Xuebing Du
Keni
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
#extradirty
oozey mess
NASA
No title available
dirt enthusiast
Love Begins
$LAYYYTER
Stranger Things
JVL
No title available
hello vonnie
Kiana Khansmith
No title available
JBB: An Artblog!
taylor price
Discoholic 🪩
roma★
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
@bloodydrache
IN THE WORLD OF TWD MASTERLIST.
Summary:
You woke up in the world of TWD, and you fought so hard to not change the plot of the show, to not get too close— afraid that you'll end up with more losses than not. However, the more time you spend with them, interact with them, laugh and smile with them.. You realize that you're slowly getting attached to every single one of them.
Still, you try not to socialize much, because you don't want to get hurt when a character dies. But.. People is real stubborn.
00, 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, 09, 010.
011, 012, 013, 014, 015, 016, 017, 018, 019, 020.
021, 022, 023, 024, 025, 026, 027, 028, 029, 030.
031, 032, 033, 034, 035, 036, 037, 038, 039, 040.
The story will be updated every other day, but a new chapter may come twice a day depending on how the day goes so far. Just keep an eye out. :D
Take note that the story will have enough divergence to still be canon compliant, and unfortunately, this may have an x reader tag on it, but the story isn't that focused on romance. There are no definite endgame for the reader yet, but I'm broadening the possibilities on whom you will end up with.
In the world of TWD, 037.
Summary:
You woke up in the world of TWD, and you fought so hard to not change the plot of the show, to not get too close— afraid that you'll end up with more losses than not. However, the more time you spend with them, interact with them, laugh and smile with them.. You realize that you're slowly getting attached to every single one of them.
Still, you try not to socialize much, because you don't want to get hurt when a character dies. But.. People is real stubborn.
You walked out of the house after Hershel and Rick finished their talk, with Rick storming off after he revealed to Hershel that his wife is pregnant.
You followed behind Rick after a minute of just standing there in silence and bumped into Maggie on your way out. You nodded your head in acknowledgement and continued on your way, but before you could fully descend the porch stairs, she called out to you.
“Can I talk to you?” Maggie asked, making you stop in your tracks.
You spun in your heels to look up to her, your eyes clashing with her teary ones.
The sight immediately caused you to curse aloud and rush forward, “Oh, shit, yeah— yeah, yeah, sure. What happened? How can I help?”
Maggie simply shook her head, and you took that as a sign to hesitantly wrap your arms around her shoulders to embrace her. Hugs are the only way you could think of to offer comfort without talking. It's what your little sisters do when you refuse to talk, so you assumed that it would help her, too.
Thankfully, Maggie backed up your assumption by returning the hug with her tears starting to pour out of her eyes and dripping down to your shirt.
“I'm so sorry about yesterday.” She sobbed, voice hushed and heavily laced with remorse, “But.. But I just couldn't help it. It— It almost got me. Almost got you. I just.. I just couldn't do anything.”
“It's fine.” You quickly assured her, blinking owlishly as you patted the back of her head like how you patted Beth's head earlier. “It's not the first time, and it won't be the last. There will be more close calls in the future, but when it happens, I'll make sure that you're not the one I'm with.”
You uttered the words without thinking about how they sounded, because the only thing in your mind is to comfort her. You didn't notice how awful the words sounded the moment they left your mouth.
Maggie chuckled dryly, her arms tightening around you a little, “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
*Uh, yeah..?” You answered, slightly puzzled with the question.
“Well, you suck at it.” Maggie laughed softly, sniffling and crying still.
She hated how easy it was for you to say those words. It was like.. Like you already accepted your fate that it will happen someday, like you made up with the fact that is the only way to live in this world.
To survive, only to be cornered, grabbed, bitten, and eaten alive by those gnarly things.
“You're awfully worse at this than dad, (last name).” Maggie murmured, her tears falling faster and harder, “But God help me.. That somehow worked on me, and I hate it. I hate how you and Glenn don't seem to mind taking down those things.. Those walkers. He didn't even hesitate. You didn't hesitate. You didn’t even cry. Why didn’t you cry? Now, I can’t help, but cry.”
She continued crying, and all you could do was tighten your arms around her. You have comforted people throughout your whole life. Sure, it was just your family, but it was because of them that you don't know how to comfort people who aren't them.
Well, Maggie is not an actual stranger to you, but you can't comfort someone who had just almost got herself killed.
You didn't comfort yourself when you almost died back at the store. Not because you wanted to, but because you don't know how to. Still, you are sure that it will catch up to you some time in the future, but for now, you're basking in the bustling activity around you to distract yourself from what happened.
Too bad the same thing doesn't apply to Maggie.
“Look, Maggie.” You started, hand curling behind her head. “As you can hear, I'm not the best person for the job. I suck with words or actions. I suck at comforting, but I do my best, alright? I can't promise for sure, but.. But if you need to talk someone's ear off, then you know where to find me.”
“So you only listen?” Maggie croaked out, her tears slowly ceasing as she pulled away from your embrace.
“Unfortunately.” You grunted, shifting your weight on your other foot once she's far enough from you, “Told you, I'm not good with these things. I can listen if you want, but expect that I can't offer anything else. Though I may not look like it, I actually love some drama to spice things up around here.”
That pulled a laugh from Maggie's lips, “As if those walkers aren't enough as a drama for you.”
Your head snapped up immediately, eyes widening in horror. You didn’t hear it properly earlier, but did she just call those gnarly things inside the barn walkers? Like those flesh eating monsters? Walkers? Them?
You inhaled sharply and couldn't stop yourself from chiding her.
“Maggie! You cannot say that term around your father, you hear me? He'll nag you and tell you to not hang out with me just like what he did to Beth!” You hissed, your hands doing gestures in the air, “I get that he doesn't want his daughters to hang around a person who's not exactly friendly looking, but I do like you around—”
“Relax.” Maggie hushed you, placing her hands on your shoulders and shaking you lightly. “Even if he tells me to not talk to you, I'll still talk to you.”
You can feel the worry slowly rolling off you, but you kept your hands hovering in the air between you two. You relaxed and stared at her, because what’s with her and Beth wanting to disobey Hershel’s order to not associate themselves with you? Do they want to have you banned from going inside the house?
“That's not reassuring.” You mumbled, eyebrows furrowing in worry. “That makes me feel kind of bad.”
“Don't be.” She snorted, pulling her hands away from your shoulders to slide them up to your jaw and leaned forward to plant a quick kiss on your cheek, which immediately made you tense under her palms.
“Thanks for comforting me even if you were awful at it.” Maggie mumbled, pressing another kiss on your cheek.
“Didn't have to shoot me where it hurts.” You forced out, trying your best to ignore her.
“I’m not wrong.” She reiterated, her voice soft and warm as she smiled at you. “I.. I didn't think that you would be this fun to be with. You were dark and brooding when you rushed inside the house the time Carl got shot, you know? You weren't exactly wearing a friendly face at the time.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” You retorted, raising an eyebrow, making Maggie shake her head and giggle.
“No, but seriously.” Maggie continued, the playful tone in her voice dying down. “You were far from what I expected you to be. You were competent, incredibly competent might I add, and always alert of your surroundings. When you were fresh from blood transfusions, you looked for the little girl that's missing the very next day, right? Even brought back that guy with a crossbow and got the two of you shot on the head by that woman with blonde hair.”
“Uh, the man with the crossbow is Daryl and the woman is Andrea.” You quietly informed her, forcing your gaze away from her face.
She paused, her thumbs gently caressing your cheek as she recalled what happened yesterday once more, “Yeah, whatever their name is. You, however, saved my life. You and Glenn saved my life. I.. For that.. I couldn't be more thankful.”
If there are two things you're not good at, it would be confrontation and gratitude.
You do things, because it makes you feel useful. You hate feeling useless when you could have done something to help lessen the burden of someone. In your family, it has always been an unspoken rule to help around the house if you aren’t doing anything. It doesn’t matter whoever was running around, because you, your little sisters, and cousins, will always find a way to offer help to the elders in the house.
Your grandmother, or aunts, cooked food? You’ll be washing the dishes. You cooked food? One of your little sisters or cousins will be washing the dishes instead. Sometimes, more often than not, the four of them would alternate the duty between the four of them.
You grew up in a household where receiving thanks verbally is not mandatory. Your family would do something else as their way to say thank you. Yaica would smile and squeeze your hand. Yasmin would hug you and kiss your cheek. Camille would smile and hug you tight, with Lawrence opting to give you a hug or a pat, or sometimes, the four of them would just buy something you like and give it to you.
On the other hand, if your grandmother or grandfather wanted to express their gratitude, they would do so by cooking your favorite food. You often find yourself surprised whenever you pay them a visit, because your favourite food, along with your little sisters’ and cousins’ favourite food, is already cooked.
Your family can be affectionate as they can be, but never this affectionate. They’re not that open with their affections, too, so Maggie expressing her appreciation by giving you a hug and kiss made you tense.
