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txladyj-blog · 5 years ago

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This Time Around - Chapter 16

A Daryl Dixon x OFC collaboration written by @xmistressmistrustx by request of @txladyj-blog

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Daryl Dixon/Original Female Character

Tags: Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Awkwardness, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Crush, Fluff and Humor, Angst and Humor, Mild Smut, Strong Language, Eventual Sex, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence, Some Canon Scenes and Dialogue

Chapters 24/?

Supply runs were a weekly, almost daily task. Feeding, clothing and providing medicine for so many people meant that getting creative with locations was now a must and Jess knew better than anyone else that sometimes it was possible to find what you needed in the least obvious places.

A bright and sunny morning saw Jess leading a sweep of a wealthy area which boasted an exclusive club surrounded by lakes to collect anything useful from the huge, lushly decorated houses. Michonne and Rick were chosen to accompany her and before leaving the gate, the small group did a routine check; weapons, ammo, knives, route and rendezvous locations should they get split up. It was all at Jess’s request due to her never going anywhere without a plan and a weapon if she could help it. Daryl was the first to cross her mind when choosing her team, but she’d skipped him on the assumption that he’d be heading out recruiting and she wanted to avoid coming across as if she wanted to live in his pocket at all costs.

Standing at the gate with the map open on the trucks hood, the three participants in the days run pulled on gloves and discussed the roads to be taken. Jess glanced up at the street to her side to find Daryl pushing his bike towards them. He stopped in front of the truck, leaned the bike on its kickstand and headed over to the group. Jess lowered her head and tried to make out she was planning alternative routes, should they come across trouble. Her dedication to her task became transparent when she glanced up and caught his eye. She wished she’d taken a couple of acting classes in her lifetime.

Morning, handsome.

“Come to join the party?” Michonne called out.

“Where you guys headed?” Questioned Daryl with a squint. He brought a hand up to his forehead to shield his eyes from the sun's glare.

“Tococoa” Rick chimed in. “Jess’s idea” Daryl wrinkled his forehead and scanned each of the three faces in front of him with a bemused expression

“The rich folks place in the mountains?” He questioned.

“That’s the one” Michonne confirmed “Lively street festivals and charming boutiques. I’m guessing that’s why you know of it.” She grinned sarcastically.

Jess felt a sting of irritation. Rick was right, it had been her choice to check the mountain town of Toccoa with its expansive and high-value houses and exclusive golf club. She figured there could still be supplies there, or people if they looked hard enough. With its fishing lakes and clubhouse, they could well return with a decent haul if they were lucky.

“Cherokee Club.” Jess snipped. “You’ve heard of it?”

“Yeah. I heard of it. Those people there got more damn money than sense” Daryl grumbled.

“You should join us” Michonne suggested as she traced the area on the map “the area looks pretty big; we could use the extra person.”

Before Jess could even think about such an idea, Daryl had agreed and was looking over the map, shoving his way between her and Michonne. She blinked sideways at him over her mask and all at once was aware of the side of his body against hers as he pointed at roads and areas of woodland and discussed them with Michonne. The odor of cigarettes and leather drifted to her nose and his arm brushed hers as it moved. Warm and firm. A rippled terrain. She backed away and Rick followed, making the whole scene look a lot more casual than it was. A stroke of luck.

“Take the bike” Rick called out to Daryl as he climbed into the driver’s seat of the truck “follow us. Michonne’s right, we need the numbers. I mean, if that’s OK with you, Jess? This is your run.”

Jess merely glanced between each of their faces, all waiting expectantly for an answer. She shrugged both shoulders. “Whatever” She sighed.

Jess saw Daryl nod in agreement “Alright. Lead the way” he instructed as he moved from the hood of the truck, Jess thought he’d head straight to his bike and stepped back to allow him to pass while re-strapping her gloves and checking her mask. When he halted inches from her body, she froze.

“Ya gonna wear that thing all day?” He challenged with a flicker of a hand towards her mask.

“Probably.” She replied uneasily

“Why? We all know who you are.” He pointed out.

“You do, but any still living we might find won’t know who I am…and that’s a good thing.” She shot back with a wink.

His dislike of her mask was becoming more and more obvious as time went on but it’s ability to irritate him amused her somewhat. Maybe it was a symbol of her dishonesty towards him. Or, maybe it was simply because he preferred her face to the black plastic and fabric that shielded it. She didn’t dare expect it to be the latter but no one could see inside her mind, where she indulged in the odd daydream where Daryl actually thought her to be attractive. An abrupt huff and a brief shake of his head was his only response before he left her and make tracks to his bike.

The journey up into the foothills and mountains was a picturesque one and anyone that had missed the end of the world would be forgiven for thinking that nothing had changed. That beyond the canopy of trees was the usual population of animals, campers, fisherman, hunters, hikers and families vacationing. It couldn’t have looked further from a mass grave for the walking dead and Jess found herself having to look away or dangerous nostalgia would have taken precedence. In the passenger seat of the truck, Michonne gave Rick directions and the two of them discussed a plan between them. Jess was guilty of not completely paying attention as Daryl sped up on his bike from behind the truck and drove alongside her window. The bikes engine gave off a rumble loud enough to wake hell, let alone the dead that roamed the landscape but Daryl paid it no mind, if anyone was going to tear around the apocalypse on one of loudest vehicles available, Jess figured that it would be Daryl and a small part of her wished that she could be so adventurous and carefree.

