slightly, disappointed. He was able read the letter over her shoulder when she was writing it, but Carl doesn’t need to know that and the point is that his Sunshine told him about it without him even having to ask for it. She’s always been upfront and honest. Carl on the other hand, he is the opposite.  

That boy still not trusting him it’s not just disappointing, given the fact that Negan safed his sister's life and allowed that little shit to stay not only in his Sanctuary but his own private quarters is downright insulting. That kid still has a lot to learn.

Finally Alexandria's walls come into view. Negan looks back at the boy, “Before we go in, I’ll fill you in on what's gonna happen.” The gate to Alexandria opens and the convoy drives inside. “I want you to go straight to your house and pack new clothes for your sister and come right back. No little chats, no lingering around, no nothing. You get back to the trucks and stay at the trucks, right where I can see you.”

Carl rolls his eye. With a clear hint of annoyance in his voice, he answers shortly. “Fine.”

Negan can’t stand the attitude but is too occupied to care at the moment. He has to concentrate on the pickup right now. Rick won't be pleased about his daughter's absence and Negan is not in the mood for a standoff.

As the car comes to a stop in the middle of the parking lot, Negan can already tell today's pickup is going to be different. Alexandria is full of life, people are already waiting for them. It’s totally unlike the last time. That's at least slightly easing Negan's mind.

Rick’s people are all swarming around the parking lot, waiting for his Sunshine no doubt. Once properly parked, Negan and Carl jump out of the car. The boy is about to get going, but Negan quickly orders him to stay and wait.

Rick can be seen making his way towards them. Distress and confusion are clear on his features as he realizes his daughter is not with them.

Negan greets the approaching man. “Morning, Rick.” 

“Where’s Y/N?” Rick promptly asks in a striked voice, getting right to the point. 

“Still in my clinic.” Negan states, displeased by Rick's tone.

Rick keeps on walking towards his son. Despite the order, Carl starts moving, meeting his father halfway. They hug each other. Rick looks down at his boy, asking, “Are you alright?” Carl lets go, nodding yes. Relieved, Rick’s looking back at Negan. “I want to talk to her.” 

Negan scoffs at that, “Look who’s making demands here. You got a lot of nerve for someone who was ready to fight with me, while she was slowly dying on that cot.”

Rick’s eyes quickly move to the ground in shame, before looking back at the other man. In hopes of smoothing things out, Carl fetches the letter out of his pocket. “She's alright and wanted me to hand you this.”

Hey, Dad.

Rick’s taking the piece of paper. While opening it, Negan orders Carl to get the stuff for his sister. Rick looks after his son for a moment before reading.

I’m fine and well cared for. 

The doctor is checking on me about three times a day and I’m on a IV drip every morning. My wound had to be reopened again, but the doctor did a great job. He installed a drainage, which had been already removed again and stitched me up. That’s going to be another addition to my ugly scar collection. 

Carl said, I’ve slept through most of it. I was knocked out for about three days and even now I still sleep for the majority of the day but it’s slowly getting better. The pain is tolerable, too. 

I miss you and the others. I’d hug you all, if I could. 

Please give Judith a night-night kiss for me

Love you,

Y/N

Tears welled up in Rick's eyes, as he eyes roamed over the writing. Negan rolls his eyes in annoyance, he can't lie he's feeling at least a little bit of sympathy for Rick’s current situation. Almost losing his Sunshine drove him crazy, he can’t imagine what it must have been like for her family. 

Deciding he’ll let Rick’s defiance behavior fly this time, he slowly comes to stand next to the man. “She’ll be back next week.” Negan’s unfamiliar calm voice makes Rick look up again. “She wanted to stay until the next pickup, because she doesn’t trust herself with removing the stitches ‘n stuff. I’ll bring her home once that’s done. Honest.”

Rick takes a long deep breath, trying to blink away the wetness in his eyes. Once he got himself composed again, he's looking back at Negan. “Thank you.”

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

It’s late midday when you and doctor Carson are standing in The Sanctuary’s courtyard. The two of you are going over the Savior's latest delivery. A truck for one of their outposts is getting loaded. The doctor is checking the requested medications, asking for your opinion on several things. 

It’s so nice to speak to someone who knows about your field of work as well. Although medicine and pharmacy are not the same, they are still similar enough to lay a foundation for very interesting discussions. Carson really respects your knowledge and ideas, he is even up for suggestions regarding the treatments of his patients.

“Huh, in that case I’d recommend Clindamycin.” You look at the doctors chart. “Given she’s allergic to Penicillin and the clinic's stock, this might be the only opinion.”

“Yeah, I was thinking about that, too.” Carson agrees. “Thank you, Miss Grimes.”

You smile at the doctor. It’s such a good feeling being appreciated for the work you do. When you’re about to reply, a yawn forces its way out. Quickly you cover your mouth with your hand.

“Oh, I have to apologize.” The doctor almost gasps. “We were working so nicely, I completely forgot the time. You must be exhausted.”

“Honestly, I am.” You truthfully admit. “But It’s no big deal, I’ll go for a nap asap once we’re done.”

The doctor is about to admonish you for not telling him earlier, when the guard on the watchtower announces their bosses return. Saviors hurry to get the gates open in time for the trucks to enter. Negan's convoy is driving in, coming to a stop further into the courtyard.

A big smile finds its way on your face, as you watch the Saviors exit their vehicles. Your eyes search for their leader when you suddenly notice that no one else is waiting for him. 

An ugly feeling suddenly tightens your chest, forcing your smile to vanish. You find yourself wondering why none of his wifes are welcoming him back. Come to think of it, neither were they seeing him off in the morning. Not that you care to come in contact with any of them but their absence still strikes you as odd.

Subconsciously do you nip on your lower lip again, as you feel your chest getting even tighter. But the little voice in your head is forgotten, when you finally see the man you've been waiting for rounding the trucks. Once his eyes meet yours, they seem to light up. With big strides he's coming towards you with the signature smile of his.

“Hello there, Sweet Thing.” He greets you, resting his hands on your waist. “Been waitin’ for me?”

“Oh, don't flatter yourself,” you chuckle. “This was purely a coincidence.”

With an even brighter smile, Negan carefully pulls you closer to him. As he leans down, you sling your arms around his neck, meeting him halfway, kissing him.

Jolts deep in the pit of your belly spread fuzzy warmth through your whole body, loosening up the tight knot in your chest when you feel his warm frame against yours. His stubbles scrape over your skin and his smell surrounds you. He deepens the kiss, entwining his tongue with yours and you become wax in his hands. 

It feels just as tender and sweet like it had this morning. You smile into the kiss, completely reveling in the bliss.

Franky observes the scene with watchful eyes, taking a sip from her glass of whine as she's looking out of the window. Her nose wrinkles in disgust. Eventually she turns her head towards Sherry, who is reading on a lounger. “Guess that must be her.”

Masterlist / Negan x Rick's Daughter Series

Chapter Index:

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 - COMING SOON!

Taglist: @starry-night-20 / @joceymoo / @srhxpci / @ladykxxx08 / @sunneeflower / @frombloodandflesh / @aleeeesa /@lanamiller / @fanfic-n-tabulous / @noirfan12 / @abbiesxox / @elinafresk / @obsessiveformiyatwins / @kokushibosgirl / @syrma-sensei / @oceandolores / @raininhell / @esposadomd

[sheriffgrimes-archerdixon]

Re-learning to love yourself

Okay I got this idea from a spoiler I saw on TOWL of Rick and michonne touching each others scars or something like that. And I was thinking wouldn’t it just be ADORABLE if reader and Daryl share that same experience. I haven’t seen TOWL so excuse me while I just vaguely base this off it… without actually watching it. Haha. Also thank you thank you THANK YOU for nearly 400 followers I absolutely adore every single one of you beautiful people.

Trigger warnings: scars, self harm scars, vulnerability, sensitive moments, self hatred. If sensitive to any of this loves please do not read. F reader- will do M reader if requested.

-

“What happened…?”

Daryl’s voice was soft as he gazed down at you, torso exposed but bra still on as you showed him the scar that trailed from your collar bone and all the way down to your breast. “The governor.” You spoke softly and Daryl seemed to grimace at that name “Maggie got it worse but… yeah.” You mumbled softly, and to your surprise you watched as he removed his shirt. Sure you both weren’t a “couple” you were more friends with benefits who enjoyed each others company in bed sometimes, but only for make out sessions and such. Nothing big… just soft tender love.

He then slowly turned around, he seemed to shake slightly from head to toe clearly nervous about showing you something so vulnerable. You slowly stood from the bed and walked towards him reaching your hand out as your fingers gently traced against the tip of the scar, his body flinching slightly at the sudden contact against something that hadn’t been touched before. “Sorry.” You quickly retracted your hand expecting him to pull away but instead he spoke softly, “no… it’s okay. Do it again.”

And so you did- placing your fingertips against the scar on the top left of his shoulder blade tracing the curve of it, before your fingertips slowly spidered over to the right hand side of his back to where one of the ‘X’ laid, and you slowly traced your finger against the lines his body tensing every now and then but he didn’t tell you to stop “what happened… I know… those psycho kids did this to you.. but— why?”

Daryl remained silent for a few moments only shrugging “the crazy woman said the ‘X’ was a sign of strength… but I think it’s ugly. She was just branding us like fucking cattle.” He grunted out, your fingertips moved down to his lower back where you stroked against the ‘X’ branded against his skin “not ugly.” You reassured gently before tracing your hand more against his scars. “She had brainwashed her children practically… turned them feral.. they were obsessed with punishing us.” He spoke quietly almost sounding embarrassed.

Eventually though he turned around looking into your eyes, your eyes scanning along his chest for a moment or two but your thoughts were quickly pulled away as you looked into his eyes “what happened to your wrists?” You felt your breath hitch momentarily and you glanced down at the healed over scars but they still looked ghastly to you. “I hurt myself.” You spoke honestly and he frowned slightly, he understood why, he hurt himself too sometimes, but why you? A beautiful young woman. “Why?” He questioned after a few moments before you looked down sighing heavily, and he gently reached his fingers out touching against your cheek making you look at him again “talk to me.”