You’re not much of a fan of physical touch, especially if it’s other people than your family, but for some reason, you couldn’t push off Maggie.
You could only swallow nervously and wonder why the woman before you is seeking comfort from you of all people. You're not sure what to say to Maggie's words of gratitude either. You never heard them from someone else before.. It has always come from your little sisters, cousins, uncle, and your friends. Strangers? You help them, but they don't stop you just to say thanks.
But Maggie.. The woman looked at you like you hung the moon for her. It's not the same look she gives Glenn, but it felt weirdly similar to that.
“You're welcome.” You managed to stammer out, eyes looking everywhere, but Maggie.
She could feel the nervousness rolling off your tense body, but she couldn't find it in herself to pull away from you. You're amazing. You're brave, smart, thoughtful, and sweet in your own way. You don't go out of your way to say bullshit that means nothing. You go out of your way to show that you care, that you give an actual fuck on what's happening.
Unlike someone, you have been far more productive and helpful to your group. It's just sad to see that you don't seem to share the same opinion about yourself as her.
“I'll, uh, go inside to prepare lunch.” Maggie voiced out, her hands squeezing around your cheeks for a moment before she pulled away. “Care to join us for dinner later? I'll have Glenn or Beth fetch you.”
You pursed your lips, a pondering expression crossing your features. You don't feel comfortable enough to have lunch with them, especially when Hershel’s been vocal about you not being a good person to be around with Beth, but you don't want to make Maggie upset either.
It took you a while before you managed to eat something near Rick's group, always pulling yourself away to go eat somewhere else, but the thought of eating with Hershel's family didn't seem bad.
“I'll think about it.” You concurred, gaze snapping up to look at Maggie's eyes. “Alright?”
“Alright.” Maggie echoed, smiling softly.
She spun around and reached out for the screen door, pulling it open. She carefully walked inside the house and let the door slowly close behind her. Before she vanished inside completely, she threw you one more glance and caught the sight of you turning around to talk to Carol. It made her feel a little upset, but she veered her attention away and went straight to the kitchen to start preparing the ingredients needed for lunch.
You, on the other hand, raised an eyebrow at Carol when she called for you.
“Anything I can help you with?” You asked, shifting in your spot and turning around to face the approaching woman. “If this is about what happened earlier, don't worry, I won't cause any more trouble—”
“No, no.” Carol denied and was quick to intervene as she stopped in front of you. “I just heard that you're pulling away, so I decided to see for myself if it’s true.”
You blinked owlishly, body growing tense when you sensed something was amiss.
Carol is a sweet, loving, and caring woman who thrives to be as understanding as she could to the people in the group. She has the patience of a saint, as brave as a lion, as strategic as she could be, and you have always loved her for that. However, right now, she has this certain look in her pretty face that causes a shiver run down your spine.
“Pulling away?” You repeated carefully, the words settling on your tongue like spice. “Who said that to you?”
“Does it matter?” Carol shot back, voice all snarky.
“No.. No, of course not.” You mumbled, feeling awkward all of a sudden from the change of behavior, “About that pulling away thing.. No, I'm not really pulling away. I just needed space. I set up my tent at the back of the house, just right before the treeline. That's not far from the campsite, so if you want, you can visit anytime.”
The words stumbled out of your mouth in a heap of hazy panic, too quiet to be heard, too fast to be comprehensible, but somehow, the woman caught it all.
“Okay. Sure.” She hummed, the corner of her lips quirking up in that familiar sweet smile of hers. “Just to be sure. Can you promise? You don't mind if I come over to your tent right now to get your clothes to wash them? I didn't get to wash them last time, you know.”
You stared at her. You couldn't help, but notice that she's acting weird— and it's not just her.
People are acting odd. You don't remember Carol approaching someone other than Daryl in season 2. She even went as far as calling Rick a madman at the end of season 2. She didn’t stick to anyone’s side either, always sticking close to Daryl however and calling herself a burden. She approached no one, but here she is, approaching you.
You feel a little uncomfortable with the thought, so all you could manage to do was give her a small nod of agreement.
“How thoughtful of you.” Carol chuckled and stepped forward, her arms wrapping around you, which made her catch how you immediately tensed and held your breath, “I mean, you have always been thoughtful, but you seem more thoughtful now ever since Sophia went missing.”
“Mmn.” You grunted out, frozen in place and unable to move away from her.
Carol laughed, finding such a sight adorable. You may be the type to not get too close to people and show that you care, but your actions screamed that you are, that you care a lot, and people around you noticed.
Even though you're violent towards people who disrupt the peace of the group, even though you threaten to punch people as a piece of your mind, even though you kept snapping at Andrea and Daryl, even though you lashed out at Shane earlier— Carol can't seem to think that you're some kind of rabid animal Shane says you are.
You're far from a rabid animal, and thinking back about it.. She should have said something when Shane uttered those words about you back at the CDC.
You weren't around that time, no one was really around at the time, but he had said a lot of things about you behind your back. He was drunk out of his wits and spilled half of his thoughts about the people in the group to Carol when he stumbled down the hall and bumped into her.
He continued to blabber about you and Rick, and she listened until she couldn't deal with his drunkass anymore.
He was weird then, but he's weirder now.
Carol pushed the thoughts to the back of her head and pressed her lips on your cheek, tightening her arms around you and pulling you closer, “Thank you so much for being a sweetheart. With you, Daryl, Rick, and others making an effort to look for her.. I just know that we will find her.”
“It's no problem.” You mumbled, finally managing to utter out a coherent sentence to the woman. “It's the least I could do—”
“No.” Carol interrupted you, pulling away just enough to keep her arms wrapped around your neck, just enough to be able to see your face, just enough to send you a pointed look to keep your mouth shut.
You stopped yourself from speaking, not wanting to sadden the sweet woman.
She smiled at the docility, leaning forward and pressing her forehead against yours, “It was no one's responsibility to look for my little girl, but mine. Yet, you're making an effort for her. Don't downplay your contribution to the group, okay?”
Your lips formed a firm line as you nodded your head. You don't trust your voice to work, so you relied on your body to do the confirmation.
Carol couldn't be happier to see that you're going along with her whims, even if you're obviously not as affectionate as she is. She was pleased at the fact that you don't look comfortable with her having her arms around you, but didn't do anything to push her away nor pull away.
“Just as I have said, you earned your keep.” She whispered, pressing another kiss on your cheek.
Previous chapter, next chapter.
In the world of TWD, 036.
Summary:
You woke up in the world of TWD, and you fought so hard to not change the plot of the show, to not get too close— afraid that you'll end up with more losses than not. However, the more time you spend with them, interact with them, laugh and smile with them.. You realize that you're slowly getting attached to every single one of them.
Still, you try not to socialize much, because you don't want to get hurt when a character dies. But.. People is real stubborn.
The moment you stepped a foot on the porch, the screen door swung open. Beth walked out, her lips curled down into a frown. When she spotted you frozen by the stairs, she rushed down and wrapped her arms around you.
You blinked, eyes catching sight of Hershel shaking his head before the door shut. You could feel Beth's trembling frame against yours, so you awkwardly reached a hand to give her a pat on the back of her head. You don't know what happened between her and her father, but you would rather not be in the middle of it.
Beth, on the other hand, doesn't share the sentiment.
“Daddy said I can't hang around you anymore.” Beth sobbed, her tears dripping down to the crook of your shoulder as she hugged you tighter. “But I enjoyed our lesson yesterday.. You taught me how to hold a knife. I don't know why daddy doesn't want me to hold one— I'm a big girl now, aren't I?”
Right.. You had forgotten that you taught Beth the basics of how to handle a hunting knife. The commotion in front of the barn and the argument with Rick clouded your mind, but right, you taught her the basics.
What you had in your belt is a kitchen knife, a spare knife that you don't know where you got from, and a hunting knife that you picked up on the way back to the farm when you came with Maggie and Glenn to fetch the items Lori will need. You taught her how to use a kitchen knife to kill a walker, even going as far as letting her hold your knife.
In all honesty though, you yourself don't know how to handle a goddamn hunting knife, but the (full name) in this world seemed to know how to handle one.
When you taught Beth the basics last night, you were struggling to find the right words. You're not a hunter by any means, but your skills on handling the said knife says otherwise. You were going with the only knowledge you have and taught Beth how to use the said blade by giving her a demonstration.
It doesn't make sense to you, but your body moves on its own, as if it was merely moving according to muscle memory. You can't exactly say that you're an expert if you're not sure what you're doing most of the time, right?
Sighing, you continued patting the young lady on the head, “Look, if your daddy told you to stay away from me, then maybe it's better to stay away from me.”
Beth pulled away from your embrace, the action so quick and sudden that it made you flinch. She stepped back from you like you burned her, and the look on her face squeezed your heart painfully. You're awfully familiar with that look.. It's the kind of look that tells you that you have hurt them when they felt incredibly safe within your presence.
Beth shook her head before she stormed past you to go somewhere. You simply stood there like an idiot. You didn't bother chasing her, because you know it would complicate things more than it already was.