Daryl’s hair flickered in the wind and he took a small glimpse to his side to see Jess push her hood back, drop her mask, tug the tie from her hair and slide open the sunroof. She climbed onto the seat, emerging at the top of the truck, closed her eyes and shook her hair out, letting it billow behind her as the truck moved along, the air gliding through the strands. Slowly, one of her arms rose up, covered with leather bracers and gloves. Then, the other and she casually leaned on the front edge of the sunroof, throwing one boot over the other on the seat below and achieving a comfortable stance.

Daryl switched between watching where he was going and gazing up at the windswept figure that was Jess, cruising along beside him like an apocalyptic goddess risen from the ashes. She caught him watching her and held up a hand, her index finger extended with the others slightly bent, not wanting to seem too excited to be catching his attention. He offered her a short nod before hitting the throttle and veering the bike over to the next lane, gaining distance between them.

Tucked away in the mountains and removed from the chaos of city life, Cherokee Club was a mountain-lake retreat nestled in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains that offered both a place to lose oneself and find oneself. It was a place to take the family away and to bring them together. With a year-round golf course, pristine lakefront setting, unparalleled amenities, real estate and activities for all, it made for the perfect supply run destination.

Rolling up to the still chained-together gates, Rick killed the engine and opened the drivers side door, using the footstep on the vehicle to hoist himself up so he could see over the roof where Jess was still standing in the sunroof. The gates were peppered with signs. Some neatly painted, some scrawled in harsh red paint, or so Jess preferred to think. The area its self was deathly quiet, no Walkers in sight and that gave Daryl suspicions when he dismounted his bike and crunched over the gravel to Michonne, who was hanging out of the trucks window and taking mental notes of her surroundings.

Jess read the sign at the top of the gate, sloppily written on a piece of white wood in black. Hurried and striking a simmering unease into her gut.

‘The end is extremely fucking nigh.’

“Jess?” Rick prompted, reminding her that this was her idea and therefore her decision how they should proceed. But she had already witnessed the natural leader in Rick throwing ideas back and forth with Michonne. Jess wasn’t deaf, nor was she stupid.

“What did you and Michonne come up with?” She asked directly. Her face was blank and unreadable.

Rick swapped an uneasy expression with the samurai wielding woman who by then had mirrored Rick and was standing on the passenger side step with her hands flat on the trucks roof. Since Jess’s return, Rick didn’t quite know how to approach her, finding her to be reasonably friendly one day and dismissive the next. He was never sure which Jess he was going to get and on that particular day, he was apparently getting both.

“Uh…we thought we’d get the truck through the gate. Michonne and I will take the clubhouse, restaurant and any other buildings around them while you and Daryl sweep the houses.”

“Fine by me.” She chirped, much to Rick’s surprise who was sure he would be met with an angry stare and protest. “I’ll get the bolt cutters.”

Huh. I’m with Daryl. Thanks, Rick. She thought. Don’t seem clingy. Admire from a distance.

After refusing to let Jess do any manual labor and fraying her temper slightly with his chivalry, Daryl accompanied Jess on the long and arduous task of sweeping the masses of enormous and luxurious houses in the compound. Conversation was kept to the task in hand and Jess managed to keep a lid on her emotions. That was, until he caught her stood in the middle of a teenage girl’s bedroom, sniffling while holding a Star Wars T-shirt in the air. She started to stuff it into her bag and stopped when she noticed Daryl in the doorway, leaning on the door frame and with a small smile which held such affection that she could have fainted there and then. Keeping eye contact with him as he reached an arm up to clutch his crossbow strap to his shoulder, she gradually pulled the shirt back out of her bag and dropped it on the bed.

“Take it.” He told her.

“What, that? I uh, I don’t need it.” She quickly dismissed.

The lie almost stung her tongue. She did need it. It wasn’t just any Star Wars T-shirt. It boasted an image of a tiny, young Princess Leia, with her small arms around the waist of Darth Vader, who towered above her and rested a hand on her shoulder. The exact same image that she had presented to her father on a card for the last Father’s Day she could remember.

Somehow, Daryl could sense her need to take the shirt and she could only guess that it was displayed in her eyes like a neon sign.

“Take it.” He repeated.

“It won’t fit anyway.” She argued. Having put her mask back on when she entered the Clubs grounds, Daryl was only able to see her eyes and while he stood there in the dim, dusty room of a house that was worth more money than he would have ever made in his lifetime, he wanted to tell her that he just wanted her to stop hiding who she was.

“Take the mask off.” He rasped.

“Why?” She questioned.

“Please”

She slowly slid the plastic and fabric down past her chin and peered back at him as he stepped into the room and picked up the shirt from the bed. He took the bag from her hand, stuffed the shirt inside and handed it back. She sighed and briefly closed her eyes. When she opened them, she could only study the carpet beneath her feet while she took the bag from his grasp.

“It’s stupid” she whispered, sensing him move closer to her.

“Bet it ain’t” he uttered in response. “Tell me”

“Last Father’s Day… I made my dad a card with the same picture on it.” She explained. “Saw that shirt and it brought it all back.”

To her surprise, he lifted a hand and placed it on her forearm, giving it a slight squeeze. She couldn’t help but look down at the alien feeling of his hand on her skin and then up at his face, which in such a situation appeared softer and more handsome than she could have imagined.