You gazed into his eyes before smiling sadly “I hated myself.” You explained softly Daryl soon crouching in front of you as you sat back down on the bed “I disliked everything about myself. I had lost my family.. I didn’t think I had any reason to keep living…” Daryl listened nodding his head, and as a silence fell upon the both of you he moved his hand down to your wrist “can I touch?” He asked and you nodded simply watching as his calloused fingers gently rubbed against your healed over scars “they’re disgusting. I’m sorry..” daryl frowned and looked back at you “no. I think they’re… beautiful….”

You smiled softly and shook your head “not beautiful.” You murmured sadly, Daryl’s fingertips continuing to brush against the lines that dug up and down your wrists before he did something that surprised you, he brought your wrist up as he leaned down pressing a singular kiss to the largest cut on your skin, it was such a soft moment it could’ve made you cry if you weren’t careful. “Butterfly’s can’t see their wings…” he trailed off pressing another little kiss to your scar “but they’re beautiful without knowing it.” You were so taken aback by his beautiful words that you barely recognised the tears forming in your eyes. No one had treated your scars so beautifully before…

Soon his hand came to caress against your cheek rubbing his thumb against your skin “you’re beautiful…” his words were honest yet hesitant still, clearly not sure whether you wanted to hear that again, before he slowly leaned in pressing a kiss to your lips a slow passionate kiss that held a lot of love and affection within it. Eventually he slowly pulled back holding your face in his hands as you gazed down at him “oh Daryl.” Your hand came up to caress against his cheek “I think I’m in love with you.” You murmured softly and he smiled at you, nodding his head “I think…— no… I know I’m in love with you too.” He spoke before leaning in and kissing you again over and over, the both of you sharing such a special moment together… only for your eyes only… only for his eyes only. Forever and always shared between the both of you.

[evilrobotdog]

Walking Dead characters as warrior cats to make my old middle school self happy... If people like these I’ll make more. Feel free to request characters even haha

BTW im only on s5 right now

[cansadadessavida12]

I can explain-

warning: implied sex.

A/n: English is not my first language, forgive any mistakes.

The only sounds that could be heard in the room were their heavy breathing, and Rick's light snores. Both naked bodies were covered by thin sheets. The legs were interconnected, but the torsos were separate. It was a funny scene from above. Her dark, curly hair was spread across the pillow, and due to its length, its ends reached Rick's face. However, they were both comfortably and peacefully sleeping.

They were like that until the door was abruptly opened and the voice of Daryl, the woman's older brother, filled the room.

As soon as Daryl saw the scene, he froze. The woman, in shock, falls to the ground, taking the sheet with her and letting out a slight scream. Rick quickly grabs a pillow and covers himself, looking over at her to see if she was okay.

"Shit, Daryl..." She starts, thinking of a good excuse. But there was no excuse. The scene made it very clear what had happened. "I can explain-"

"I think I understand everything-" Daryl says, slowly walking towards the door, backwards. He had a look of embarassment mixed with shock. Before anyone could say anything, He steps out of the room and closes the door.

The woman looks at Rick, still on the ground. Rick looks back at her. They both start giggling nervously.

"At least we don't have to tell him anymore-"

[iluffyouxo]

𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚎

╰┈➤ 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚢𝚕 𝚍𝚒𝚡𝚘𝚗 𓆩♡𓆪

If I had stayed quiet longer, would you still have waited for me?

⋰⋰⋰⋰⋰

He caught her arm as she began to walk away. His eyes were pleading, but she quickly snatched her arm out of his steely grip. “No, Daryl. I can’t…you don’t get to look at me that way.”

What had he done so wrong to deserve a statement such as that? Daryl truly could not pinpoint where Bishop’s anguish stemmed from.

“An’ you don’ get to walk away,” his voice was strained, tight from the fear of crying.

Bishop turned to him, her stare cold as she gave an incredulous expression. “Can’t I? You’ve been running away for as long as I’ve known you.” Her voice was composed and tone full of poise; Glenn had taught Daryl long ago that his sister’s calmness was one to fear in these circumstances.

Daryl gulped thickly, “I have no idea what yer talkin’ ‘bout.” The lie seemed to escape him before he could fully comprehend his words.

He blinks stupidly. Bishop scoffs, “Are you serious?” Her laugh was scathing.

He was bewildered within her amusement—what exactly had been so funny? Bishop was quick to throw on her boots (she was beginning to grow jaded of the topic). She had to leave, get out and take a turn about the prison. She felt that if this conversation prolonged, the entire prison will hear them.

“Why did I think this would work…?” She questioned, herself mostly, as she walked towards the covered entrance of her cell. “I have to go.”

If Bishop seemed as if she could leave barefoot earlier, then now—with her shoes on—there was nothing stopping her from abandoning him. This would be his one and only chance to make up for his indifference (lest he wish for the treatment he’s bestowed upon her all this time).

“Bishop, ’m sorry. Please. I’m beggin’ you.”

She shook her head. This was becoming a bit too ridiculous. Especially for the end of the world. Duchess-Bishop Rhee pining after a man when she couldn’t even find something proper to eat that wasn’t spoiled or already tampered with. To say she was emotionally exhausted was a severe understatement.

“You’re only speaking like this now because of Glenn and Maggie.” He stayed quiet. Her words were true after all. Daryl couldn’t—or rather shouldn’t—argue the obvious.

Why had it taken her brother and his “wife” to get kidnapped by the Governor for Daryl to finally accept his feelings towards Bishop? “I’m pathetic.”

She still stood close to the doorway, a curt nod her only response. She was still ready to leave when the moment called for an immediate distance from him. For now the silent treatment didn’t seem completely necessary. However, her back still faced him. Daryl couldn’t tell what she was thinking as he continued.

“I’m pathetic,” he repeated. “I’m an idiot. I’m an asshole. I’m everythin’ yer thinkin’ right now.” He took a few steps forward, stepping light as to not startle her away. “I’ll be every bad guy in the book to ya, if only to make up for it.”

Bishop froze, having been lost in her own thoughts, Daryl’s words a hushed buzz in the back of her mind, and she looked up at the sound of footsteps closing in. She held her breath as she saw Rick carrying baby Judith through the almost sheer fabric of her black and red curtains. “I dunno what you are to me right now,” she finally managed to say once she felt Rick was out of earshot.

Daryl’s heart pounded loudly at her words (and he was damn certain she could hear it, too).

In his old life before the pandemic—before Bishop—Daryl was about the most unlovable asshole this side of the Chattahoochee River. Even Merle would get laid every now and again. But Daryl? He had only ever had a few kisses throughout his teens, and the girls would always regret it right afterwards.

Daryl had spent countless nights wondering if it was worth ignoring the obvious mutual affection between the two of them. Going mad over what exactly the most perfect woman he had ever met saw in an alley redneck like him.

He was truly confused about the attraction, and it caused him to withdraw, to become cold and distant.

Now he understood the consequences of his reaction. “‘M sorry I hurt you; I didn’ mean for it to affect ya like that. I was bein’ selfish.” Daryl didn’t want to lose her all because he couldn’t get it together.

Bishop finally turned to him, a small smile playing at her lips. “I know the world is fucked up right now. And if I lost you…I might lose my mind—“ Bishop gulped down her nerves, “—but I wanna try this with you. Right now.” She shrugs, holding back hot tears that threatened to fall and swayed in her eyes, “I like you Daryl. Quite a lot, actually.”

And, with teary eyes, she pulls him into a hug. “I won’t fault you for saying no. Just know that the offer still stands…and probably will for a long time.”

Before Daryl could react she’s pulled away and headed outside again, this time with a lighter air about her. “You’ll always get your way with me, Daryl Dixon.” A soft chuckle bounces throughout the room as Bishop finally leaves. Daryl is left to wonder once again how he ended up so lucky.

And left to ponder on the perfect way to ask the most perfect girl out.

[willowsartfuldreamz]

WIP of Daryl Dixon im working at them moment!!!

[sayafics]

Ghost - Masterlist

Her name was Casper Graham. At least, she thought it was. After waking up in a hospital room with no recollection of how she got there, Casper was forced to navigate the world of the dead. Lucky for her, she had found Rick Grimes when she had woken up, and following him had led her to meet Daryl Dixon, Glenn Rhee, and many other people she soon saw as family Things were supposed to be simple - find Rick's family and stay safe. But when feelings and desires are added into the mix, things can become much trickier, especially when Casper found herself conflicted between the two men. It didn't help that they were enamoured by her either, hanging on to her every word and following her every whim. The apocalypse was already a hard thing to deal with, but this might make things worse. Or maybe it might just make it more interesting?

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

Chapter IV

Chapter V

Chapter VI

Chapter VII

Chapter VIII

Chapter IX

Chapter X

[d1xonss]

Desert Rose

Chapter 9 ~ Sophia?

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Rose

✧ Era : Season 2

✧ Word Count : 5k

In this chapter ~ After processing the panic and loss the group members had faced, they found themselves held up on a highway as one of their vehicles unfortunately broke down on their way to find sanctuary somewhere else. Though in the midst of searching through the other abandoned cars that lied there, a sudden herd of walkers began to tear through the space. But that's not the only thing that goes wrong as someone suddenly disappears.

It had been a whole week, seven painfully long days, and yet we were still on the road, fighting to find a place to stay since the CDC quite literally went up in flames. I found myself slowing coming to the terms with the events, accepting them, assuming it was just the initial shock that made me so reserved. I began to keep my head up in hopes that it would bring us some kind of luck for the days to come. Though I felt as if they were anything but.