“Another trouble.” You grumbled, running a clammy hand down your face. “Just great.. Anyway, let's get this over with and talk to the old man.”
Hyping yourself up mentally, you glanced at the screen door and ascended the wooden porch staircase. You swung the door open and stepped inside, your eyes immediately landing on the veterinarian who was busy eating sliced fruits and reading the bible inside the dining room.
“What can I do to help you?” Hershel asked, placing his fork down on the small saucer.
“Just came here to warn you.” You stated softly, walking over to the dining table and rounding the table to take a seat in front of him across the table. “It's about the group.. Or more specifically, Shane, who is the biggest asshole in the group right now.”
Hershel hummed and looked up from his bible. The veterinarian nodded his head, silently signalling you to continue.
“He knows about the walkers inside the barn.” You uttered, watching as the old man stiffned in his seat. “Glenn told everyone this morning about it and Dale informed the group that you don't see them as.. As a walking corpse. You see them as—”
“Sick people.” Hershel hummed, finishing your sentence for you. “And what's it to your group if I don't see them the same as you?”
“The thing is.. Shane is walking in a thin line right now.” You huffed out, pushing yourself back onto the chair with a tired sigh. “The man's a murderer, Hershel. He may be a cop before all this, but this world changes people. And Shane? He changed. The moment he heard about the barn, he came storming to it and declaring to kill everyone inside it.”
Everyone. You chose your words carefully to not trigger the wrath of Hershel. You understand where he was coming from. You wholeheartedly do. You understand the devastation he felt when his wife and step son died. You understand the feeling of hoping that theft’ll still come back to normal. You would have been the same if you were him, and that is the only reason why you're threading the water as carefully as you could.
A look of understanding crossed Hershel's face as he nodded, his eyes flickering up to meet yours, “I see.. Well, that man— that murderer you speak of will have to leave before something else happens.”
“What's that supposed to mean?” You asked, raising an eyebrow and cocking your head to the side.
“It means you can—”
Knock, knock, knock.
Hershel tried to explain what he meant with his words, but the sound of knocking from the front door cut through the air and stopped him from doing so. The two of you stared at each other for a moment, before he cleared his throat.
“Come in.” He allowed, causing whoever knocked on the front door to enter the house.
You tore your gaze away from the old man and looked at the person who sauntered across the living room to get to the dining room. Rick met your gaze, and you could only shift in your seat as you quickly looked away to focus on the veterinarian before you.
“A little light reading for lunch?” Rick started, eyes flitting to the bible in front of Hershel.
“Been working so hard lately.” Hershel murmured, his gaze going back to the book before him. “I get my studying where I can, any time when I can.”
Rick nodded, mumbling, “You know we can help you out with your work.”
That got Hershel looking away from his book and sending Rick a disapproving glance. “It's my field to tend. Not yours. Not your people. Mine.”
The firmness of the doctor's statement had Rick's mouth shut, and it made you hold back a laugh. It's not appropriate to laugh at someone's distress, but the look on Rick's face was rather hilarious. You could practically see the gears turning in his head as he thought of a possible argument that can make Hershel lower his walls.
Unfortunately, he used a wrong statement to start with.
“We found the barn.” Rick announced, eyes clouded with uncertainty as he stared at Hershel.
“So I was told.” The doctor countered softly, keeping his gaze on his book and trying his hardest to be nonchalant about it, because he doesn’t want the conversion to continue, “Better leave it be.”
Rick's eyes flickered to look at you, and you could feel him boring his stare in your face— as if asking if you were the one who told Hershel about it. You didn't give him the time of the day and simply stared at Hershel's wrinkled forehead. You forced your face to look neutral as much as possible so Rick wouldn't suspect a thing, but you knew better.
He already knows that it was you.
Rick sighed through his nose and brought his attention back to Hershel, “Well, I would like to talk about it, but either way, your barn, your farm, your say—”
“I don't want to talk about the barn.” Hershel huffed out and cut him off, the tone of his voice leaving no room for argument as he looked at Rick, the stern gaze of the old man being enough to make Rick understand what he was trying to point across.
“I don't want to debate.” The doctor added.
“Not a debate, a discussion.” Rick corrected Hershel's words, his own voice soft, but firm.
Silence immediately filled the dining room, and you could practically feel yourself shiver at how cold the atmosphere had suddenly become throughout the space. Hershel didn't speak, not yet at least, but you could see the agitation swirling behind those old, kind eyes of his.
He let out a sigh through his nose and dabbed his napkin across the corner of his mouth. “I need you and your group gone by the end of the week.”
Hershel paused his movements and stared at the table, a look of realization crossing his features, then his eyes zoomed to you before he nudged his chin towards your way, “However, she can stay. I reckon she’s not actually one of your people.”
You blinked once, twice, thrice. Did you hear that correctly? You? You can stay? Because you're better off with them? Because you’re not one of Rick’s people?
Wow, what the heck? You thought, feeling confused.
You didn't expect those words from Hershel of all people. He was rather firm about his opposition to your barely forming friendship with his daughters. Not to mention, he made it pretty clear that you’re not someone he trusts Maggie and Beth to be around with, going as far as letting his youngest daughter cry, because he told her to stay away from you.
Who knew he would be this open-minded about letting a stranger stay? And what's with the sudden change of his mind?
Despite the confusion, the fact that he’s allowing you to stay made your heart warm.
Who would have expected that someone would be willing to let you stay in their place without you asking them? It's not like you weren't welcomed in Rick's group, but you could still feel the walls dividing you from the others.
You may have gotten closer with Theodore and Glenn— even with Carl, Lori, and Carol, because they went out their way to show you they appreciate you, but you could still feel that gaping dam between all of you. On the other hand, with Hershel and his family, you found yourself getting pulled towards them, especially with Beth and Maggie.
It's an odd thing to think about, but here you are, comparing the distance you could feel between you and the two groups.
You let out a sigh, quiet and tired, and focused your attention back to the conversation Rick and Hershel is still having. The two of them looked completely done with each other, but Rick particularly seemed like he was more annoyed than Hershel.
“We can't leave without her.” Rick stated bluntly, eyes narrowing as he stared at the person who saved his son, “She's part of the group. If we leave, she'll come with us.”
“Who are you to decide that, son?” Hershel shot back, voice as blunt as Rick's, his own annoyance clear on his tone, “What if she wanted to separate herself from your group? Are you going to stop her? You don't get to make a decision for her. She can leave if she wants to leave. It's a decision she will make for herself.”
Hershel had a point, but a part of you felt happy that Rick is firm with his decision of you being a part of his group. He didn't even think twice saying it. It was like he had already made up his mind about your role in the group.
“She had been with us since the beginning.” Rick countered, “She has been with me since I woke up in that hospital. She's part of us. Part of my family. Part of my group—”
“That's enough, Rick.” You huffed out, cutting through the conversation and catching the attention of the two men.
As much as you like that they're having an argument about whether you get to leave Rick's group and stay in Hershel's farm, you know that they're straying a little too far from the actual topic they had initially.
You had to veer them back to the original path.
“You didn't come here for that.” You stated, eyes devoid of emotion as you shot him a pointed look, “Right? You didn't come here to argue, you said so yourself. You're here for a discussion.”
He grew tense, and he slowly turned his head to look at you.
Rick's jaw flexed as he held himself back. You're right. You're absolutely right. Though he can't stop himself from feeling bitter at the fact that you're not refuting Hershel's words, he still knows you’re goddamn right.
Still, why aren’t you rejecting Hershel’s offer? Are you actually considering the doctor's words about you leaving the group to stay at the farm? Is it that easy to throw away the bond that you formed with them? Are the memories nothing to you now that you met people who actually can help you in times of need?
The thought made him sick, but he held back, because you're right— he wasn't here to argue. He was here to discuss.
“I talked to Dale.” Rick forced out, his voice strained with frustration that he poorly masked, and turned to look at Hershel, “You and I have our differences with the way we look at the walkers. Those.. People.”
Hershel looked back at Rick, his face twisted into a frown, but he didn't say anything and let the sheriff continue what he wanted to say.
“They may be dead, they may be alive, but my people— us, we are alive right now.” Rick stated, the underlying desperation creeping into his voice and mixing with the masked frustration, “Right here, right in front of you. You send us out there, and that could change.”
However, just like Rick, Hershel is real stubborn.
“I've given you safe harbour.” The doctor grumbled, eyebrows pinching together. “My conscience is clear. You have until the end of the week.”
Rick inhaled sharply, but didn't back down. In fact, he pulled out the chair he was leaning into and took a seat. He leaned forward to get closer to Hershel, to get the old man to look at him. Just like other people in the world, Rick is also real stubborn.
“You've been shielded from what's been going on out there.” Rick stressed loudly, keeping his eyes firmly on Hershel, the frustration now bleeding in his gaze, “Dale said you saw everything happen on the news. Well, it's been a long time since the cameras stopped rolling.”