“See? Ain’t nothin’ stupid ‘bout that.” He assured her before stepping away and leaving the room.

After pulling herself together and packing a third bag full of supplies to take back to Alexandria, Jess realized she’d not seen Daryl in a while. She began to search the many rooms of the third house they’d hit, eventually finding him sitting on the balcony of the master bedroom, smoking a cigarette. The rounded, decked platform reminded her of a beach house with its white fencing on a backdrop of matching white panels and window shutters. The view was quite something, the motionless lake reached as far as the eye could see on either side and on the opposite bank was a once expertly kept and impressive golf course.

She slid the glass door open and stepped outside, not bothering to pull up her mask. He looked up at her and removed his boots from the cushioned wooden chair he’d been using as a footstool and shoved it noisily across the decking with his boot towards her. She hesitated for a moment, unsure of exactly why she’d opted to join him when she didn’t really have much to say. But being beside him for a few, taskless minutes was enough to provide a little relief from the gnawing urge to stare at him all the livelong day. She sank down into the seat and admired the view.

The water was so still it resembled a sheet of glass, perfectly polished and untouched. If it wasn’t for the smears of blood on the front lawn, the dismembered arm on the kitchen counter and the walker trapped in the sun room, it would have been an idyllic paradise. But such was life now and Jess had learned from her time alone that she should just make the best of things.

“How did you hear about this place?” She probed, managing to find a topic of conversation.

Daryl flicked the end of his smoke over the balcony and cleared his throat, shooting her a quick glance and shifting in his seat. He thudded both boots up on the table in front of him, reclining in his seat.

Someone’s getting comfortable.

“Broke in with Merle once. ‘Fore everything went bad.” He said.

Jess’s eyes widened, she was under no illusions that Daryl was no angel before the turn, but she didn’t expect to be graced with such a telling statement.

“No way!” She gasped “Really?”

“Yeah.” He huffed before falling silent.

She raised an eyebrow at him, craning her neck to encourage him to look at her. When he did, it occurred to him that she was waiting for more information. Usually, it was unheard of for Daryl to disclose such an anecdote to anyone, but this wasn’t just anyone, it was Jess.

“See that boat, right there? With the ‘49’ on the side?” He questioned as he nudged his head up towards the lake. Jess scanned the water and spotted the boat in question. A white, wooden boat with its oars slotted nearly into brackets along the inside walls. “Mmhmm” she hummed.

“All this, it’s private property. So, we waited til dark, scaled the wall. Stole that boat ‘n went fishin’.”

Jess began to giggle and moved her chair closer to his. She also lifted her legs and rested her feet on the table, nudging his aside slightly with the toe of her boot.

“In the dark?” She chuckled.

“Yep. Merle said he could catch anythin’ come rain or shine, day or night. Really, he just wanted to get lit. So, he’s drinkin’ n’ fishin’. Time goes on. He gets pretty drunk n’ he falls in the damn lake. I mean real loud like KAPOOWSH.”

Jess’s face lit up at Daryl’s animated body language and the enthusiasm with which he conveyed the sound of the splash in the lake, his hands and fingers mimicking the shape of the water. She had never seen him so comfortable and relaxed. It was the first time he’d regaled her with a story from his past and she hoped it would be the first of many.

“So, I jump in and I’m like…” he grabbed her wrist and lifted her arm over his head, allowing it to drape across his broad shoulders and she struggled to contain her excitement at the contact and opportunity to lay a hand on his strong frame. “… like this, right? I’m swimmin’….” He continued as he rotated his arm in a swimming motion while Jess grinned from ear to ear “…N’ I save his life. We get to shore n’ y’know what that asshole says to me?”

“What?” She beamed, feeling a pang of disappointment when the physical contact was lost.

“He says ‘Yo, Dummy! Go back n’ get the fuckin’ beer!’”

Jess let herself laugh, holding nothing back. Her tuneful giggle echoed in Daryl’s head as her bright smile and genuine amusement at his cautionary tale stunned him into a near silence.

“That sounds like Merle” she giggled as she playfully nibbled on the edge of her fingernail.

“Yeah.” He agreed. His eyes swept over the view before them. The peaceful lake with its decaying boats, the swaying of the uncut grass and eventually the lingering of a group of walkers heading in their direction. “Heads up” Daryl grunted; his voice laced with irritation at the moment being interrupted. He picked up his crossbow and shot to his feet.

Jess also got up, equipped her bow and took aim, counting the numbers in her head and noticing the attire of the rotting dead wandering in their direction. Still a considerable distance away, neither of them were panicking just yet.

“Those are some filthy rich Walkers” she commented. “That guy on the far left, that ugly as hell jacket…” She squinted “…Yep, pretty sure that’s gonna be worth more than my old car.”

“Half ‘em. You take the four on the right, I’ll get the four on the left.” He suggested.

“You challenging me?” She prodded. He caught her wink at him and felt his cheeks simmer with warmth under the surface while he quickly turned his attention back to the Walkers below. It was a small motion but one from a pretty girl that for some reason that escaped him, brought out a shy side of him that he so loathed.

“More of a plan than a competition.” He mumbled.

“Chickenshit” She declared. Deliberately goading him into playing her game.

He didn’t know if Jess was competitive before he met her, but he had already seen for himself that she enjoyed the odd test of wills. She grinned at him and for a split second all that went through his mind was one, single thought.