The car ride was spent in a content silence as we drove down the roads, occasionally taking a glance to the man in the driver's seat as I absentmindedly fiddled with one of my knives. I still hadn't forgotten what he had said to me, but I managed to push it out of my mind. I'm a big girl, I wasn't about to mope around about how a man hurt my feelings, hell no. Especially since he hadn't been that harsh with me since. Maybe that was his own way of processing the things we had lost. Irritation...resentment. It wouldn't surprise me, which is why I didn't dwell on it for very long.

Two loud honks coming from the RV is what caused me to look up, a chain reaction following as we all collectively pulled over behind the giant vehicle. The group leisurely made their way out of their parked cars to crowd around where Dale was standing as he opened up the gas tank.

"I'm almost out of fuel." he informed, "There doesn't seem to be anywhere we can fill up for a couple hundred miles"

Shane sighed heavily before looking around to the many vehicles we still had, lined up perfectly on the side of the road, "Well, what if we siphon the gas from a few of these cars and narrow it down a bit?"

Everyone seemed to be on board with the idea, mostly because we had pulled over in the middle of nowhere and the quietness that lingered made people grow uneasy. A few of the guys crowded around to transfer the gas from one automobile to the other, the rest gathering what was left of their belongings to situate into what remained. It was then I noticed Daryl climbing up in the bed of the truck, maneuvering his brother's motorcycle out of the back.

My brows furrowed, "What are you doing?" I asked, pausing toward the front of the pickup.

He stopped to glance up at me, "M' gonna use the gas in the truck for the motorcycle, it don't run out as fast."

I simply nodded in understanding before swinging the passenger door open. I could briefly hear him pick up the bike again to move it slowly and carefully down to the ground, whilst I hauled my backpack over one of my shoulders. The door closed with a slam behind me as I made my way to the RV, going to ride with Glenn and the others.

"Where do ya think yer goin?" Daryl's voice unexpectedly called out.

I turned to face him again, "The RV." I stated simply, "You're not taking the truck anymore."

His lip quirked up a bit, "Well...there's two seats on a motorcycle, don't know if ya realized that." he spoke a bit sarcastically.

I rolled my eyes, "I'm aware."

"Then why you goin to the RV?" he asked.

I didn't utter another word as I shrugged, not wanting to give him the real answer. I knew he would probably poke fun at me if he knew the truth behind my hesitance. But also, my silence was apparently the only answer he needed as his smile only grew, the wheels turning faster in his big head.

"Yer not scared, are ya?" he asked as he tilted his head.

"No." I scoffed.

He then gave me a pointed look. I caved. "Okay, fine, maybe a little." I admitted sheepishly.

A small chuckle escaped him at my recognition, ducking his head to the ground to try and silence them, "I've never ridden on one before, alright? With my luck, I'd just fly off the back and bust my ass."

"Hey, it's simple," he attempted to reassure, "All ya gotta do is hang on. That's it. The hard part, well, that's on me." he said, his gaze shifting as he started to transfer the gas.

My mind pondered over the idea as I watched him. I did trust him, but I never really liked the idea of riding on a motorcycle, no matter who was driving it. It made me uneasy, seeing the thing was nowhere near safe in my eyes.

But after debating with myself for a few painfully long seconds, I finally huffed. "Fine."

He didn't look up at me, but I could see his small, victorious smile just before I turned to head into the RV, putting my belongings inside. Though just a few short minutes of everyone siphoning gas and getting adjusted into the different cars, it was time to hit the road again to try and find a safe place to camp out for a while.

I dreadfully made my way back over toward the bike, seeing Daryl already sitting there ready to go. He immediately sensed how nervous I was, only giving me a subtle nod in support as he waited for me to get on. I sighed deeply to myself in regret, before slowly swinging my leg over to get on behind him, hesitantly wrapping my arms around his waist, trying to ignore how fast my heart was beating. Though I couldn't tell if it was because I was getting on a death machine or because of how close I was to him...or both.

His muscles tensed a bit when I touched him without warning, but slowly he began to relax after awkwardly clearing his throat. Once he saw the RV moving, he started the bike up and revved the engine loudly a few times, before we started moving to catch up with it.

My heart was in my throat as I subtly held on tighter, trying to get used to the abrupt quickness. I then felt him then subtly glance back at me, almost as if to make sure I was okay, before doing something that would make my stomach flip.

Suddenly, we started going much faster and he began to smile before bringing the bike up quickly to do a fucking wheelie. I yelped and tightened my arms around his waist, tightly shutting my eyes and all I could feel was his laughter vibrating through his body at my reaction. I hit him on the chest, and I could practically feel the cockiness radiating off of him. Asshole.

We drove quickly down the long roads, the wind whipping me in the face for what felt like hours as I clung to Daryl's broad frame. I hadn't really opened my eyes the entire time he drove, only wanting to get it over with faster before I never trusted him again. The small wheelie he did made the pit in my stomach grow.

But my face scrunched in confusion as I felt the man slow down drastically, taking a chance to open my eyes the smallest bit to see what was going on. Though they instantly widened at the sight, seeing we had come across a highway with a shit ton of abandoned cars scattered all over the place. Everyone else seemed to notice at the same time what we were dealing with, slowing down almost completely once we saw the mess.

Daryl realized quickly that the RV was too big to push through, and he picked up his pace again to drive around and align himself with the window to talk to Dale.

"See a way through?" the old man asked.

Daryl nodded briefly before we got in front of the vehicle to lead the way. He swerved through the narrow path gracefully, gliding past them with ease as he tried to guide them as best as he could. It was all going fine, until we heard an unexpected, loud pop come from the RV, looking back to see Dale swerving it off to the side. The rest of us quickly pulled over to see what was wrong, watching the older man coming out of the vehicle looking pissed, popping the hood where the smoke was rising.

"I said it didn't I? A thousand times I said it, dead in the water." he ranted out loud.

"Problem Dale?" Shane asked.

"Oh, just a matter of being stuck in the middle of nowhere, with no hope of-" he cut himself off suddenly once he took the time to look around at the many cars potentially filled with supplies, "Okay, that was dumb." he finished.

Shane huffed, "Can't find a radiator hose here." 

Daryl came up behind me to glance into the car I set my gaze on, "But there's a whole bunch of stuff we can find." 

"We can siphon more fuel if anything." I spoke.

"Maybe some water." Carol suggested.

"Or food." Glenn piped in.

"This is a graveyard." Lori stated nervously, glancing around at all the cars and noticing the bodies that lied in some of them, "I don't like this." 

I stared at the woman for a moment, glancing towards everyone else who seemed to be thinking the same thing, before we all collectively dispersed to see what supplies we could find despite her subtle protests.

"Yeah, alright spread out see what you can find." Shane said awkwardly as he watched most of us walk away.

I began picking through as many cars as I could, looking through every nook and cranny to make sure they were completely cleaned out before moving to the next. And in the end it seemed the luck I was searching for finally came through. There was water, canned food, some clothes, and even a larger knife that looked to be brand new. Maybe this setback was just a blessing in disguise seeing as it wasn't a total waste.

In the midst of my daydreaming state, I heard a series of footsteps slowly making their way over to me, looking up to see Rick approaching. He leaned against the hunk of rusty metal, "Hey...how you doing?" he asked.

"I'm good," I smiled faintly. "Why do you ask?" I questioned as I dug through some older boxes.

"Well, I noticed you were a little shaken up from the CDC...just wanted to check up on you." he replied.

My eyes softened a bit at his concern. Well, that's adorable. "I mean, I think it's safe to say we were all pretty unsettled...just trying to move past it." I said to which he nodded in agreement, "How are you doing after all of that?"

He shrugged, "As good as I can be. It was a lot but...I'm thinking we'll be alright, hopefully find a place sooner than later." 

I could tell there was something else on his mind, something more than what happened at the CDC, but I wasn't going to ask. I figured if he wanted to tell me then he would eventually when the time was right, but not now. Not when we were currently stuck here for however long until the RV was fixed up to move again.

I simply nodded to what he said, feeling him give my shoulder a gentle nudge before he walked a little ways back to keep looking with the rest of us. When I turned back to the trunk I was once buried in, I was slightly disappointed to find there was nothing worth taking so I stepped back with a sigh, my eyes searching around absentmindedly to find a different car.

But I didn't make it very far before a pair of arms wrapped around me, their hand going over my mouth as if somehow knowing I would make a noise. My head whipped back around only to find Rick was the one holding me still, a panicked and fearful look on his face. I went to push him away from me with the intention to ask what the hell he was doing, but he instantly put his finger up to his lips. That caught my attention as he slowly removed his hand from my face, hurriedly ushering me under the car right next to us.

I grew very confused as we both slipped under the car, until I heard the walkers, a lot of them, slowly making their way down the highway and through the cars, seeing the amount passing us just through the small opening visible under the vehicle. My hand instinctively grabbed Rick's in shock as I covered my mouth so I wouldn't attract any of them towards our hiding place, and prayed that a group this big wouldn't find any of us. Rick looked over at me and slowly placed his other hand on top of mine, to try and calm his nerves a bit as his breathing picked up drastically from the shock.

All I could seem to think about in that moment were the others that were scattered around the large space. I knew all of them were smart enough to hide, to get out of sight, but still anything could happen. Especially when it came to something as big as this.

It felt like ages before the last few walkers made their way past us, both Rick and I collectively letting out a sigh of relief once they slowly seemed to continue to move along down the endless roads.

But all the tension seemed to rebuild in a split second when we heard a scream. An ear-piercing scream. My gaze zeroed in on the direction of the noise, only to see Sophia being chased by two walkers off the highway and towards the tree line, into the woods just to the right of us. Rick didn't hesitate. He quickly let go of my hand and scooted out from under the space as fast as he could, booking it towards the woods to save her as he pulled out his gun.

"Rick, wait!" I whisper yelled, but he was already too far gone.

Letting out another breath, I crawled out from underneath the car with the intention to follow right behind him. But then I paused when I thought of the rest of the group, wanting to make sure they were all okay. The walk was long and almost painful as I made my way back to the RV where I assumed they would meet up, the anticipation was beginning to kill me. But finally, it began to come into view, watching their attention turn toward me once they sensed my movement.