Hershel stared at Rick for a moment before he finally decided that enough is enough.
He turned away from the sheriff and picked up his dishes, his feet maneuvering him across the hall to get to the kitchen. Both you and Rick stood up to follow him, with you trailing behind the cop who continued appeasing the farm owner.
“The first time I saw a walker, it was just half a body snapping at me and (last name) from the ground.” Rick retold the story from what happened on your first day, his footsteps loud against the floorboard as he rushed towards Herself, “My inclination wasn't to kill it, but what the world out there isn't what you saw on TV.”
Hershel continued walking and ignored Rick, his hands gently letting go of the dishes onto the sink.
“It is much, much worse and it changes you.” Rick insisted, his voice now dripping with sheer desperation, “Either into one of them or something a lot less than the person you were. Please do not send us out there again.”
You paused at the kitchen doorway and watched as Rick begged for Herself to change his mind. You know that it's only a matter of time before the farm would fall, but a place to stay in for the next few days is a lot better than being out on the road— especially when Lori is pregnant.
Lori being pregnant is one of the reasons why Rick is desperate, but Shane.. Oh, Shane must go.
You just hope that whatever you spilled to Hershel is enough to change his mind, to let the group stay, and hope against all odds that he will be completely firm on kicking Shane out of his land before anyone else could die.
You wished, begged, and prayed to whoever is watching you from above, if there is one, is listening to your plea.
Previous chapter, next chapter.
In the world of TWD, 035.
Summary:
You woke up in the world of TWD, and you fought so hard to not change the plot of the show, to not get too close— afraid that you'll end up with more losses than not. However, the more time you spend with them, interact with them, laugh and smile with them.. You realize that you're slowly getting attached to every single one of them.
Still, you try not to socialize much, because you don't want to get hurt when a character dies. But.. People is real stubborn.
“That motherfucking prick.” You hissed under your breath, throwing down your dirty rag on the ground before plopping yourself down beside your tent.
After the commotion in front of the barn, Dale confessed to everyone that he had talked to Hershel last night. He told them that the doctor sees the walkers inside the barn as sick people— people that can be cured, go back to normal, and live like normal humans again.
There was more commotion after that, but ultimately, it was Rick who broke off the argument.
Truthfully, you understand where Shane is coming from, and that causes you to be more irked more than anything. He was looking out for the group's safety, wanting the best for the people of the group, wanting to protect them, but he was doing it the wrong way.
So, in the end, you hated every fiber of his being.
You left all of them back at the barn after Rick announced to everyone to let him handle it. You knew he would handle it, knew he was capable of it, but you were filled with so much anger that you stormed off before anyone else could say a word to you.
You know being this mad at Shane, or anyone for that matter, won't do you good. You know, but to hell with that.
Anger is the second strongest emotion that you have felt ever since you woke up in this world, and punching him to let out that pent up anger made you feel alive— like you weren’t carrying those thoughts in your head for weeks on end.
You sighed, running down a hand on your face, only to wince in pain when you felt your hand throb. You used the same hand that you punched Shane with to rub your face, and since it throbbed, you know that you're hurt, so you slowly pulled your hand away from your face and turned it over.
You immediately saw the red, irritated, bleeding skin.
Great.. You let out another sigh, feeling resigned and exhausted at the sight, but a big part of you remembered vividly how exhilarating it was to punch Shane and let out your anger.
Who knew that anger and pain are the perfect partners to make someone feel better?
However, as much as it brought you relief, you couldn’t shake off the fact that you're still hurt from Andrea's gunshot and yet, here you are, already managed to get yourself hurt more in a matter of a short time. Just what are you doing with your life? Why can't you just sit still and let yourself heal in the meantime?
Just how useless can you be for you to get yourself again—
“Hey.”
You were brought out of your self deprecating thoughts when you heard someone call you. Your gaze flickered up to see who it was, and you straightened up a little when you found out that it was none other than Rick Grimes.
“Hm?” You grunted out, not in the mood to talk.
Rick slowly paused on his track, eyebrows shooting up. He couldn't help, but wonder how you can be this calm and quiet when you're far from the group, but the moment you step in Shane's vicinity, it was like a switch flipped.
Back then, you looked so mad at his best friend.
You were scowling, glowering, and kicking the man down to the ground. You looked feral, like Shane had wronged every aspect of your life. You looked so incredibly done with him— actually, no, there's a better word for that.
You looked like you wanted to skin the man alive.
However, right now, you look like a well-behaved animal, like you weren't growling and lunging at Shane. You look.. Strangely domesticated—
Rick blinked and quickly caught himself thinking that about you of all people. He stopped that thought from forming further. He can't let himself think that you're like an animal, nor should he compare you to one. That's not appropriate, right? It's disrespectful, incredibly disregarding towards someone who had helped him and the group big time.
He can't believe himself that he would think someone like you is like an animal. How could he? To you, of all people? Sighing and shaking his head, feeling a little disappointed at himself, Rick continued walking.
When he got close enough to you, he dropped to his knees.
You stiffened when he did so, forcing your confused eyes to look at him. Your eyebrows pinched together in perplexment, and even then, Rick couldn't stop himself from thinking that you're so different from how you were weeks ago. Sure, you’re still cautious, but at least you’re not running off to the woods and staying out of everyone’s radar for the night.
Rick cleared his throat, eyes flickering to look at your face.
“Mind telling me why you punched Shane?” He asked, his voice low and soft like he was coaxing a sulking child.
You looked away immediately, your fingers fiddling with one another to cover up the discomfort settling on your gut. It felt uncomfortable, really uncomfortable.. You were never the type to be confrontational. As much as possible, you try your best to stir away from trouble to not make anyone corner you and ask you questions.
Yet, here Rick is, confronting you about why you punched the biggest jerk in season 2.
“(Last name).” Rick sighed out, sounding dejected and upset, forcing himself down onto his knees so he could see you more clearly. “I get that you want to help protect the group. I know you do, but you can't just do things like that out of nowhere. People will start thinking that you’re—”
“I'm what?” You asked, tone blunt and face blank, but your voice is soft, shaking a little if he were to pay close attention, “That I'm someone dangerous? That I'm someone they shouldn't be around with?”
“What? No. No, no, no, that's not what I—” Rick stammered out, sounding a little startled.
“Yeah, right.” You huffed, eyes narrowing as you glared at him. “That's what you were about to say, isn't it? That I'm too impulsive, too up in my head, too dangerous for letting my anger be the boss of me?”
You don't know why you're lashing out on Rick.
You felt fine a few seconds ago. You merely felt uncomfortable just now. You weren't mad or anything. You didn't feel annoyed at him when he was approaching you, too, but there was this inkling feeling simmering under your skin that made you want to knock some sense into him the moment he brought up Shane.
“No, I promise it's not that—”
“Then what?” You hissed, forcing yourself up on your feet and stare down at him, “You keep trying to be good to everyone. You're too kind for your own good, but don't you know that kindness is what putting my back on a goddamn wall? I'm doing my best to support you and show that I give a fuck, Rick. But the moment I do, you question me?”
The glare pointed at him hardened, the silence between you two hanging over your heads. You waited for him to rebut your words, to assure you weren’t in the wrong, to let you know that you’re actually someone he could trust, but nothing came. Rick simply kneeled there and didn't say anything, not even a movement to show you that wasn't it— that you have the wrong idea, so you took it as an agreement.
“I'm so done.” You gritted out and turned away from him, shoulders sagging as you let your anger roll off you.
You don't know what you should be feeling right now. It mixed with the other emotions that you have bottled up for the past few days. Are you disappointed? Probably, but it's not fully pointed at him. If it is, you would have known by now.
The next question that popped up in your mind is, are you mad? Irritated? Frustrated? Maybe, hopefully, but only because Rick had the audacity to turn a blind eye on how reckless Shane has been acting, then when you were the one who reminded him of his place, Rick decided to reprimand you instead of Shane?
You let out a breath, chest heaving up and down.
“You didn't even question that fucker why he was hovering over your wife and son.” You mumbled, ducking your head to get inside of your tent. “Can't believe that one punch is all it gets for you to stop me instead of asking why that fuckface was acting like that—”
“You know about Lori and Shane?” Rick whispered, causing you to stop speaking and blink.
You stopped in your tracks. Rick's question reaches your ears with the underlying hurt and confusion apparent on how the way his voice shook— like he wasn't expecting to hear those words come from you of all people, like he wasn't aware that you knew.
You forced out a laugh, the sound coming out breathy with disbelief.
Does the sheriff peg you for someone who can't put two things together? Does he think you're someone who can't tell if something is up with people around the camp? Well, sure, you know what's up with these people because they were merely part of the show you used to watch.. But that doesn't mean that you're completely clueless and don't have social cues.
God, thinking about him thinking you’re like that is giving you a headache.
“Who doesn't, Rick?” You softly shot back after a minute of silence, turning around to give him a heated pointed look. “Shane made it pretty clear that he loves your wife.”