She’s so damn cute.

“Get used to bein’ a loser” He shrugged as he took aim with his crossbow.

Bottles, plastic boxes and pills gave off a chorus of noises as they were tossed into the back of the truck by Daryl and Jess, adding to their carefully gathered mass of precious supplies. Jess was adamant that she’d won the Walker shooting competition but Daryl told her otherwise, expressing that she’d cheated by diverting his attention. Quite what she’d done remained to be seen due to his reluctance to admit exactly what it was that had caused him to miss his last shot. Daryl knew well enough what it was but wasn’t about to convey that he’d fallen into a temporary trance when he saw the look of pure joy on her face as she dropped each Walker and gave a running commentary as if the whole thing were some televised Walker shooting championships. The sight filled him with a feeling he’d not felt in a long time. Initially, he thought it to be contentment at having her back with him, but the more she laughed and cheered, the more her eyes glinted and her body adjusted to each shot, the more he wanted to vocalize the one simple thought he’d had before.

You’re so damn cute.

It had lost him the game. He was ready to accept as much but allowing Jess the glory was not in his plans.

Upon meeting Rick and Michonne and after spending hours clearing the dead from doorways and flooring the still mobile roamers, their departure saw the entire club’s property rendered almost completely safe. That was, until the time when another group came along and claimed it. Jess pondered for a fleeting moment that it may have made a better homestead than the fairground, but it was too far from Alexandria and as a result, too far from Daryl.

The trucks doors slammed and Daryl swung a leg over his bike, taking a final look around at the deserted yet still quite impressive Cherokee Club and tugging on a pair of black, leather gloves.

“It’s nice here, huh?” Jess mentioned as she went to grab the handle of the door to the backseat.

“If ya like too much space and overpriced shit” He mused.

“Wow. OK. Mr. Happy.” She giggled “Buck up, buttercup.”

He flicked a hand at her, a signal that he was literally brushing her mocking comments away. Jess let her hand drop from the handle and she stepped closer to him, his eyes moving up to meet hers and lingering there, questioning her motive.

“Could I…” She started before pausing and screwing her face up “…never mind.”

“Naw, what?” He pressed, curiosity about what she could possibly want to ask pushing him to seek an answer.

“Could I ride back with you? On your bike.” She asked sheepishly.

Daryl checked on Michonne and Rick who by now were both waiting with the truck’s engine running. Michonne was glowering at them in the reflection of the side mirror. Jess was stalling and holding everyone up but Daryl couldn’t have cared less.

Is she serious?!

Having a passenger wasn’t a common occurrence for Daryl unless it was his brother, needing to be ferried around after too many drugs or booze or both. Carol had hitched a couple rides with him in the past and the experience of having to be extra careful due to having another person’s life in his hands was one he’d rather do without. But as soon as the question had left Jess’s lips, Daryl was certain that there was no way he was about to decline. A motorcycle enthusiast from a young age, biking had become a part of his life and the fabric of his being and after Jess had gifted him a custom made, unique and powerful set of wheels and also given him the chance to make a difference while using it, he felt he owed it to her to say yes.

“Yeah. Sure.” He replied, trying not to sound too shocked at the sense of adventure she’d developed in her time away from him. “Hop on. Ya ever been on a motorcycle before?”

Jess approached the bike and climbed onto the pillion seat, shuffling about and getting comfortable.

“Does a racing game in an arcade count?” She giggled.

“Nah” He smirked.

“Then no. Never.”

Daryl nudged his head up to Michonne who got the signal immediately and told Rick to head out of the compound. The two of them knowing that Jess and Daryl would be more than fine on their own.

“Alright, lean when I lean and keep facin’ forwards. No waving ya hands in the air like some drunk college bitch. Hold on tight.” He ordered.

She hovered her hands over his leather vest, on either side of his body and bit her lip. Nerves rose to the surface and it occurred to her that she hadn’t thought this through. Being in such close proximity to him for an hour’s drive was quite the feat. That was on top of having never ridden a motorcycle before and having no clue what to expect. But she was determined. If he could raise hell with a motorcycle on the roads of a corpse infested Georgia, then so could she.

“To your waist?” It was a stupid question; she knew it as soon as she’d said it and wished she could just retract her words and erase them from his memory.

“Nah, to my thumbs.” He commented sarcastically while peering over his shoulder at her. She detected a small’ smug smile and felt her face burn red. She dipped her head, hoping that he couldn’t see the embarrassment parading across her features. Little did she know, he could see it. Plain as day and it wasn’t something he could ignore. “S’a’matter? Ya shy or somethin’?” He remarked.

The inferno under Jess’s skin continued to rage and she very nearly hopped off the bike and started charging down the road upon the declaration that she had changed her mind and would walk back alone. Instead, she grit her teeth, forced her coyness away and gripped the sides of his clothing.

“I’m not shy” she mumbled next to his angel-winged back. “I’m just holding back my awesomeness so I don’t intimidate you.”

In her arms, she felt a judder and realized he was laughing at her comment.

“Right. Um, thanks for that.” He smirked.

“Start the damn bike, Daryl.” She sighed, much to his delight. If there was one thing he found completely endearing about her, it was her need to cover up her awkwardness with banter and humor.