Carl was the first one to rush over the second he spotted me, his feet slapping loudly on the ground as he ran forward to tackle me in a hug. I couldn't help but smile as I leaned down to hold him tightly, making sure he was alright before taking a glance up at everyone else. For the most part they all seemed fine, alive at the very least. But I couldn't seem to ignore Carol's distress and T-Dog's sudden injury.

My eyes then panned over to see Daryl lingering nearby out of the corner of my vision, seeing him hesitantly approach. He awkwardly stood at my side for a moment before placing a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it a little.

"You good?" he asked.

"Yeah, you?"

He nodded as he slightly chewed his lip, and then did something I didn't expect him to do. He gave me a side hug and rested his chin on top of my head for a second or two, before ducking his head and moving back to grab something from his bike.

My expression softened as I watched him for a moment while he walked away, my heart fluttering the smallest bit at the action I never would've guessed he would dare to do. I found myself smiling knowingly to myself. Maybe, just maybe, he cared a bit more than I realized.

But my smile seemed to vanish when I caught sight of Carol now sobbing in Lori's arms for her daughter. Her head continued to lift up from time to time to watch the woods ahead of her in anticipation, but there was nothing. Nobody else said a word as we all silently waited with her, watching and hoping to see Rick coming up over the small hill with Sophia safe in his hold.

The wait seemed to drag on and on, leaving everyone on the edge of their seat which surely was only making time go by slower. But we all seemed to perk up the smallest bit upon hearing something rustling in the trees. Rick emerged from the woods looking absolutely exhausted, but when I saw he didn't have Sophia, my heart broke even more for Carol.

"Where is she?" Dale asked him almost immediately.

"She didn't make it back up here?" he asked breathlessly.

We all shook our heads.

A crushed look passed over his face, but didn't linger for long as he racked his brain for what to do next. His logic working faster than the emotions he tried to keep hidden. He quickly ushered a few of us to round up and head back off into the woods to look for her, wanting to have more eyes on our surroundings. However, we didn't seem to make it very far through the forest before Rick stopped walking and pointed to a small tree trunk where he had told her to hide.

He stated that this was where he left her, the last place he saw her before he left to take care of the walkers. But upon looking around the area, she was absolutely nowhere in sight.

"Sure this is where ya left her?" Daryl asked first, looking around the hiding spot for any sign of where she could've gone.

"I left her right here. I drew the walkers way off in that direction," he pointed east, "Right up the creek."

"Without a paddle...seems where we've landed." Daryl spoke.

Rick then sighed stressfully, "She was gone by the time I got back here, I figured she just took off and ran back to the group. I told her to go that way and keep the sun on her left shoulder."

My eyes stayed glued to the ground as he talked, trying to see if I could find any of her tracks when I noticed Glenn was conveniently standing right in the way. I opened my mouth to say something, but Daryl quickly beat me to the punch as he noticed too.

"Hey, short round, why don't ya step off to one side. Yer mucking up the trail." he snapped.

Glenn looked down as soon as it was drawn to his attention, awkwardly moving to the right to be out of the way as he muttered an apology. I stepped around him, trying to make out which way she ran with all the other tracks surrounding her trail which only made things more difficult.

"Assuming she knows her right from her left." Shane suddenly muttered.

My eyes snapped up to fix him with a glare, "Are you fucking serious? Right and left don't matter when you're running for your damn life."

The man opened his mouth to say something, but Rick quickly cut him off, "Hey, hey, enough, she understood me just fine." he insisted.

Shane huffed in frustration, "Kid's tired and scared man. She had a close call with two walkers, you gotta wonder how much of what you said stuck."

"Well, I got clear prints right here." I announced as I pointed to the ground, "She did like you said, headed back to the highway."

When I was only met with silence, I looked over my shoulder to see they all had their eyes on me with mildly shocked expressions. Daryl came up behind me to see if what I found was actually true, his eyes glancing back to me as he seemed a little impressed.

"You can track?" he asked.

I nodded as if it was obvious, "Yeah, my dad used to take my sister and I hunting all the time. How else do you think I survived that long on my own? Luck?" 

He only shrugged, "Nah...guess I just didn't expect it." he said as he gently nudged my arm.

I smiled a little before we headed off to follow the trail her small feet left behind. From what I could see they weren't as fresh which meant she was further away than I originally thought, causing the disappointment to resurface. It fell silent between us as the rest of them followed behind Daryl and I. But my steps slowed once I noticed she started going a completely different direction after only following the path for a few short minutes.

"She was doing just fine till right here, all she had to do was keep going. She veered off that way." Daryl spoke.

"Why would she do that?" Glenn asked.

Shane shrugged, "Maybe she saw something that spooked her, made her run off."

"A walker?" Glenn questioned.

"There's no other footprints but hers." I replied.

Rick piped in, "How about you and Glenn go back up to the highway," he directed toward Shane, "People are going to start panicking. Let them know we're on her trail doing everything we can. But most of all keep everyone calm."

"I'll keep them busy scavenging cars. Keep them occupied." Shane nodded.

After the two of them quickly went off, it was silent between us once again. I knew we all had the same exact question on our minds, but no one dared to say it out loud as if putting it out into the universe would change everything. I could tell Rick felt extremely guilty for leaving her in the first place, but how could he have known? It was just an accident, something far beyond his control.

"Tracks are gone." Rick suddenly stated, looking towards the ground with furrowed brows.

I shook my head, "No, they're just faint. She came right through here." I said, pointing through the small bushes she pushed through.

"How can you tell? All I see is...dirt and grass." he replied with a furrow of his brow.

"Ya want a lesson on trackin, or you wanna find that girl and get our asses off that interstate?" Daryl was quick to clap back, clearly not having an ounce of patience for Rick's questioning.

The man seemed to sallow his words as he nodded, keeping quiet as we both followed Daryl deeper into the woods. We walked for a little bit longer, staying low to the ground, before we heard the familiar moans from a lone walker approaching.

I stepped up immediately, getting my knife ready as I spotted it through a few scattered trees. My arm raised as I threw it straight at its head the second it started to take notice to us. A sigh left my lips as I walked over to its limp body and pulled the knife out, wiping the blood off on its shirt before placing it back in my belt.

"This walker fed recently." Rick stated as he got low to the ground to examine it.

I tilted my head as I looked down, "How can you tell?"

"Skin under the fingernails." Rick listed, "And in its teeth."

"Only one way to know for sure it's not her." Daryl hinted as he then glanced towards me, "Can I use one of yer knives?" he asked.

I nodded and began to reach for one, but then remembered the weapon I found earlier in one of the cars. The knife was very sharp and bigger than my throwing knives, having a few little divots in the blade towards the handle that reminded me of a key. In my mind it would work better than the duller ones that I had that desperately needed to be sharpened.

I grabbed for it behind my belt, "Here." I muttered as I handed it over.

He took it from my hand and did a double take when he saw it, "This is new," he stated to my surprise, "When'd ya get it?"

"In one of the cars. I thought it was a good find." I replied with a shrug.

He nodded in acknowledgement before not wasting any more time as he raised the weapon in the air, bringing it down harshly and beginning to cut the walker open. The smell was always the worst part about these things and it's something I'll probably never get used to. I stood off to the side as I watched the scene in slight disgust, scrunching my face up at the sounds.

They looked inside the corpse for a few long moments, fishing around through its dark guts before finding out that it wasn't Sophia and just a random animal. How they could tell the difference, I had no fucking idea. But at least it wasn't her.

Relief seemed to fill us once we knew for sure she was still alive out here. But we needed to start heading back, knowing it would be nearly dark by the time we made it up to the highway.

The last thing any of us wanted to do was leave her out here for the night, but we didn't really have another choice. We wouldn't be able to track her down in the dark and would only be going around in circles hopelessly until the sun rose again. So, after debating with each other, we made the tough decision to head back and give the news to the others.

As we trucked through the woods, Daryl started asking me when I started to learn how to track suddenly out of the blue. I actually saw him get a little excited that someone shared the same interest as him, even if he tried to not show that he was, I knew. It was almost amusing seeing him talk about the things he liked to do most, and I answered every question he threw at me.

We seemed to get lost in the conversation until Rick announced we were almost there, barely being able to see the road through the trees. I was a little disappointed that our talk seemed to be cut short and by the looks of it, so was he. Now the guilty feeling was just washing right back over me the second I saw Carol's disappointed and fearful face.

Her expression dropped the second she saw us appear from the woods, "You didn't find her?" she asked almost instantly.

"Her trail went cold. We'll pick it up again at first light." Rick announced.

"You can't leave my daughter out there on her own, to spend a night alone in the woods." she continued, her voice breaking towards the end.

"Out in the dark's no good." Daryl advised, "We'd just be trippin over ourselves. More people get lost."

"I know it's hard, but I'm asking you not to panic. We know she was out there. We have to make this an organized effort, Daryl and Rose know the woods better than anybody. I've asked them to oversee this." Rick said as he placed a hand on her shoulder.

Carol's eyes then trailed down to the blood splattered lightly on Daryl's clothes, "Is that blood?" she asked worriedly.

"We took down a walker, but it wasn't near Sophia." I assured.

"How do you know?" she asked me.

"We cut that son of a bitch open, made sure." Daryl said.

Carol's sadness then slowly started to turn into anger right before our very eyes as she looked at Rick, asking him how he could just leave her like that. I knew he was trying to stay calm with her, but I could also clearly see he looked stressed enough, not needing a guilt trip from the sobbing mother. I just stayed completely silent as I looked down at my feet, while they only seemed to go back and forth with each other.

But the conversation ended with her small voice, still saddened and broken, "My little girl got left alone in the woods." she said in disbelief before turning away from the man, not daring to say another word.

That's when I started to feel even more terrible, feeling as if I didn't do enough to help her. Maybe I should've gone with Rick, or maybe I should go back out right now to continue the search.