He flinched, the action making the hardened expression on your face soften a little.
You continued, voice hushed and dripping with concern, “He made it obvious that he's the better man to protect Carl and give the little boy what he needs back then. Didn't you see the way he's acting? Honestly, you're stupid for letting him hover around Lori. She told you already, didn't she? About him and Shane?”
Rick didn't answer right now. He failed to fully comprehend what you're saying, but he nodded nonetheless, his voice failing to function, forcing his voice to work despite the pain now residing inside his chest.
“I.. I found out yesterday.” He croaked out, his head dropping low to hide his face. “It's— it's my baby, (last name). Lori said so. She's.. She's not letting Shane get a hold of her or the baby. If anything, I won't let him think that he can have her. I'm here now. I'm alive. I'm back, and I'm leading this group now, aren't I?”
“Does this mean that you'll kill Shane then?” You asked, eyebrows furrowing.
Rick tensed and snapped his head up, “What? Why would I—”
“He killed Otis.” You stated bluntly, walking over and crouching down in front of him to meet his eyes, “That man killed Otis in cold blood. He left him there so he can bring back the supplies Hershel needs to operate on your boy. He sacrificed that man. You're not dumb, Rick. You're not stupid either. We both know what actually happened that day, don't we?”
You love Rick to the death in the show, but this guy loved his best friend a little too much to the point he gave him a lot of chances to prove himself.
You remembered getting upset with Rick and calling him stupid names. All because he continues to let Shane roam the farm unsupervised. The fucker confessed to Rick that he killed Otis to get back. He told Rick that he thinks he's not fit to protect his own wife and son. He had the nerve to say those words about his best friend's wife and son— he had the audacity.
Still, after all that, Rick gave him a chance.
Recalling what happened then made your blood boil again. God, you hate Shane so much and can't wait for the night Rick finally decided to kill him.
It's a long road ahead, unfortunately.
“We're not sure what happened, (last name).” Rick denied your claims with a tremor in his voice, and you knew that he was lying straight to your face. “Shane told everyone that Otis died a hero.”
“And you believe that?” You prodded, raising an eyebrow. “I expected more from you, Rick.”
“What am I supposed to believe then?!” He hissed all of a sudden, standing back to his feet, his voice raising in volume, “Who do you want me to believe in?!”
You grew tense at the sight of an agitated Grimes.
“You want me to believe that my own best friend— the man whom I spent years beside with, the man who protected me when I got shot— killed someone, because he thought that's what's best to do at that moment? You want me to believe that he would be so heartless to sacrifice a man just to get back to us?” Rick growled out, beads of sweat rolling down his face as he glared down at you.
“You expect me to believe that he will go that far for my son? You expect me to believe someone else's words against him?” He added, pointing an accusatory finger at the direction of the campsite, “Do you expect me to believe all that?”
“Don’t you?” You rebutted, quickly forcing your face to be blank, to remove any kind of emotion from your face, because you refuse to let Rick see how much his words are affecting you, “Because from what I'm hearing from you right now is that you're trying so hard to convince yourself, Grimes.”
An unreadable look crossed the sheriff's face immediately. You knew that you had hit a nerve right away. The look on Rick's face was the kind of look someone would flash if you had hit a mark bullseye. You forced your lips into a tight line, face as emotionless as possible.
Before you could blink and say anything further, Rick closed the distance between you two. He brought his face so close to yours to the point you could feel his hot breath against your lips, and he didn’t seem to give a shit about it, because he leaned closer, his blue eyes clouded with emotions.
“I’m not convincing myself! I believe that my best friend can and will change after we have a talk! One on one, all by ourselves, away from everyone!” He hissed, breathing ragged at how much he's trying to hold himself back from yelling at you.
“I was going to ask for the reason why you're acting like this towards him, but I guess I got my answer.” The sheriff added, giving you a look that you didn't like.
“Yeah?” You croaked out, glaring menacingly as you met his seething head-on without hesitation. “Well, while you're at it, why don't you go right ahead and fuck him in the ass, too? Since you're so hell-bent on believing that fuckass image you have of him in your mind rather than the words of your people? Of your own wife?! Lori told you that he's fucking dangerous, didn't she?!”
“That's ‘cause you all don't know how Shane is!” Rick yelled, finally breaking through the lid of his emotions. “That's not who he is! That's my best friend! That's that same man who saved me over and over again—”
“He's not the same man anymore, Rick!” You screamed back, your hands shooting out to push him off you, to put some distance between you two.
“The man you have in mind is the man before the world went to shit! This world changes people, okay?!” You forced out, your voice going high in volumes, “But that doesn't mean we go around killing people! That doesn't give him the right to kill someone, just because he thinks it was for the best! He may have been the man you say he was before all this, but he’s not the same person anymore!”
You breathed heavily, eyes blown wide. God, you hate screaming so much, but Rick needed to hear you scream to make him listen.
Rick grew quiet after your outburst. He couldn't speak, nor think, because he knows deep down in his head that you're right. He knows that you're only thinking of the group's safety, but fuck. It's hard to see Shane in a different spot light.
“He's a murderer.” You spat, voice dripping with venom. “And if you're willing to let a murderer walk around, then be my guest. I'm fucking done.”
You stormed past him, intentionally bumping your shoulder as roughly as you could against him while you did so. Your throat ached from how much and how loud you were yelling at him, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care about the pain.
The man basically told you that he can't see Shane as a murderer, even if Lori already told him that he was dangerous.
It's ironic though. You know Rick will be a murderer in the near future, too. He will become ruthless after Lori's death. He will, for sure, not be as loving and understanding as he is today, but that didn't stop him from protecting his people— oh, no, after the farm fell, he said it himself that it wasn't a democracy anymore.
You loved that about him, but the man needed to get himself kicked off from his high horse.
You sighed, eyes stinging a little. You walked further up the farm to get to the house. You need to have a talk with Hershel. You have to warn him about Shane's future actions. You can't have him getting into a fight with Rick about leaving the land. If you could, you would have killed that murderer yourself.
Unfortunately, you haven't killed anyone before. The thought of actually killing someone terrifies you, but if it's for the betterment of the group—
The thought got thrown to the back of your head the moment you saw Daryl stomping his way in your direction, his tent and bag hauled over his shoulder. You raised an eyebrow at the unexpected sight, and when he raised his gaze to look at his path, he stopped walking.
He saw you, your gaze clashing with his.
You slowly halted in your tracks, too, until you stopped in front of him. There's only three steps distance between you two, close enough to hear each other's words, but far enough to not feel the heat of the other.
“What?” He grumbled, eyebrows furrowing as he scanned you from head to toe.
“What?” You shot back, eyebrow raising as your own eyes scanned him from head to toe, mimicking his little action. “You planning to go somewhere? What's with the tent and the bag?”
A part of you already knows the answer, but you didn't want to assume. It was obvious from the get go that he's separating himself from the group. Though you don't remember him separating himself from them this early in the season, you decided to just keep your mouth shut and shook your head.
“Nevermind.” You uttered, resuming your walk towards the house and walking past him.
You continued walking and didn't wait for a response from him, the only thought in your mind at the moment is marching your way to Hershel's abode.
Previous chapter, next chapter.
In the world of TWD, 034.
Summary:
You woke up in the world of TWD, and you fought so hard to not change the plot of the show, to not get too close— afraid that you'll end up with more losses than not. However, the more time you spend with them, interact with them, laugh and smile with them.. You realize that you're slowly getting attached to every single one of them.
Still, you try not to socialize much, because you don't want to get hurt when a character dies. But.. People is real stubborn.
The fact that Beth asked you to teach her about survival, about how to handle knives better, about how to handle herself out there, about what to do if she were to get lost— it didn’t make any sense to you.
Beth was known for her kind hearted nature, her beautiful soft spoken voice, and her courage to face things head-on.
When you were watching the show, Beth had become one of the people that kept the group alive by giving them hope and that weird sense of normalcy after being on the road for a long time.
On season 3 and season 4, Beth Greene had strengthened her bonds with the other casts, and she even got herself a new boyfriend if you're not mistaken.
You remembered Beth asking Daryl on how to hunt, on how to handle his crossbow— and you remembered Daryl having a soft spot for the young girl. He let her do whatever she wanted while they were separated from the group during season 4 and season 5, and unfortunately, that's when Beth met her demise.
It's a long road to go, but thinking about it, you had the urge to wrap your hands around the scriptwriter and the director for killing off the girl that Daryl had grown fond of.
Unfortunately for you, you have a soft spot for the lady, too.
You remembered agreeing to her request yesterday, her beautiful blue eyes glossing and lower lip jutted out as she pleaded with you to teach her.
You were never fond of those fucking puppy eyes, especially when you remember your little sisters do it to you to get whatever they want— and usually, it's just stupid things that they want. However, in this world, the closest you could get to a little sister is Beth.
It will take a long time before she has to go, but you'll be damned if you were to ever let anything happen to her.