She lifted her feet as the bike moved and clung to his leather vest like her life depended on it. He merely smiled to himself as he steered them out of the area and onto the road, sensing her relax around him once they were on a straighter route. Eventually, she let go of his vest and chanced shifting closer to him and holding his waist. He focused on the road, trying not to tense up at her touch. Daryl hadn’t had anyone that close to him for a long time and it was now an unfamiliar feeling to him, but not an unpleasant one.

It took a long time to unload the results of the run and people buzzed around the truck, craning their necks to catch a glimpse of anything they might want to request at the pantry. The garage that acted as storage space for furniture, clothing, bed linens and towels was rapidly stocked to a decent level and two bags of designer clothing were tossed inside as if they were nothing, which in reality, they now were. Jess worked with Daryl and Michonne to empty the truck while Rick checked in with Deanna, providing her with the usual requested breakdown of the trip. She liked to be in the loop, making no secret of the fact that if she were to leave Alexandria and go on a run herself, she would be more of a hindrance than a help. Regardless of her lack of prowess and survival skills outside the walls, inside, she was a logical and fair leader that liked to be provided with all the information at hand.

Jess joked and chatted with Michonne as they handed boxes and bags to one another while Daryl moved his motorcycle back to the house and watched them from the roadside. He lit a smoke and lowered himself down onto the edge of the sidewalk, wondering once again how Jess managed to appear so relaxed and carefree when talking to anyone else but him. He tapped ash from his smoke and brought it back to his lips, inhaling deeply and observing Jess giggle and high-five Michonne, who then left her and headed in his direction.

“Quite the result” She commented as she approached “Good job.”

“You too.” He replied, motioning to her with his cigarette. She tucked her sword strap over her shoulder and paused in front of him.

“We even picked up some insulin. Wouldn’t have done that if Jess hadn’t suggested this run.” She admitted.

“Yeah. She’s a smartass.” He mumbled as he pinched below the burning bud of his smoke, extinguishing it and brushing the orange end against the sidewalk.

“A smartass that you seem to get along well with. I thought she was coming back in the truck with us.” She remarked.

Daryl turned his head to the side and up at Michonne, who was silhouetted by the sun. So much so, that he was unable to read her expression amongst the glare.

“Yeah. We’re friends” He told her. “She was there at the start. When I met Rick n’ Carol at the Quarry. She aint never been on a bike before, asked to ride back with me.”

Michonne moved away from the spears of light from the sun and nodded.

“One to tick off the bucket list.” She smiled.

Daryl’s eyes dragged down her blood-soaked clothing. Rick mention they’d ran into some trouble while raiding the clubs bar area, which upon first inspection held dozens of dead bodies that littered the floor. It wasn’t until those bodies began to get up that they realized they were trapped. Now, both Michonne and Rick’s clothes were coated in dried blood. She stepped back, ripping off her fingerless gloves and offered Daryl a bright smile as she went to walk away.

“Hey, Michonne?” He asked, flicking a hand in the direction of her now dark red jeans “You alright? S’a lotta blood.”

She briefly glanced down at herself, twisting one leg and spotting a patch of untouched, grey denim on the back of her leg.

“Yeah.” She sighed, looking back up and shrugging “I’m good. Could use some new pants though.” He saw her vision move back to Jess, who was sitting on the sidewalk outside the storage garage, rummaging through a bag of clothes and throwing items off to the side, one after the other. Seemingly not interested in any of them. Changing her course and deciding instead to indulge in the Alexandria version of shopping, Michonne stepped off the sidewalk, away from Daryl and into the road.

“Rick came off worse” She called back “he had an ear stuck to his arm at one point”

Daryl snorted with laughter and stood up, retreating to the front porch of the house as evening began to close in.

For the next hour, Jess took the time to change up some of her wardrobe. As the apocalypse dictated that survivors opt for comfort over style, she was more than happy to oblige, thanking her lucky stars that even before the turn, she preferred sneakers and boots to heels and platforms, pants and shorts to skirts and ballgowns and cared very little about following the latest trends and having the newest release from an overpriced brand that used sweatshops to manufacture their goods. Jeans were now an issue considering her substantial weight loss. It meant that she wasn’t even sure what size she was anymore and most of her clothing was chosen through trial and error. Having picked out two black pairs and throwing them into a cardboard box that sat next to her on the sidewalk, she started sifting through socks, looking for the thickest pairs and totally ignoring anything brightly colored that a deer could spot at five hundred feet away. Night was falling and with her mask risen over her face, she made a mental note to go straight to Aaron and Eric’s house and use their spare room, where she had the use of a full-length mirror in which to try on her newest clothing selections.

Outside their house, Rick and Daryl took it in turns to aid Judith with a chunky, bright jigsaw puzzle that depicted a family going on a bear hunt. Daryl thought it to be quite apt considering his daily routine usually always started out with hunting for what had now become his adoptive family. Pieces were lifted into the air with tiny hand and chatter ensued over where the piece in question was to be placed. Rick volunteered the answer every time while Daryl held back, telling him he was too soft and that he should let the kid figure it out for herself. When the puzzle was completed, Daryl demanded the smallest of high-fives from Judith while Rick looked at him knowingly.

“What?” Daryl asked, uncomfortable with his friends’ smirk.