I didn't know what to do with myself, finding myself slowly walking off, away from everyone. Glenn's voice called out my name when he caught me slipping away, but I ignored him, I just wanted to be alone for a little while. I knew he would understand in the end, feeling the need to process one blow after another as I escaped their distant voices.

Sitting myself down on the hood of one of the abandoned, rusted cars, I took the time to decompress after the events. How it all seemed to happen so fast; just like that she was gone. How easy it was for her to just get lost in hardly any time at all while Rick turned his back for only minutes. It only made me worry further that we didn't find much of anything other than the footprints imprinted in the dirt. And even those ran cold.

Subtle approaching footsteps is what caused me to roll my eyes, "Just leave it alone Glenn, we'll talk tomorrow." I muttered, not turning to face him.

"It's me."

I glanced over my shoulder in slight surprise to see Daryl standing there instead, his expression unreadable as I still said nothing. He took my silence as somewhat of an invitation as he hesitantly made his way over to the hood and sat down beside me, looking above him at the night sky. My eyes didn't stray from him as I found myself silently appreciating these moments, simply because he understood when I didn't feel the need or want to speak. He would just sit there quietly, not starting any kind of discussion unless I did first. I picked up on the pattern, but each time I seemed to appreciate more and more.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" I said lightheartedly, referring to the last time I sought him out.

He huffed a small laugh before turning to face me, "Nah. Just...wanted to make sure yer okay."

I smiled at him and scooted a little closer before I let my head fall onto his shoulder for some type of comfort. He tensed a little bit but not even a second later he began to relax. We didn't say anything else, just sat there listening to our surroundings and staring at the hundreds of cars still scattered in front of us.

That was until I heard a small "oh " come out of his mouth like he had forgotten something. I shifted my head and looked over to see he had pulled out the new knife I previously gave him, dangling it in front of my face trying to give it back. But I shook my head simply in response, leaving him slightly confused.

"Keep it." I said simply.

His brows pulled together, "Ya sure?" 

"Trust me I've got plenty." I assured.

He smiled at me in appreciation before putting it back wordlessly while my head fell back on his shoulder, only this time, he didn't tense.

~ Thanks for reading!

[boygiwrites]

Harley D. Dixon 35

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Author's Note.

Cue my giddy snickering.

"So, what'd you do?" My Dad asks the prisoners, as we're eating breakfast in the courtyard the next morning. "Whose life you ruin?"

All the walker bodies have been dragged into a pile over by the dumpsters and burnt into nothing more than a few lumps of charcoal, leaving the courtyard as quiet as it's been since we got here. With the snarls and growls finally gone, I can hear birds chirping on the roofs of the cell blocks, the beautiful sound of silence beyond them. It might be the first time we've been completely sealed away from danger.

If Rick wasn't still inside with Lori, Carl, and the baby, I think he'd feel the same way.

"Nobody's but my own, man," Oscar chuckles dryly. He shakes his head, spooning some stewed corn and beans into his mouth, chewing absentmindedly. "There's nothing more to it than my people were poor as dirt. Got to be that I was dumb and desperate enough to steal from a Walmart. I should'a been handing my resume in, or something, but no. Sentenced three years over a pack of diapers."

I look up from my bowl to study the regret on his face, finding myself surprised. Shop-lifting diapers?

That wasn't what I thought he was in prison for at all.

"Sorry to hear that," Glenn says sympathetically, exactly my thoughts. "World wasn't exactly fair before all this, either."

"Me, I got caught with, y'know," Axel gestures vaguely, "Drugs and stuff. In my car. I was parked outside a police station, and I ain't had a home at the time. I think wanted to get locked up, if that makes sense. I'd been in and out a bunch of times. Only thing I knew."

"Sounds like someone I knew," Dad scoffs, and I know he's talking about my Uncle Merle. "The dumb bastard."

"So, you ain't, like," I frown at the prisoners in confusion, "Bad?"

Oscar laughs a little. "Not everybody who ends up in prison is bad, kid."

"I know that," I argue as I eat another spoonful of stew. "My Daddy was in prison, and he ain't bad. But some of 'em is."

"We ain't had the best track record when it comes to strangers," Maggie explains to them, putting it lightly. "Or even friends."

"Hey," He shrugs. "No offence taken. You gotta be careful out here."

"There were some seriously bad eggs in there, though," Axel agrees with me. "You bet'cha. Made life a livin' Hell for the rest of us."

Oscar looks at my Dad. "You're her Dad, right? You went to prison, too?"

"Arrendale State Prison," He nods, slurping up the stew in his bowl. "February of '04. I was released far before all this shit started."

"What crime?"

"Aggravated manslaughter."

Axel's eyes widen. "Damn, mister. I ain't sayin' you don't look the type, but I would'a thought you stole a car or somethin'."

Wiping his mouth, he smirks. "Who says I ain't did both?"

"Skills like those sound like they'd come in handy nowadays," Oscar says, "So, Hell. We ain't here to judge anyone in your group."

"You gotta stop saying, 'your group'," Maggie scolds him, smiling. "We got off on the wrong foot, but for all intents and purposes, there's only one group here. We ain't have to be best friends or anythin', and we'll be watchin' you, but you've proven yourselves."

"But I thought you said—...?"

Yesterday, we served 'em a death sentence by forcing them outta the gates — Today we're eating stew together. 

"Listen. There was a man named Shane," Glenn levels with them. "He was the first one. He was Rick's best friend for fifteen years and we all watched him go crazy without any power to stop it, until he tried kidnapping Harley. He was shot and beaten to death."

There's the loud, BANG, and the sound of my crying spilling out afterwards. That was one of the worst days of my life.

The prisoners share a glance with each other.

"The second man was Jim," He continues. "He didn't have the best interests of the group at heart and we kicked him out for that. And when we ran into him a few months later, we saw that hadn't changed. He threatened to ruin what we'd built. We hung him in a barn."

That one didn't make much sound at all — Barely a, snap.

"Your friends, Tomas and Andrew. And there were so many others. A group that took over a town near our old farm, people on the road, assholes, thieves. We've got good people here. We're family. But we haven't let our goodness make us idiots."

I'd almost forgotten the violence we'd committed over the past year, the deaths, a hundred little wounds scarred over with time.

Axel and Oscar remain silent as they stomach his words, the underlying threat there — We've killed better men for less.

Shane was Rick's right-hand man, a brother, and one of the most important people to the group, but even that couldn't save him in the end. Jim was a father, a resilient little weasel who worked harder than anybody else back at the quarry, and I saw him die, too. I saw all manner of men die. The prisoners risked their lives by leavin' this place, but they also risked them by comin' back to help us. They chose to do that. I'on know too much about what makes a trustworthy stranger, and I ain't even sure if such a thing exists, but I imagine it's a start. 

"Ya ain't idiots," Axel agrees, looking between Dad, Glenn, and Maggie with his honest eyes. "You can trust us."

Oscar puts on a reassuring smile. "We get it, man."

For two fellers who've just been threatened with torture and execution if they misbehave, they don't look so frightened.

I guess they don't plan on it, then.

"Good," Glenn slowly nods at their answers. "This is the best thing that's ever happened to you, by the way. You're welcome."

Axel's moustache skews to the side as he smiles. "Thank you, dudes."

"And it ain't just kiss-ass for a bowl of stew," Oscar warns us, gesturing with his spoon. "'Cause this shit tastes like ass."

"I'll let the chef know," Maggie jokes.

It looks like our group just got a little bit bigger.

"Go on, then." Dad juts his chin out in the direction of the cell block. "My guess is you ought'a get outta them scrubs if yer stayin'. Just ask for a lady, Carol — She can sort that out for ya. T-Dog's old stuff should fit ya, but I ain't so sure about Stringbean."

"'Stringbean'?" Axel complains, looking down at himself.

"Maybe you can find somethin' in Glenny's wardrobe," Maggie smiles, poking him in the ribs. "Ain't that right?"

"Hardy, har."

As they stand from the table with their empty bowls, Axel adds, "We really appreciate it. Thanks for not letting us die."

"Sure. Git," Dad grits, watching as they make their way back into the prison, before looking at me. "What'chu thinkin', chicken?"

Chewing my stew, I garble, "I gesh dey don't sheem sho bad."

"Nah, they don't," He agrees, reaching out with his spoon to clean the dribble off my chin. "You don't gotta worry about 'em, okay?"

I swallow as he pulls away, warning him, "But I'on think Mouse is a fan. He was growlin' at 'em."

"I'm sure they'll figure that out," Glenn reassures me, chuckling. "If that's the only problem they have, I'd say they got off lucky."

"Not if they screw this up, they won't," I exclaim, raising my spoon like a knife. "That happens, I'mma knife 'em in the knee!"

"Hey, and I'll let'cha," Dad jokes as he puts his hand over mine to lower the spoon. "But right now, I want'chu to finish all yer food."

"Okay, Dad."

Breakfast goes by slowly, like any good morning should.

The baby — Until the Grimes agree on a name, that's what I'll call her. The baby — loves to sleep.

I guess being born takes up just as much energy as giving birth, because Lori says until she's a few months old, this is all she'll do. I can't exactly play soccer with her right now, or even teach her to draw a picture, but I don't mind waiting. She's cute enough just like this, with her eyes closed, small tummy rising and falling with softs breaths as she dozes off in my arms, hopefully dreaming of something sweet.

What do babies dream of? Milk? Sheep, prancing in circles? They even got enough memories to form a nightmare, yet?

Watching on with a fond smile, Lori muses quietly, "I told you."

The baby makes a grunt, squirming around in the tightly swaddled blanket before she relaxes, content.

No. No nightmares.

Looking up at my Dad, I ask him, "Was I like this?"

A faint smirk tugs at his mouth, as if he's recalling a memory. "Nah, you was a fiend. Your Momma and I couldn't get'chu to sleep for nothin'. Had to pace around with you for hours on the porch just for a wink. Sing, hum. Let'chu listen to the rain, cars, birds."