All that big talk, but I know for sure I can't change anyone's fate, because the world loves to play around with people’s feelings. You grumbled in your mind, your hand working on gathering the tent given to you by Beth.
You had an epiphany the moment you woke up.
The sky hasn't been up yet when you started cleaning up your spot. You felt scared— anxious, nervous, or perhaps it was just irrational fear, but when Beth pleaded with you to help her, you couldn't stop yourself from giving in, thinking that you wouldn't let her die anytime soon.
The thought was there until you went to sleep and it was still there when you woke up. The only difference is, you're clear headed now and is fucking scared shitless.
Beth will die.
The words repeated in your head over and over ever since you woke up, like a broken record playing on loop. It was fine to have that thought, you told yourself, because she didn't leave much impression on you in the show, much more when she died due to her doing.
Sure, it left Daryl kicking himself for letting that happen, but that was it.
It was fine then, but now.. It's different. It's completely different. Now, you can feel yourself slowly starting to care for her. You started to give a shit about her, because now— now, it's different now, because she had already crept herself in your heart.
Realizing that you have got more than you bargained for, you couldn’t stop yourself from being mad at yourself. You were careless. You have been nothing, but a fucker for fucking yourself up. You weren’t supposed to feel things for them. You weren’t supposed to be this close to them.
Yet, here you are.
I'm fucked. You hissed in your mind, picking up the bag of tent and stomped your way out of the campsite.
You fled to the tree line, your heart plummeting to your stomach. You can't handle the thought of you caring for these people when you know that they're going to die in the future, and you know what you are, for running away. You're nothing, but a coward— a pussy, a person with no balls.
You're a pathetic wimp that's chickening out over a simple act of realization that you’re starting to care.
You kicked yourself over and over, not giving a fuck if you were deprecating yourself, because you know you're a big fat coward. You're running away from them, all because of what? Because you're starting to care? Yeah, you're not just a coward, but a fucking loser, too.
Huffing and puffing, you soon found yourself dropping down on the grass right behind Hershel's house. You're not close to the campsite, but you're not too far either. You settled yourself before the tree line, just enough to see who will come to you from the direction of the house and have enough time to prepare if a walker came stumbling out of the trees.
You panted heavily, eyes bleary. You hate yourself for being like this. You hate yourself for running away the moment you find yourself cracking and caring for them.
They.. They don't deserve you.
The thought lingered all morning as you set up your camping tent. You chose a flat, debris-free surface before laying down the protective footprint, then you started assembling and raising the tent poles. You made sure that they were staked firmly and properly on the ground to keep the tent in place no matter how windy it gets.
By the time you were done, you spotted Glenn and T-Dog walking down to get to you.
Great. You let out a sigh, throwing your bag inside the tent before turning around to face the approaching two men who looked visibly morbid at the sight of you finishing the set-up of your temporary abode.
“You— why are you out here, man?” Theodore asked the moment they got close enough, his eyes looking past you to settle on your tent.
“I've been looking everywhere for you! Why are you out here? It's not safe!” Glenn exclaimed, his hands shooting up to his head to card his fingers through his dark locks as he let out a sigh, looking exhausted, “And.. And I.. I told everyone about the walkers inside the barn.”
Your eyebrow arched, but you kept your mouth shut. Whatever's happening right now is not your business anymore. You're done with them. If you want to detach yourself from the group, then you need to act fast and push everyone away from you.
You didn’t give them a reaction and simply turned away from them, continuing on setting up your little campsite.
You rummaged through your bag and tried to act like you're busy, which you really are, but it seems that even if they did see you being handsy and occupied with something, they didn't back down.
Upon realizing that you won’t respond anytime soon, the asian man decided to just continue.
“They're having breakfast right now, but Rick said they'll check the barn out after they finish eating.” Glenn mumbled, his legs buckling under his weight and falling down to his knees.
“Shane doesn't look like he'll let breakfast be done though.” Theodore added, crouching down to lend a helping hand towards his friend, “The man's been pacing around ever since he told everyone about the barn. It's only a matter of time.”
“Yeah, well, isn't that the reason why we're here?” Glenn asked, his gaze flickering to T-Dog’s hand, “We're here to beg (last name) to stop him from doing anything reckless—”
“Leave me out of this.” You stated bluntly, pivoting your weight on your heels as you turned around and glared at them. “It's your business, not mine.”
Theodore and Glenn snapped their heads up to look at you, their eyes wide in confusion. The asian man scrambled back to his feet and rushed to get in front of you to block your path, his arms shooting out on either side of him, using his body to stop you from entering your tent.
“What are you saying?” Glenn croaked out, his face twisting like he was hurt, like a kicked puppy, “You’re in this with me! Isn't that what you said to me and Dale?”
“I said nothing about helping you with it, Glenn.” You huffed out, crossing your arms on your chest as you stared at him. “If anything, I told you and the old man that I'm just waiting for you to do something, because it's not my business to say shit. You decided to tell them? Congratulations, you have grown a pair of balls. That wasn’t so hard, was it? Now, just work hard to keep me out of it.”
“Come on, don't be like that, (last name)—” Theodore grumbled, but he cut himself off when you shot him a glare over your shoulder.
Glenn and Theodore could feel the agitation rolling off you like how they felt the sun's heat blaring down on their skin. Hot, scorching, uncomfortable, and definitely intimidating. They haven't seen you mad before, but none of them would like to see what you're like when you're mad.
Still, Glenn stayed.
“Look.. I don't know what happened, but we were fine yesterday, weren't we?” The man asked meekly, his eyes clouded with emotions. “Did.. Did Maggie say something? Did I do something? Is this because of Lori? Whatever it is, we can fix it. We can deal with it. Together.”
“If it helps, I'm fine now. If you want an extra pair of hands, I'm your man.” T-Dog stated from behind you, causing Glenn to shake his head, which made the black man falter. “.. Or not.”
“You heard him.” Glenn sighed weakly, lowering his arms down to his side. “Please, just.. I don't know. Please help? I really don’t know how to handle the tension in the camp right now.. I brought T with me, because I know he wouldn’t to be left alone there, too—”
“Hey now, that’s not what I said—”
“— But if you’re there, I’m sure no one will try to do anything stupid.” Glenn pressed on, ignoring T-Dog’s attempt on correcting his choice of words, “Especially Shane. God, especially him. You should have seen the look on his face.”
Just like Beth, Glenn sent you that puppy look. You let a grimace creep to your expression, eyebrows furrowing in annoyance as you closed your eyes and pressed your hand on your face. Why must everyone give you that look? Why must that very look pull at your heartstrings like you're some kind of puppet that they can string along?
You already hate yourself, but you’re starting to hate yourself more now.
“This isn't our land.”
“God, this is our lives, man!” Shane exclaimed, getting up to Rick's face and squaring him up with that same damned look in his eyes.
You quickened your pace as you watched the group stand a few feet away from the barn. You knew that Shane will start doing shit because of the walkers inside the wooden structure and will try to become more of a pain in the ass once they cleared the walkers, but Rick has a point.
This isn't your land, neither theirs.
“Well, we can't just sweep this under the rug.” Andrea stated, before she flinched when someone walked past her in a hurry.
She turned, and she saw you.
“It ain't right.” Someone said, but you were too focused on Shane's pacing form around Rick to care to know who it was. “Not remotely.”
“We've got to make things right, or we've just got to go.” Shane hissed, glaring at his best friend. “Now, we've been talking about going to Fort Benning a long time ago—”
“We can't go.” Rick shot back, raising a hand to stop Shane from speaking further.
“Why, Rick? Why?”
“Because my daughter is still out there.” Carol answered Shane's question, making the cop let out a disbelieved scoff and ran his hands down his face.
“Okay, I think it's time that we all start to just consider the other possibility—”
“How about this possibility then?” You asked aloud, causing everyone to stop what they were doing and turn to you as you approached Shane.
You had your hand curled into fist and you had it raised high in the air, already aiming for the ugly face right before you. Everyone’s eyes went wide at the sight, and Rick scrambled to get between you and his best friend, but he was a second too late.
He called, breath hitching. “(Last name)—”
Twack.
The sound of your fist colliding against Shane's right cheek echoed in the air. The scene before them made the people around you go still and stare at you with shocked faces. You glared at Shane, your lips pulled taut into a scowl.
“Who the fuck are you to suggest thinking about other possibilities when this is a child we're talking about?!” You hissed, your hands curling around Shane's collar and dragging him close to your face. “Listen here, shit face! You're not the owner of this farm! We're guests here! You're only here, because Rick is working hard to make sure everyone gets to stay!”
Glenn and Theodore rushed towards you, their hands quickly grabbing your arms to pull you away from Shane.
“You have a problem with how Hershel runs the farm?! Then fucking leave this land, asshole! We don’t need you here!” You growled, bottled up anger and hatred spilling out through your words and eyes, “You wanna show who’s the fucking boss?! Well, watch me beat your fucking ass down to the ground!”