“Calling me soft.” He mentioned “Come a long way from who you were at the quarry”

Dressed in a crisp, white T-shirt that was the equivalent to the holy grail when they were outside of the walls, Rick leaned comfortably back in his seat and sipped a beer from a glass bottle. His brown, curly hair was still wet from the long shower that was much needed after being saturated with clotted blood earlier on in the day. Daryl’s beer remained on the tabletop, his attention having been too focused on Judith and her problem solving for him to have consumed more than a couple of mouthfuls. He dipped his head, Rick’s words playing on his mind.

“What’s that s’posed to mean?” He questioned.

“It’s a good thing.” Rick started before sipping his beer again and gently stroking the soft, blond curls of Judith’s head as she chatted quietly to herself between them. “You were going to end up like your brother.”

“What, dead?” Daryl snapped, furrowing his brow

“No.” Rick shot back sternly. “Choosing the wrong path. You were smarter than that.”

Daryl finally picked up his beer and took a large gulp, the cold liquid providing a refreshing relief from the heat of the day’s activities. He didn’t see himself as some kind of success story, he was just a kid from the wrong side of the tracks that never amounted to anything. The fact that he hadn’t made the same choices as Merle in the end proved nothing. He’d missed out on a role model that wasn’t someone consumed by drugs, alcohol and hairbrained schemes to make money.

“Had the right folks ‘round me.” He mumbled.

Maybe he was right. But Rick thought he was selling himself short, as he always did by default. Tuneful humming from across the street caused him to look up to where Jess was ambling along the sidewalk carrying a box of clothes. Her mask and hood up. She turned her head in time to see Daryl notice her too and awkwardly shifted the box to one side, holding it with one arm while she raised the other to offer a wave at the two men and the tiny child on the porch. Daryl and Rick both mirrored her gesture, earning them a grin that neither of them could see under her mask. When the box under her arm began to fall, she quickly slapped her other hand under it and waddled to the end of the street, taking the corner and vanishing from sight.

“You know, for a long time we were just running from one place to the next, one fight after another. We never really had the time to stop and take stock of what we have. Of who we have. Now, we can and we should. We can all come back from it. We’re not too far gone.” He expressed.

Daryl met his eye and understood perfectly what he was saying. From all the death and destruction, he may have lost his brother and he would never forget him, but he’d gained an entire family. He was now ‘Uncle Daryl’ and had a friend in Rick who also saw him as a brother.

“I know.” He agreed with ease, placing the beer bottle on the table and turning it between his fingers.

“How’s things with you and Jess?” Rick asked.

Daryl's back prickled at the question. He hadn’t expected to be asked such a thing and wasn’t sure how to respond. He sighed loudly and nibbled his lower lip while the thought. How were things, really? It was a good question.

“OK, I guess.” He offered “She talks to me more. Said she wants to be friends like before”

Rick shot a look at the corner of the street where Jess had disappeared from view not minutes before when he noticed Judith yawning loudly. Daryl ruffled her hair and lifted his arm, allowing the child to settle against his side and curl her legs under herself.

“That’s good. I’m glad she found us again. I remember how angry you were at the quarry, when she left.” Rick reminded him.

“Cared ‘bout her.” Daryl confessed, much to Rick’s surprise. His reaction to Jess’s departure spoke volumes at the time and Rick was certain that everyone and his dog knew that Daryl cared for Jess. What he’d never done was actually said it.

“And now?” Rick pressed.

Daryl huffed and glared at him, a thin smile on his lips. He was digging, Daryl knew that much. It was something that had crossed his mind more than once and oftentimes he found himself pondering over who thought that the friendship he shared with Jess could possibly blossom into something more. Now, he had his answer, Rick was one of those people.

“I know what you’re doin’, man.” He confirmed

Rick set his bottle down as he chuckled quietly to himself. He held his hands up in surrender.

“Hey, I’m just reminding you that we’ve all been through enough. I get to be more of a father to Carl and this little one” He paused to gently run the back of his finger down the soft skin on Judith’s arm. “Can focus on what makes me happy a little more than I could before. I thought maybe you should do the same. Jess, she’d be good for you.”

Daryl shifted, his hand moving to his face and rubbing at the greying bristles of his chin. His vision wasn’t fixed on anything in particular, rather darting from one area to the next in an attempt to find something to comment on that would enable him to change the subject.

“It ain't like that.” He uttered. It sounded as if he’d voiced the words to himself instead of Rick.

“Maybe not.” Came the reply from across the table. Daryl reluctantly looked over at his friend. “But it could be.”

Daryl raised an eyebrow in disbelief. It was the first time Rick had ever raised such a touchy subject. Carol tried and wasn’t granted a straight answer. Why was everyone so hellbent on seeing him become romantically involved with Jess?

“Aint gonna happen” He stated “She don’t want that from me. Can do better anyways.”

“That’s not what she wrote in that journal back at the quarry.” Rick mentioned “But OK. Whatever you say.” His face was displaying another smirk that told Daryl he could protest all he wanted, but it was all just denial.

Daryl thought back to a previous conversation with Jess and one particular comment stood out to him.

“I had a crush on you. I lied and said it was all crap because I was embarrassed.”

Maybe Rick was right, maybe there was a chance for something to happen between them, but for Daryl, the risk was too great. A friendship so unique and so unheard of for him was too precious to ruin and he knew he couldn’t face losing her again. She may have had a crush on him before, but times had changed and so had she, now he was nowhere near sure that she would ever think of him in that way again.