"Sounds like she was a fussy one," Lori smiles, reaching out to stroke her thumb across the baby's smooth head.

"I ain't never met a baby who could pull an angry face quite like Harley could," He scoffs. "Had the temper of a stick of dynamite."

Under the weight of his tired gaze, Rick smirks a little. "So, not much has changed, then." 

Sticking my tongue out at them both, I look back down at the baby, gasping as her eyelids begin to flutter.

"She's openin' her eyes," I exclaim with excitement, handing her off to Lori. Her Momma should be the first thing she sees. Not me!

"Oh, my gosh," The woman breathes.

All at once, with her forehead wrinkled against the brightness of the room, she opens her eyes for the very first time. Green. Wow. They're the same colour as Lori's, dark and pretty like the wet leaves on a forest floor, staring curiously up at the matching pair.

Rick scoots closer and grins down at her, a chuckle escaping him as she studies his face next.

Even though I love my Mom and Dad more than anything in the world, and I wouldn't trade them for anybody else, I can still say with certainty that this baby is real lucky to have a Dad like Rick and even luckier to have a Mom like Lori. She got gentle hands, a voice made for telling fairytales, and the patience of a saint. Her smile is the type that nobody could be mad at when they're on the receivin' end of it.

My Gramma Dixon ain't had one of them smiles. In all the photos I've ever seen of her, she had a smile like a row of yellow piano keys, black holes left where her rotten teeth had fallen out from smoking so much and so often, but I had never seen it in person.

When my Dad was thirteen years old, the same age as Carl, the smoke of a stray cigarette caught onto his Momma's bedsheets while she was sleepin' and she, the house, and everything that was in it went up in flames, with a single black smear to prove it ever stood.

That's why whenever my Dad finishes a cigarette, he spends a second longer than anybody else would making sure it's out.

Glenn's got it right — World wasn't exactly fair before all this, either.

Havin' any Mom, let alone a Mom as good as Lori, was a special thing even before the world went to shit.

"She gon' love havin' you as her Momma," I smile to Lori.

And if you were my Momma, I'm too embarrassed to say, I'd be lucky, too.

As if I've just minced her heart between my fingers, the woman pouts, managing a smile. "Thank you, honey. That's nice of you to say."

I don't ever remember dreaming of milk or sheep or soft things with gentle colors, but I'm glad this baby will, even if just for now.

The sound of the toilet flushing fills my ears as I push past the stall door, approaching my Dad who's waiting for me by the sinks. He lifts me by the armpits onto the little plastic foot stool that Glenn found a few days ago, carefully setting me down on it.

"You sure I can't stay up just a little longer?" I ask as I tweak on the water, pumping soap into my hands.

"How much is, a little longer?"

"Hm... Five minutes?"

"I already let'chu finish yer card game with Carl and Beth," He reminds me. "My generous mood's run out, now. It's late, y'know."

"Okay, Captain Obvious," I sigh, scrubbing my hands together under the water before shutting it off.

"Watch it, Captain Smartass." He takes my hand and helps me jump off the stool, leading me through the door and down the corridor, before he randomly comes to a stop. As I turn around to face him, he crouches down to my level. "But I gotta talk to you first."

"About what?" I pout, worried I might be in trouble. "If Carl told you I cheated at cards, it ain't tru—"

"I ain't talkin' about that," He reassures me, raising his brows. "And you're lucky I ain't, 'cause I'on believe you for a second."

"Okay. Maybe I peeped at Beth's cards."

"Yeah. Maybe." With an empty chuckle, his expression slowly dampens, turning serious. "It's about Axel and Oscar."

"Huh?"

"I trust 'em," He begins, but I got no idea where he's goin' with this. "What I always saw in Shane and all the other douchebags like 'im, I'on see in them. Some folks, you can just tell. Axel's a sorry loser just like yer Daddy and Uncle Merle used to be, and Oscar's a Dad."

My Dad's what some people call, a good judge of character. Nodding along in agreement, I let him continue.

"If I thought they was any sorta threat to you," He promises, "Even if it was just breakin' yer favorite crayon, then—..."

"Then, you'd kill 'em," I finish, remembering the sight of his shadow swinging down on Jim's face through the slats of the shed wall, the big, black bag the paramedics wheeled outta the woods, the way Shane's blood pooled out across the dirty tiles. "I know."

"So, I guess this ain't really about them, 'cause they ain't gonna hurt you. It's about you, baby."

"M—Me?"

"You ain't in trouble." He says again, soothing my nerves. "I prolly should'a had this conversation wit'chu months ago, but you know I ain't so good with 'conversations', so it's happenin' now. I need you to know what happened with Shane weren't your fau—"

"Why are you sayin' that?" I cut him off, feeling like it's wrong for Shane's name to be in his mouth. "I d—"

"Just listen to me." He grabs my shoulders, stern and strong. Quips and hot venom brew on my tongue, but I bite it down, knowing that if I lash out, I'll actually be in trouble. I can't stop him from mentioning Shane, violating him even in that way, like he used to do with my Momma's name when he threw insults at her and told lies about her to strangers. I have to remember — Shane ain't my Momma. They was both sick, but only one loved me. I'm pretending to know which one that was. "It weren't. But we could'a done things differently."

Don't talk to strangers, He and Merle always told me. Is that what he means?

"I-I don't get it," I shake my head in confusion. "I'm allowed to talk to Axel and Oscar. They ain't strangers."

"Neither was Shane, baby." He counters. "Spent so much energy teachin' you not to trust assholes like Ronnie, I ain't never taught you not to trust assholes like Shane — Typa guy that makes it past yer doorstep and tries to be yer friend."

I temper my glare. "What'chu gettin' at, Daddy?"

"You know grown men can't be friends with little girls." He explains patiently, his grip on me tightening. "Rick and Glenn, they're different. They's like yer Uncles. Ya get along with 'em, but they're there to protect ya, just like I am. Axel and Oscar ain't like that. You ever meet anybody like 'em, you don't do anythin' that makes you uncomfortable. You don't give 'em anythin' they want. You don't let 'em trick ya."

Shane. I did all those things with Shane. He did all those things with me.

"And you always tell me if any of that happens. Always. Ya ain't never gon' get in trouble for what other people choose to do."

"The prisoners ain't tried to be my friend," I assure him. "And I ain't tried to be theirs. Promise."

"I know. I'm proud'a you for that." His grip loosens, fingers sliding down my arms, dropping in his lap. "But do you understand me?"

"I think so."

"I'mma somethin' better'un, I think."

Frowning, I think. Shane weren't my fault. Dad said that since the beginning. I guess he only wants to make sure it never happens again, like how it ain't yer fault if a dog bites ya, but you can always learn to recognize a violent animal and turn your back on its teeth.

I shouldn't have let Shane corner me in the car while the rest of the group was distracted in that supermarket.

Shouldn't have played into his stupid game, neither, by punching him in the face when he asked me to.

Definitely shouldn't have agreed to be his friend.

Dad's always gonna look out for me, but, "I understand."

"Okay. Good girl. Smart girl," He nods, standing and taking my hand in his, leading me down the corridor. "I love you, chicken."

"Love you, Daddy. But I thought you said I was allowed to knife 'em?"

"You can knife 'em first, and then I'll kill 'em," He jokes. "Deal?"

"Deal."

He chuckles to himself. "Let's get'chu to bed, then."

"Easy, boy," Axel smiles, scratching Mouse's ear as he watches him gobble up the meat in his hand. "There ya go."

From my seat nearby, as I wait to leave with Dad and Glenn for a supply run, I don't bother callin' Mouse over yet. The dog ain't my toy or nothin', but I should still share him with the prisoners. I know they ain't seen one in years, so I let him have the moment.

When Carl walks past me, I ask him, "You sure ya don't wanna come with us?"

"Thanks, but I'm sure. I'm just tired today," He turns to send me a smile, before continuing toward Axel. "Hey. Got more food."

"Oh, thanks, dude," He says happily, accepting it.

"He really likes this stuff."

It's taken almost a full month not only for Mouse to warm up to the new members of our group, but for the others, too.

We ain't best friends or nothin', like Maggie said, but it turns out they're a better fit for our family than I first thought.

Axel really is just a sorry loser with a good heart, who I've learnt over the past couple days wasn't kiddin' when he said he loved dogs. He's almost never more than a few feet away from Mouse, bribing him with treats or scraps of his own dinner, sometimes accidently calling him, Goober, the name of his old dog. When I look at him, I see all the other sorry losers we used to live with in our trailer park, his twangy accent and his stories of punking the police when he was younger weirdly comforting to me. Dad don't seem so offended by him, neither.

Oscar's the type of person who talks a lot around the dinner table, just like Carl and Maggie are. He's always got a snarky, good-natured joke to throw in here and there, or a reassuring tidbit to share when somebody opens up about something in their past.

When it comes to his own past, though, he suddenly ain't so much of a chatterbox no more.

I can only assume his wife and baby are among all the people we've lost, too. I wouldn't wanna talk about 'em, neither.

Rick watches Oscar standing there with a guarded look on his face, my Dad drawing his attention away by nudging his elbow, holding two guns out to him. With another glance at Axel, who's giggling like a small child at Mouse's enthusiasm for the food, he takes them.

"Axel. Oscar," Rick calls out, coming to a stop in front of them. As they look up at him, he offers a gun to each of them.

Axel's eyes widen as he stands up. "You serious, Mister?"

Oh — That's another thing. Axel doesn't call people Ma'am or Mister to butter 'em up. It's just his Southern manners.

"Daryl and Glenn are leaving for a few hours," He explains as Axel hesitantly reaches out for the gun, treating it more like a live grenade. For all the petty crimes he's committed, I'on think he's ever actually held a gun. Oscar takes his slightly more confidently, knowing exactly where to put his fingers, though he don't seem to like it. "With them gone, I think it's time you stepped up, helped us protect this place."

"Sure thing," Oscar nods, checking the mag is empty before stuffing the gun in his pants line. "Happy to, chief."