Shane was too stunned to say a word. He could only stare back at you and wonder why you lashed out like that— why would you scream like that towards him? He did nothing wrong to you, didn't he? In fact, wasn't he being good to you, Lori, Carol, and Carl?
“I'm close to findin’ this girl.” Daryl spat out, his voice gruff with annoyance that caused everyone to snap out from their shock. “I just found her doll a few days ago!”
Shane snapped out of his shock and turned to the huffing hunter, eyes dark with mockery and condescension, “You found her doll, Daryl. That's what you did. You found a goddamn doll.”
“You don't know what the hell you're talking about—” Daryl growled, but he stopped speaking and froze in his spot when Shane got pulled back by his shoulders and got himself thrown into the ground.
“Can't you get a hint, fuckface?” You asked with a monotonous voice while pressing the sole of your boot against his throat.
Everyone blinked, too startled to speak. Then, they turned to look at Glenn and T-Dog who were supposed to be holding you back from attacking Shane further, but they found the two of them laying on the ground, too. Both of them are groaning with their hands hovering above their abdomen.
“Get off me!” Shane screamed, his hand snapping up to grip your ankle. “You left the group’s campsite this morning, but now you're here slugging people around like you didn't leave?!”
Hearing Shane's scream caused Rick to snap out of his surprise and rush towards you to pull you away from his best friend. Your eyebrow twitched at Shane's words and couldn't stop yourself from putting more pressure onto the foot that is pressing against his esophagus.
He let out a choked cough, the sound giving you satisfaction. You forced more pressure onto his throat, hoping that it would make him pass out, but before you could actually strangle the guy, a hand wrapped around your wrist and pulled you away.
“(Last name)!” Rick hissed softly, the underlying concern in his voice simmering you out of your anger.
He placed both of his hands on your arms and started shaking you out of your crazy wits, his grip tight, but loose enough to not hurt you, “You don't go around punching people in the face! You don't go around hauling people off their feet either!”
You could feel the disappointment and panic dripping from his voice, but you can't find it in yourself to care.
You were already annoyed at the fact that Glenn and T-Dog managed to convince you to help them with the issue regarding the barn. You were already upset at yourself for giving a fuck about what will happen.
You were already irritated at yourself, then you spotted Shane pacing around Rick and saying those words, screaming and talking down on his best friend— you just remembered seeing red before you snapped back to reality and watched your hand land a punch in Shane's face.
You hated his guts in the show, even more so when he acted like he can do whatever he wants when Rick got unofficially appointed as the group's leader once they step foot in the farm. So now that you're actually here, living in the same world as them and breathing the same air.
Oh, you'll be damned if he thinks he can do whatever he wants and say shits to Rick.
Previous chapter, next chapter.
In the world of TWD, 033.
Summary:
You woke up in the world of TWD, and you fought so hard to not change the plot of the show, to not get too close— afraid that you'll end up with more losses than not. However, the more time you spend with them, interact with them, laugh and smile with them.. You realize that you're slowly getting attached to every single one of them.
Still, you try not to socialize much, because you don't want to get hurt when a character dies. But.. People is real stubborn.
When Lori stopped crying, you gently guided her back to the tent and motioned her to take a seat.
You grabbed your bag from the table outside and walked back to the tent. You placed it on the table in front of her. She did nothing, but stare at it. You plopped yourself beside the woman, hoping that your presence is enough to ease her worries about what happened.
The silence in the tent is loud, and you don't want to break it by saying nonsensical things. Thankfully, after what seemed like forever, Glenn walked over and came to your rescue.
“Are you guys alright?” Lori croaked out, sniffling. “How.. How bad was it?”
Glenn looked over to your direction, his gaze puzzled and confused. Didn't you say that you're going to tell Lori what happened? Why didn't you tell her about what went down in that store? Why is she asking him about the details?
You could feel Glenn's eyes on you, so you turned your head to look at him, your gaze flickering to meet his.
You only told Lori about Maggie's close encounter and not about yours. She probably could stomach the thought of someone getting a close call if that very person isn't part of the group. And it's probably just a sense, or a delusion, but a part of you felt a sense of dread when you were about to tell her about your close call.
Your tongue tied and your words stumbled out incomprehensibly. It caused Lori to cease her crying and stopped functioning. Unable to think of what to do, you lead the woman back inside of her tent.
Which brought to this situation.
“It— it was pretty close.” Glenn answered, stepping inside of the tent and throwing a look at your direction once more.
“I'm so sorry.” Lori apologized again, her tears gathering at the corner of her eyes. “I should never have asked you to go. If I didn't, then Maggie probably wouldn't her close encounte—”
“I offered.” Glenn stated, putting an emphasis on his words.
“I thought the town was safe, but if you hadn't come back..” Lori mumbled, ignoring what the asian man had said, her mind spiraling to the worst case scenario.
“But we did.” Glenn insisted, stepping forward. “I always do— she always does..”
He gestured towards you, voice firm and determined, making Lori blinked out of her stupor. She looked away from Glenn to cast a glance on your form, causing her muscles to relax.
The assurance of the asian man worked wonders on her, but not because she believed he was exceptionally capable— oh, no, she knows that he is capable, but it wasn't because of that. It was due to the fact that he offered more assurance than you did.
“The morning-after pills.” Glenn voiced out after a moment, eyes trained on the said pills that were in Lori's tight grip. “Will they work?”
Silence filled the tent, and you swear you could hear pin drop from somewhere behind you. There's no guarantee if the pill will work. Lori knew that, so she told him the truth.
“I don't know.” She answered, staring down at the pills with uncertainty, her voice cracking slightly, “And I don't know if I want them to.. To work, you know? I— I really don't know if I want to do it or not.. I'm— I’m torn apart.”
Glenn's gaze flickered to you, his eyes screaming for help. You returned his gaze and shrugged your shoulders, standing up from your seat. His face fell, but he didn't force you to help. Instead, he started fidgeting with the wrapped item in his hands.
“If you're really not sure.. I, uhm, got these, too.” Glenn mumbled and placed the prenatal vitamins on the table.
The corner of your lips twitched as you walked over to the entrance of the tent and walked out. You didn't leave the two of them alone though. Not yet. You just looked around the area, sweeping your gaze for anyone who could possibly be in earshot.
You don't want anyone to find out that Lori is carrying little Shane inside her and is in the middle of deciding whether she should abort the baby or not.
So, you stood guard.
“Lori.. We're friends, aren't we?” Glenn asked quietly, making you let out a breathy laugh under your breath.
“With everything we've been through? Yeah.”
Glenn paused and you knew he was choosing the right words to say to her. He has always been that kind of person who doesn't want to hurt anyone, intentionally or not, especially when it was concerning the people he cared about the most. So when he started speaking again, you knew that he meant incredibly well.
“I can't.. Tell you what to do.” He started off, his voice dripping with reluctance with his eyes flickering to the morning pills on the table, “God, I could never tell you something like that. I mean, I'm not a woman to be saying something about that.. But your choice, whatever it is.. Maybe you shouldn't make it alone, and seriously, whatever it will be.. I hope you won't look back and regret it.”
The words were chosen well, and you knew that Lori thought so, too, because she sniffled and laughed quietly. You could hear her muttering yeah, yeah, I'll think about it, inside before Glenn exited the tent.
I love him for saying something meaningful like that. You mused in your mind, your heart swelling with warmth.
“Come with me to the house?” Glenn asked, head swivelling to look at you as he stopped beside you, “Maggie.. She, uhm, she said she wanted to talk to you after what happened. Do you mind?”
Your gaze darted to the asian man, your lips parting to answer.
However, as soon as you did, your ears caught the sound of a car slowly parking somewhere nearby your spot. You looked over, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, only to see Andrea and Shane coming out of the said car.
Right. You completely forgot to keep an eye out on Shane. After what happened with Otis, after doing the final transfusion of blood.. Things just happened, and you have forgotten about him altogether. Your path and his path doesn't seem to collide as often as you wish. You wished you could have done more, because the thought of letting a murderer walk around the farm unsupervised left you feeling disappointed in yourself.
“Tell her I'll be there.” You told Glenn, your eyes glued to the cop who stopped in front of Dale as Carol and Andrea walked to the RV, leaving the two men alone. “I have to keep an eye out for a rabid animal for now.”
“Rabid animal?” Glenn blinked, his shoulders tensing. “What do you mean?”
You didn't answer Glenn. You just kept your eyes glued to Shane's back as he whispered something to Dale that caused the old man to house a horrified look on his face. The bad cop leaned closer, stepping a foot forward, and said a few more words to the old man before he backed away.
He spun around, eyes immediately flickering to meet yours. At that moment, you don't know what kind of expression you have on your face. You could only stare at him, feeling resentment boiling over your entire being.
Shane held your gaze for a moment before the corner of his lips twitched upwards. The sight caused you to scowl, and only then did he walk away.
The sheriff knew that you knew something.
He fucking knows, so he's letting you know that he knows.