He picked up his beer, downed the liquid inside and suppressed a burp, holding a fist to his lips for fear of waking a now sleeping Judith. As he slowly inched away from her on the double seater, he lifted her from the cushioning and positioned her at his chest, where her arms clung to his neck and her face nuzzled into his shoulder. Rick offered a small nod of gratitude at Daryl’s decision to take Judith inside and put her to bed.

“Thanks, Man. I’ll be in a minute” he told him.

“I’ll get her to bed, then I’m gonna head across the street. Go see Jess.” Daryl rasped as he side stepped out from behind the table.

“Really? Changed your mind?” Rick asked with a grin.

“Quit it. ‘fore I start askin’ shit ‘bout you n’ Michonne.” Daryl threatened, his tone challenging but laced with a humorous intent that Rick could sense straight away. He merely laughed and offered no explanation or comment on his relationship with Michonne, he didn’t need to, Daryl was observant, he knew everything anyway.

Daryl was sure Judith would continue to give everyone around her the run around even as she got older. An hour later and he had answered a million questions, fetched her a drink, checked under the bed for monsters, put her back in bed after she bolted for the door, fetched her a different drink and successfully managed to avoid having to sing her a lullaby. As he watched her sleeping soundly from the door, he figured that if he had children or not wouldn’t matter anyway, he had all he needed in his duties as an uncle.

When he appeared at Aaron and Eric’s he was informed by Eric that Jess had just left for the fairground after declining and offer to stay the night. He’d missed her by maybe five minutes and if he hurried, he would catch her up. He hoisted the black bag he carried back onto his shoulder, thanked Eric and set off for the gate.

Inside her fairground home, Jess lay on her front on the wooden framed bed, flicking through the pages of an old journal, the same one that documented her transition from survivor on the run to quarry camp occupant. It told of her misplacement, her time as an outsider, unable to settle or find her place in the group. It reminded her of the humiliation she suffered and eventually, the light bulb moment which resulted in her leaving the camp and making her way on her own.

It was strange to her, to read back over the words that she’d written herself. She wasn’t sure who that girl was anymore. Her awkward nature and tendency to overthink things was most definitely still present. But her fear and self-doubt had now waned and made way for courage and independence in most areas. Just not all of them. She knew her defense mechanism meant she was colder on the surface, stoic to those that didn’t know her well and intimidating to those that wanted to.

Candles illuminated the room along with two oil lanterns that she’d brought from the boat when she’d uprooted once more, in search of a new home. Her king-size bed, brought in by a truck borrowed from Alexandria, was layered with various, multicolored blankets and the floor boasted a large, black rug that she’d enlisted Aaron’s help with when she spotted it in the living room of a house nearby. Deanna provided her with a black bookshelf to match as an unsuccessful bribe to move to the safe zone for good and the walls were adorned with maps and drawings of the local area’s fauna. A workstation on the counter of what once was a diner was used to craft arrows and stakes that were lined along the fences, ready to impale any Walkers that happened to stray from the woods and into the minefield around her home.

On the front gate of her property hung a bell. Visitors were rare and were only ever in the form of Aaron, being the only one that knew the exact location of the fairground and the only one permitted to visit. From the one, uncovered window of the diner, she could gain a clear view of anyone hovering around the gate or fences.

Taking one last bite of the apple she’d been eating, she threw the core into the trash and rolled onto her back, staring up at the cracked and peeling paintwork on the ceiling. The sound of the bell from outside caused her to freeze for a few seconds as her mind struggled to think of who could possibly be outside at this hour. She’d seen Aaron already that night and so was almost positive it wasn’t him. She swung her legs from the bed and slowly raised her body to peer over the window ledge.

In the darkness, she could make out the shape of a crossbow. She sprang up, dragged her fingers through her tousled hair, checked her reflection in the broken mirror by her bedside and groaned to herself at the sheer inconvenience of it all. One blessing of wearing a mask all the time was never having to be too concerned with her appearance. It was the end of the world and such things shouldn’t be at the forefront of anyone’s mind, but Jess often told herself that if she asked around the women of Alexandria and had them all answer honestly, very few would say they got out of bed in the morning without so much as a peep in the mirror.

She brushed her eyebrows into shape with her index fingers, rubbed at the bags under her eyes and blew a tuft of hair out of her vision before grabbing a hooded jacket and heading to the door. Before opening it, she lifted her hood up and cleared her throat, readying herself. For what, she had no idea.

Daryl was leaning on the fence as she neared him, a black backpack hanging from his hand which was positioned above him, showing off the defined shape of his upper arm. She ignored it as best she could, instead trying to figure out what would bring him there at night and so out of the blue.

“Evening, Stinky.” She shot at him with a hand placed on her hip.

“Hey.” Was all he rasped back at her.

“Spend all day with me and then you turn up at my gate at this late hour. People will talk.” She jested bravely, all the while cursing herself inside for making would could be seen as a flirtatious comment.

“Let ‘em talk.” He shrugged “Can I come in?”

She moved closer to the gate, peering at him through the gaps in the chain link. He was pushing her rules, rules that she’d set in stone for a reason to protect herself both physically and emotionally. She had to stand firm and maintain her promise to herself.

“I don’t let anyone in, Daryl. You know that.” She told him. “I’m sorry.”

He stepped back, removing his hand and the bag from the fence. The metal shook in its frame and Jess closed her eyes briefly and sighed.

“I don’t let nobody on that bike.” He commented, telling her in no uncertain terms that he’d made an exception for her and he expected the same in return. She slowly looked him up and down, pursing her lips as she considered her options.