"Now, you mentioned you got experience," He reminds him, before turning to look expectantly at Axel.

In the silence that follows, the man offers, "I shot a slingshot, once. Busted in some rich old lady's Rolls-Royce window with it."

Rick's expression remains stoney. "A slingshot?"

"Yeah! Real cool one."

"A slingshot."

Awkwardly, he says again, "Yeah."

"Right." Rick gives him a friendly pat on the back, almost knocking him off balance. "We're gonna have to train you up a bit."

"Well, have fun," Glenn muses as he slings his backpack on, with Dad gesturing for me to stand up. "See you guys later."

Carl smiles, "See you later."

"C'mon, boy!" I call out to Mouse, clapping my hands. "Time to go."

"Remember, she doesn't handle the whole-wheat blend very well," Lori warns us, rocking baby Judith in her arms. It's good to finally see her outta bed again, to have her sitting around the breakfast table next to Herschel just like she always used to do.

"We'll look around for somethin' different this time. Trust me. I remember," Dad reassures her as he leads us up the concrete steps and pushes past the exit door, letting it close behind us before he mutters to me and Glenn, "She only threw up on my face twice."

"Eugh," I giggle, walking alongside them down the corridor. "That's gross."

"You ain't gonna talk to me about gross, missy," He jokes. "Who's that kid that spat chewed-up salami into my lap again, Rhee?"

Glenn chuckles at that. "Oh, yeah. I think her name was—...?"

"Somethin' beginin' with an, H, right?"

"Shut up," I giggle even harder as Glenn opens the main door, turning to lock it behind us. "It was an accident!"

"Ha—? Harriet," Dad pretends to struggle guessing, completely ignoring me. "Holly? Harley—?"

"Ohhh. Harley," Glenn exclaims as he stuffs the key back in his pocket. "That was it."

"Yeah, that's ringin' a bell."

"Shut up," I complain again, dragging him over to the gate. "C'mon. Me and Mouse wanna go!"

Agreeing, the dog lets out a, ruff.

This might only be the fourth time I've been on a scavenge this month, but I'd be lyin' if I said it ain't just as excitin' as the first time. Sure, the adults watch over me and Carl the whole time, and we only ever go to the same store, but everybody says we been doin' a good job and it's true. The worst thing that's happened to us is getting spooked by a rat running across our path, and even that was fun. 

"Okay, we're comin'," Dad chuckles raspily, letting me pull him along. "We're comin'."

"What do you wanna play this time, Harley?" Glenn asks.

As Dad opens the gate to the field, Mouse is the first one out, running ahead of us down the path.

I kick a pebble down the hill, thinking. "What about eye-spy?"

He locks it shut. "Didn't we do that one last time?"

"Yeah, but I lost," I argue as we follow after the dog.

"So, a re-match," Glenn says in understanding. "Sure. Who's going first?"

"Me!"

"Is it that leaf over there?"

"Nope."

"What about that leaf over there?"

"Still nope."

"That leaf?"

"You can't just guess every single leaf you see, Harley," Glenn chuckles. "The game would never end."

"So, it's not a leaf?"

"Not a leaf," He agrees. "Come on. You can do it."

Walking down the side of the highway, I look around for anything, Small and green. If it ain't leaves, or any of the hundreds of other things I've guessed so far, I'm screwed. In the distance, the tall sign for the strip mall pokes out from the trees, growing closer.

"Can't just look at what's in front of ya," Dad says helpfully, squeezing my hand. "Hunter's eye's gotta see everythin'."

Humming in concentration, I look down instead, noticing it instantly — The green beetle clinging to my shorts.

A giggle escapes me as I rest a finger near the insect's tiny head, letting it crawl onto me, holding it up to my face. "It was you!"

"Point for Harley," Glenn smiles as we step over the curb, entering the dumpster area behind the strip mall. The forest falls away behind us, making way for concrete and scattered litter. "You were taking so long; I was worried it was gonna fly away."

I turn a suspicious eye on my Dad. "Hang on. Did you let me win?"

"I might'a noticed it a couple minutes ago," He muses.

I flinch as the beetle's pearly wings whip out from under its shell, flickering into a blur, before it takes off into the trees.

"Aw." I pout, distracted by its disappearing shape as we approach the side of the building. "Bye, beetl—"

"Stop."

Stop?

Dad drops my hand. He slings his crossbow off his shoulder, training the sights ahead of us as Glenn grabs me, forcing me up against the wall with him. The warm brick presses against my back, Glenn's thick heartbeat thudding rhythmically beneath my fingers as I grip his wrist. I hold my breath. Suddenly, we're hiding — From what? From who? — and I couldn't care less that we didn't finish the game.

What's wrong, I desperately want to ask them, instead clinging tighter to Glenn, cowering, making myself small.

I try to get a glimpse of what's going on in the main parking lot, but I'm not close enough.

With his shoulders tensed and footsteps light, Dad creeps forward, peeking around the wall.

"It's okay," Glenn whispers to me, turning to scold a growling Mouse, "Shh, boy. Shh."

I focus on the nearby sounds — Someone's car engine idling, boots scraping against tarmac, hushed voices. People. It's people.

As Dad pulls back behind the wall, Glenn asks him, "How many?"

"I count three," He exhales, glancing down at me for a moment, before shaking his head. "We gotta go."

"Okay. Come on." Glenn gently tugs me by the hand, pulling me along with him in the direction we came. "It's okay."

"C'mon, chicken," Dad encourages.

We stick close to the wall, Dad scanning the back parking lot with a slow sweep of his sights, before giving us a nod, letting us know the way is clear and leading us down onto the tarmac. Everything opens up. My gaze darts from the dumpsters pressed up against the chain-link fence, to the trash littered across the ground, to the distant trees, the sky, the back of my Dad's head, Mouse at his heel. 

Dad takes one step back over the broken curb, his boot hitting the grass on the other side.

My fingers tighten around Glenn's as I lift my foot to do the same.

I'm taking a sigh of relief — The forest is right there. We can slip away — but the breath in my lungs is stolen from me. I stumble backwards into Glenn. A man shoots out from behind a rusted car, tackling my Dad, and a gasp escapes me, loud and sharp.

"Daddy!" I shriek, watching him tank the sudden impact with a grunt.

"Boys!" The man shouts over his shoulder. "Over here!"

Squeezing my hand, Glenn draws his gun, acting unsure if he should run with me or stay and fight. "Daryl?"

"Stay with Harley!" He orders.

We watch as Dad shoves the man off him in one powerful movement, sending his stocky body tumbling.

The man lands against the car door. The window cracks under his elbow, glass shattering, tinkling, falling at his feet. He groans like an animal, blood trickling down his forearm as he rears it back again, knife in his hand, about to stab Dad wherever he can.

Dad's crossbow comes down on the man's arm and the knife goes flying, clattering loudly across the parking lot.

"Fuck—" He cries, disarmed, before Dad takes a step back and — FWIP — unleashes a bolt into his face.

The man's legs give out, body slumping to the ground.

"What's going on back here?!" A voice shouts, footsteps approaching. "Eric?"

Glenn whips his gun around, shoving me behind him so fast; I only catch a glimpse of the — two? — men pouring into the parking lot before I'm pressing my face into the back of his shirt, squeezing his hand so tight I think I might break a few of his bones.

"Holy shit," One of the men exclaims as their footsteps come to a stop in front of us. "Eric! God, he's dead!"

"You'll be dead, too, if ya don't back the Hell up!" Dad barks at them, taking a step forward. "Back up!"

"You fucking killed him!"

"He attacked us first!" Glenn counters. "Put the guns down!"

"Oh, my God!"

"Who's that behind you?"

"Hey! You keep yer eyes on us and put'cher fuckin' guns down!"

The arguing, shouting, — Mouse's relentless barking — gets louder and louder with each second, ruminating into one big cloud of noise around me as I squeeze my eyes shut. I only wanted to help them scavenge some baby formula, enjoy the sun and the breeze, maybe win at eye-spy. Home is only a ten-minute walk from here. No, no, it wasn't supposed to go like this. It's never gone like this.

"Put that goddamn crossbow down!"

"I ain't doin' shit!"

"Everybody, shut up!"

The parking lot falls silent. I hear the footsteps of a third man approaching, slow and calm, like an angry teacher.

"They killed Eric," One of them exclaims. "We heard him shout for us."

"And this piece of shit here killed him. I saw it."

The footsteps slow to a stop, and no response comes. I wait for a gunshot or a punch to be thrown, but that doesn't come, neither.

After the pause has gone on too long, the man hesitates to ask, "Boss, what's wrong? Are we killing 'em, or not?"

"I said, shut up, Gavin."

Oh.

That voice.

Mer—?

No.

Merle is dead.

Merle was chained to roof and eaten by walkers and he's dead and he's gone and I mourned him and ghosts ain't real.

My movements in slow motion, I loosen my grip on Glenn's hand, my body going numb as I dare to peek out around his hip. As the scene reveals itself to me, a curtain pulled over a window inch by inch, everything hits me like a ton of bricks, years, names, memories.

The man standing at the front of the small crowd stares, gawking, at my Dad, unbothered by his confused friends.

When he glances down at me, his arm pointing the gun at us falters.

Our eyes lock, and suddenly ghosts are real.

I can feel myself start to cry, I think.

Merle.

Author's Note.

It's Merle! Is there anything more to say? He's back!

I'm going to have my work cut out for me in the coming chapters. Trauma, emotions. Here we come.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, everyone. 💙

[queenvidal]

Welcome To The Sanctuary

Negan x Reader (Rick’s Daughter)

Chapter 1: Something Eerie

Chapter Summary: It was supposed to be just another pickup day - not a nightmare. Rick is ready to strike against Negan, but all war efforts come to a complete stop, when the life of the woman both men care about the most is on the line.

Wordcount: 2157

Era: Season 7

- Part 5 of the The One And Only Series -

Chapter Index: Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 - COMING SOON!