“Ya still don’t trust me” He added

“It’s not…” she paused and noticed his expression. Sad and defeated. “… OK, fine. But just in the grounds.”

She unlocked the gate and stepped aside, seeing Daryl slowly step inside and scan the fairground. After locking it behind him, she motioned with her hand towards the disused Ferris wheel, to which he followed her, sitting beside her in one of the cars which rocked back and forth with a soft rhythm as they dwelled in a temporary silence.

Handing her the backpack, his eyes darted down to it, signaling that she should open it. She dragged the zipper around and separated the two halves of the bag to find five, neatly folded t-shirts. Her fingers drifted over the symbol on the top of the pile. Avengers.

This is…mine. All of these are mine. What the hell?

Her mind began to race and her jaw dropped open. Daryl was in possession of five of her T-shirts that she’d worn at the Quarry. Utterly speechless, she lifted them out of the bag and onto her lap.

“Took ‘em from ya apartment in the city.” He croaked quietly “Knew the place was yours when I saw ‘em all folded on the countertop”

“You… you kept them.” She stated.

“Yeah”

“Why?”

“Kept this too” he said, ignoring her question and tugging the note she’d left him from his jeans pocket. It was folded up into a tiny, neat square. “But ya already know that”

She did know he’d kept the note but was seeing it for the first time properly since she wrote it. They both scanned the words on the page and Jess thought it was almost like looking at someone else’s writing. Like she never wrote it herself. Like it was from a different time, in someone else’s past. Shame and regret surged through her after she read the first sentence on the page and she quickly looked away.

“I don’t understand” she admitted

“Just figured you’d want ‘em back.” He expressed.

“No. I mean I don’t understand why you’d keep them. If you thought I was dead.” She corrected.

“Reminded me of you.” Was all he said. A short answer that meant so much. It was his way of telling her that he wanted to keep a part of her with him. She smoothed her hand over the T-shirts while he folded the note and put it back in his pocket.

“You should throw that away” she suggested, hoping that she would never have to see it again.

“No.” He refused bluntly.

“Daryl, that note is only a reminder of a time we’d both rather forget.” She pleaded.

“Nah. I’m good.” His declining to be rid of the note was hard to express to her in words. He wanted to keep it because it reminded him of how distraught he was at the realization that she didn’t want to see him again. It took finding the note to make him admit that he cared deeply about her and he never wanted to forget that. Telling her was near enough impossible and so, he kept quiet, hoping that he hadn’t come across as anything more than a close friend that had missed her. Jess could tell he was going to be adamant about keeping it and decided to avoid a confrontation.

“This was one of my favorites” she mused. Looking down at the Avengers T-shirt on the top of the pile. “I guess I could make some pretty cool tents out of these now”

“Stop it.” He snapped.

Jess could feel the irate nature of his comment and concluded that in making fun of herself, she was only making him angry.

“I’m allowed to laugh at myself y’know. Lighten up.” She smiled.

“Whatever” he mumbled.

Needing to dispel his anger and change the subject at the same time, she took the impulsive and bold decision to place her hand over his forearm. He immediately looked down at it but made no attempt to move. To Jess, it was like she was looking down on herself from some astral plane, watching the woman that looked like her and sounded like her and had a soul that was just the same, yet she was acting in a way that Jess never would. But he’d been the first to make this move, back at the expensive house in which she’d shared her reason for wanting to take the Star Wars shirt. He’d touched her first and she took that as a sign that maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t hate her imitating his gesture. Braving a physical touch, platonic or otherwise was so far removed from her regular behavior that she was sure she caught Daryl startle a little.

“Thank you.” She whispered. “It means a lot to me that you kept these”

He nodded once and cleared his throat. All too aware that his attempt to speak may well emerge as a gruff croak instead of actual words. “S’nothin’.” He grumbled “Just don’t want ya to forget who ya are.” For a fleeting second Jess thought that he may well have heard what was going through her mind as she poured over the pages of her old journal and tried to find some trace of her old self within her. Then, it dawned on her that it was impossible that he’d heard a thing. He wasn’t even there. What was possible, was that they were both on the same page, at the same time, thinking over the same thing. “I never did” he added.

Jess removed her hand, albeit not through choice. She would have left it there all night given the chance. But the longer she held onto his arm, the more uncomfortable it would get. The car gently rocked back and forth, lulling them both into a wordless trance for a few moments where they simply enjoyed one another’s company and listened to the wind blow through the trees.

“You really are sentimental these days,” she grinned, snapping him out of his daydream.

He huffed and took the empty bag from her grasp. He busied himself by fastening the zipper and sliding it over his arms until it was comfortably positioned at his back.

“I really do like sentimental Daryl.” Jess added while looking down at the pile of shirts in her lap and tracing a finger over the ‘A’ emblazoned on the top.

“Dunno what ya talkin’ ‘bout” he mumbled.

She climbed out of the car and hugged the shirts to her chest. Daryl took it as his cue to leave, counting being let inside as a small triumph alone and not wanting to push his luck.

“Thanks for the ride today too.” She threw in as an attempt to steer the subject away from his sentimentality and not wanting to linger too long on anything that could encourage her to get carried away. “Terrifying but exhilarating all at the same time” she remembered.

“Anytime.” He told her with a small nod “only you though"

Next Chapter

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