Masterlist / Negan x Rick's Daughter Series

It’s late in the morning, when a small convoy of trucks makes its way down the deserted roads. 

The Saviors are heading to their bosses favorite community. Negan is almost mindlessly driving behind one of the trucks, watching the all too familiar suburb passing by his windows. Today is pickup day for Alexandria and he can’t wait to see what Prick’s people got him this time. It better be good after all the trouble his son caused last week. 

It probably won't be much, he muses. Not that he cares too much about it but the town is now short of three more people. It certainly has to put their scavengers under even more pressure. But then again, Rick and especially his Sweet-Thing had to deal with even worse conditions in the past, when coordinating their teams and if anyone can get shit done, it’s her.

After the events of last week's pickup, Negan had to think of her constantly. She must have known about Spencer's plans or at least had to have a suspicion, given how stressed she was, when he first approached them. What a slimy asshole and a coward on top. There is no doubt in his mind his Sunshine would have killed him for what he tried to do. Luckily she didn’t have to lift a finger, she is already close enough to getting exiled as it is and also Negan was more than willing to lend a hand in that matter. 

As much as he can't stand Rick, he's got to admit that he's doing a good job - that is keeping his people alive and scavenging good stuff. Also he is well experienced from his years outside of that town and kept so many people alive during that time. That knowledge is priceless in times like this and Negan actually respects him for it. That Spencer really thought he'd not just be as good but even better than Rick as a leader is not only astonishing but also downright pathetic. That asshole got what he deserved. 

Still, there is one thing from this whole ordeal that’s still leaving a bitter taste in Negan's mouth and that is the death of the fat woman. He disliked her and was never subtle about it but he knew she was somewhat close to his Sunshine and although it was Arat’s decision to take her out, he still feels sorry for Y/N. 

He can’t forget that burning anger in her eyes, when she glared at that bitch that tried to shoot him. He'd be lying if he said he wasn’t at least a little bit turned on by the sight of it, as out of place as it was. After all his Sweet-Thing is hot as hell when she’s pissed and she’s been seething. 

Negan can’t help but smile at that memory. He’s so excited to see her again. It surprised him how much he actually enjoyed their little game of hide and seek. It made the whole affair even more enticing. Still he’s glad people somehow found out eventually. Hopefully this will result in more time with her than rushed quickies every now and then. Given the new circumstances, Negan decided to retire his RV for the time being and left it in The Sanctuary. There is no need for it anymore and her bedroom will do just fine. He really can’t wait to take his time with her.

Finally the high walls of Alexandria are slowly coming into view and the head of the Saviors  focuses back onto the road ahead of him. Slowly the gate opens up, making way for the convoy. Negan scans the guards standing on the wall but his Sunshine is nowhere to be seen. She’s not on duty right now it seems. 

The trucks drive through the gate onto the parking lot and Negan stops his car right on top of the convoy. The Saviors gather around their vehicles, ready to go through today's pickup. Negan jumps out of his car, shutting the door shut. 

Uncomfortableness is creeping up his spine immediately - Something is wrong. 

Somehow he has the feeling that something is off but Negan just can’t put his finger on it and it's making him feel quite uneasy. Suddenly on high alert, he's looking around the area. Usually around this time Alexandrians would roam the street, watching the activities but the streets are empty. 

Except for one person. 

“Ah, Rick!” Negan calls the approaching man with a bright smile that quickly dies again. The closer Rick gets, the more his sorry state becomes visible. The man looks like he’s seen a ghost. His skin is pale, only accentuating the redness of his sunken eyes. The hell happened to him?

Once he’s reached the Saviors, Rick greets them with a weak nod of his head. “Negan. Your stuff’s at the pantry.” 

A frown settles on Negan's face. Rick’s not meeting his eyes and while that’s nothing out of the ordinary, in fact it’s quite welcome, it still seems off. The other man’s not avoiding his gaze like he used to but is just staring into the void. What the hell is going on here? After another quick glance around the area, still not seeing his Sweet-Thing, Negan asks, “Where’s Y/N?”

Rick swallows hard. After a moment, he states. “She’s out scouting.”

This statement only adds to the distressing feeling in Negan’s gut. Rick is so obviously lying. She would never go out scouting with a different car than her stupid Mini. The Mini that is clearly sitting in the far corner of the parking lot. 

Negan takes one step closer to Rick, his eyes narrowing. But before he can confront Rick about his observations, he sees a woman appearing in the corner of his eye. She’s stepping out of the infirmary. That’s one of Sunshine’s team, he realizes. The woman is crying and wiping her tears. Blood is dripping from her hands.

Negan’s eyes switch between her and Rick. Something is going on. After one final glance at the other man who’s still not meeting his eyes, Negan gets moving. He pushes himself past Rick without a word, heading for the infirmary. Rick’s about to say something but when he sees Sasha standing on the porch, he keeps his mouth shut, following Negan with his head down.

Knots tighten in Negan's chest. The air feels tense, almost eerie. There is not a single person in sight and the whole town is silent. Only the sound of boots moving over the gravel can be heard. It’s quite goosebumps inducing. The head of the Saviors tries to calm himself down, he can’t have his nerves get the better of him. 

When they reach the porch, Sasha moves out of their way to the side. She looks at Rick, even more tears are running down her cheeks when she slowly shakes her head at him. Negan can’t see Rick's reaction but at the moment he doesn’t care. All he wants is to find out what’s going on. With the unpleasant feeling in his gut quickly growing, he opens the door and moves inside.

Once through the door, the man is being hit with the pungent smell of blood. His nose crinkles to its own accord and he is met with another puffy red eye. Rick's boy is sitting on a chair next to a cot, looking up at him with a tear stained face, holding the hand of the person lying there. 

When Negan's eyes eventually wander to the cot, he stops dead in his tracks. Sunshine. Negan almost forgot how to breathe. There is so much blood. 

"It's been an accident." Rick's small voice sounds behind the boss, but he barely registers the other man. Negan moves forward, coming to stand right next to Carl. The boy doesn’t say a word, only holding the hand of his sister in silence.

Negan’s eyes roam over her. His Sunshine is almost unrecognizable, the way she's lying there, completely still, unconscious. Her skin is so pale, almost gray. Bandages are wrapped around her exposed middle but there is still so much blood on her, the cot, the equipment. A rusty metal rod on the cart catches Negan's attention briefly but he quickly moves his eyes back to the big crimson red spot on her belly.

"It happened so fast." Rick tries to explain, "We couldn't-"

"Got a doc or something?" Negan cuts him off immediately, his eyes not leaving her.

Rick’s just looking at his daughter. "She's… she’s our medic.”

Negan’s clenching his jaw. A quiet fuck is leaving his lips as he’s running his ungloved hand through his hair, still taking all of this in. 

She’s dying. 

Once that thought passes his mind, Negan snaps back from his spinning mind. He moves his attention back to her father, “Prepare her for transport. I’m taking her with us.”

“No-” Rick is about to argue, but there is no room nor time for a debate right now.

“I see you still don't understand what your daughter means to me, Rick.” Negan states in a serious tone, towering over the other man. “I’ve got a doc and a clinic. She’s coming with me.” 

“I'm coming with you.” Surprised, both men look at the boy. “So she won't be alone.” 

After a short moment of consideration, Negan agrees and nods at him. “Fine. Pack her some things.” Carl carefully places his sister's hand on the cot again, before quickly rushing out of the room. Negan turns his head back towards Rick again. “You get her ready,” he orders, before brushing past him, getting his car.

Rick watches him leave before moving his attention back to his daughter again. Slowly he comes closer, taking her hand in his. His eyes well up again as he looks at her. He raises her hand to his lips, praying to any God who cares to listen, to make her stay, to not take her away. “I love you so much,” he whispers against her skin. It pains him so much to see her like that.

After a new wave of tears are threatening to stream down his face, Rick realizes he has to get going. With as much care as he can muster, he puts a blanket around his daughter, wrapping her up into a cocoon before slowly lifting her up into his arms. Cautiously he hugs her against his chest. “Please don't leave us, Y/N.”

Eventually Rick starts moving, bringing his daughter outside. Sasha is sitting on the railing, still fighting the tears, trying to take a breath and calm down. She offers to help him but Rick doesn't seem to notice her as he’s passing her by without a word. Negan parked his car right in front of the house, Carl is already waiting next to it with a duffel bag in his hand. 

Rick walks down the steps attentively, going towards the car. Negan, who just finished instructing Simon to carry on with the pickup, comes closer, ready to take over but Rick moves past him. Carl quickly opens the door before helping his father to slowly and carefully lay his sister down onto the back seat of the car. Rick tugs her in one more time, whispering to her to keep fighting, to please wake up again, before he has to reluctantly let go of her.

As much as he hates Negan and as much as he distrusts him with every fiber of his being, if that man can save her, he will swallow all his hatred up. He’d do everything in and beyond his power for her. All he wants is for his daughter to open her eyes again.

Negan comes to stand next to Rick, looking at him with something close to compassion in his features, “Whatever happens, either way, I’ll let you know.” He's reaching out his hand, offering the other man a two-way radio.

Rick only nods silently, taking it. After one final look at his daughter, he's moving away. Negan lets out a sharp whistle, gaining Carl's attention. “Jump in.” The boy does as he’s been told, hopping into the passenger seat while Negan hurries onto his. 

The engine roars to life as they quickly take off and hit the road. Rick watches them drive out of the gate. His heart is shattering into a million pieces. This feels way too much like a last goodbye.

Sasha’s slowly approaching him. She puts her hand on his shoulder in a comforting gesture, but there is nothing that can console him. 

Negan is racing down the streets as fast as he can. Adrenaline is rushing through his veins. Please, let it not be too late. It’s dead silent in the car. Now more than ever is he afraid of noises. 

Dreading to hear the tell-tale sound of quiet groaning. 

Chapter Index: Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 - COMING SOON!

Masterlist / Negan x Rick's Daughter Series

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