I fucking hate him. You growled in your mind, shoulders tensing as you turned away. How can you forget that a madman like him is walking free? How can you let him do as he pleases while you're frolicking somewhere instead of keeping an eye on him?
You feel so upset with yourself. You're extremely sure that you can't control your expression right now, but to hell with controlling your expression.
The man beside you could sense the disappointment rolling off you as you strode towards the house, his eyes shifting from your retreating back to look at Shane, then back to you, before he finally forced himself to run after you.
“Hey, everything alright?” The korean man asked, falling into step beside you. “You look like you're on your way to cause destruction.”
“True that.” You answered, voice strained.
“What?”
You ignored Glenn and kept walking towards the house. When you walked inside, Beth and Patricia spotted you. Patricia simply glanced at you before going back to what she was doing while the youngest Greene brightened up and pattered towards you, her lips curled into a charming smile.
“Hi, (last name). If you're not busy, can I talk to you?” The teenager asked, making you stop in your tracks and look at her.
“Is it urgent?” You shot back, your eyes sweeping past the girl to look for Maggie.
Glenn said that Maggie wanted to talk to you about what happened in town, but the woman is nowhere to be found. Where could she be? She should be somewhere in the living room or kitchen, right? That’s where you often spot her when Carl is still bedridden.
“Uhm, yes..?” Beth answered, looking a little unsure now upon noticing that you didn't seem to be in a good mood.
“Okay, but where's your sister? Have you seen her?” You inquired further, raising an eyebrow and forcing your attention back to Beth, “I was told that she's looking for me. I'll talk to you first though, then I'll go to her after.”
The young lady flashed you a thankful smile, then she pointed towards the staircase. “She's in her room. She ran inside after she came back to town.”
“Thank you.” You uttered, eyes shifting to the staircase.
“You're welcome!” Beth gleamed at you, her hand wrapping around your wrist. “Anyway! About what I wanted to talk to you about. Can we go somewhere else? I don't think I'm comfortable saying it here..”
As she said those words, she discreetly sent a look over her shoulder to where Patricia is. You followed her line of sight and saw the older woman busy chopping vegetables on the kitchen counter. You blinked, but you understood what the young lady was trying to say to you.
“Alright, lead the way.” You mumbled, causing the youngest Greene to scramble out of the house.
She dragged you towards the tree line on the farmhouse's right side, far from the barn, far from the well that a walker had fallen into, far from everyone— leaving just the two of you alone as she stopped in her tracks and turned back to look at you.
“Daddy told me and Maggie to stay away from your group, but out of all of you, you're the only friendly looking one except for Carol, Glenn, and Lori.” Beth rambled, her hands squeezing yours to pull closer to her, her face a little too close for comfort, making you lean your head back as far as you could to space between you two.
“And?” You urged her, eyebrows furrowing.
“Well, I wanted to know if you could teach me how to handle a knife! I saw you throw one the other day and you were awesome!” Beth exclaimed, her eyes practically sparkling as her smile broadened, “Unlike Carol and Lori, you didn't have to learn how to handle a gun! It's because you already know how to shoot, right?”
“Yeah..?” You answered, hesitance dripping from your voice.
You don't know what Beth will get from fussing over your skills like this, but you can't exactly just walk away when you told her earlier that you'll listen to her.
“I've seen you handle your machete, too. Daddy asked me to not approach you, but how can I not? Maggie approaches Glenn, Jimmy approaches Rick, Patria approaches Carol and Lori, so I'm left behind. I want to learn from someone, too. It's unfair.” She huffed, her eyebrows creasing as she loosened her grip on your hands. “They're still treating me like a kid. It's.. It's not a good feeling.”
You hummed, eyes flickering down to your hands that are in her grasps. “So in short, you want to rebel against your father?”
She flinched. “Rebel? No.. No, of course not. I just wanted to learn, too..”
“But he's telling you not to.” You reminded her, the corner of your lips quirking up into a small smile as you raised an eyebrow, “That's the same thing as disobeying his order and rebelling against him. Besides.. Why would he consider me as a threat anyway? He was all up about my business just the other day.”
Beth pursed her lips and let go of you. Her hands found her arms, her fingers caressing her skin. “Well, Daddy said that people from outside aren't to be trusted, but I know I can trust you.. Maggie does, so I can, too, right?”
She turned to look at you, the worry etched on her face evident. “Right?”
“Would you be asking me to teach you how to handle a damn knife if you can’t?” You shot back, fighting off the urge to roll your eyes at her.
“.. No.” She murmured, relief slowly emerging in her face.
“Well, you have your answer.” You huffed out, prying your hands away from your grasps, “Anyway, you wanted to learn how to handle a knife? I’m not an expert, but I can tell you a thing or two. Just don’t expect a lot from me.”
Beth pursed her lips into a tight-lipped smile. What did you mean that you’re not an expert with knives? You looked like you were in your elements when she spotted you swinging your knife earlier today. You might have not seen her, nor spotted her in the corner of your eyes, but that was probably because you were too caught up in gathering sticks and branches.
She even saw you climb a tree without breaking a sweat, and she knew she should have tattled on you for putting a strain on your body when you have just got off the bed after being bedridden all night. She knew she should have told Heshel about what you did, she knew— but deep down, she was too awestruck to do so. You looked so free and relaxed while you were out gathering those twigs and sticks. How could she tell her father about what you did when that was the most relaxed she had seen of you?
There’s no way in heaven she would tell a soul about your escapades. In fact, she decided to use it to her advantage.
Previous chapter, next chapter.
In the world of TWD, 032.
Summary:
You woke up in the world of TWD, and you fought so hard to not change the plot of the show, to not get too close— afraid that you'll end up with more losses than not. However, the more time you spend with them, interact with them, laugh and smile with them.. You realize that you're slowly getting attached to every single one of them.
Still, you try not to socialize much, because you don't want to get hurt when a character dies. But.. People is real stubborn.
“You didn't have to come.” Glenn uttered, his eyes sweeping towards the beautiful woman who is sitting on top of a horse that is galloping beside him. “You could hate me from a distance.”
Maggie kept her mouth shut, obviously still mad at the fact Glenn couldn't keep his lips sealed about the barn.
“Please say something.” Glenn begged, but he only received the same silence that settled between him and Maggie the moment they left the farm.
“You're not making this any better for you, man.” You mumbled, feeling a little stiff from trying to not lean too much onto Glenn's back. “The woman obviously didn't want to talk to you, but wanted to be within your radius. Leave her be for now and keep your mouth shut.”
The asian man tensed up at your words and couldn't help, but wondered if all women are like that.
Is it normal for women to be mad, but still want to be in their partner's space? It's not like him and Maggie are dating, but still.. Are all women like that?
His mind wandered to you. You're not as difficult as Maggie and Lori. You're far from difficult— well, not really far from difficult, but it's slightly different. You communicate what you have in mind, whether threatening to land a punch on someone's stomach, putting your blade in someone's head, giving them a warning, or letting them know that you're against their decisions in life.
Either way, you always speak what's on your mind, especially if it's concerning anyone's safety in the group.
The way towards the town's pharmacy is filled with nothing, but silence along with the sound of the horses’ shoes clacking against the pavement.
Glenn didn't bother starting another begging session until the three of you spotted the store. He inhaled sharply, eyes glossing slightly as he glanced at the woman beside him. He gathered enough courage to speak, his heart hammering inside his chest.
“Maggie—” He murmured, but got cut off when Maggie turned to him.
“I asked for your trust and you betrayed it.” The woman spat out, her eyes narrowing further into a menacing glare. “And now, my dad is pissed at me.”
Glenn didn't know what to say to that, but Maggie gave him the green signal to speak.
“Your turn.” The oldest Greene huffed out.
“So..” Glenn started, trailing off slowly to choose his words carefully. “Your dad thinks they're sick? You agree with that? Even after what you saw at the well?”
“I'm not sure what I saw at the well.” Maggie snapped, clearly still pissed off about everything.
“Yes, you are.” Glenn insisted, pulling the reins off the horse to make it stop walking, halting it in its tracks right in front of the pharmacy.
Slowly, he got off the mammal, sliding his legs off and landing on the ground with a shuffle. He turned to you and helped you get down as well, making sure that you're planted firmly on the pavement before he looked back at Maggie and started talking again.
“Look, if you had seen Atlanta, you would not have a barn full of walkers—”
“I wish you would stop calling them that.” Maggie hissed.
The tension between them was enough for you to leave the quarreling couple outside.
Why did I even bother to come? I already knew they're going to fight like this. You thought, raising a hand to rub the back of your neck sheepishly.
You walked inside the building and closed the door of the store behind you. You trudged your way slowly along the almost empty aisles to look for something that could help Rick's group a little.
You took the backpack off your shoulders and walked over to the aisle where the mechanical tools are located. Your eyes landed on a hammer not too high from your spot and you knew immediately that you wanted to get that shining tool for yourself— to add it to the collection of weapons that are hanging on your makeshift holster.
You have a machete, not a big one, but still a machete. Aside from your dearest machete.. You have a kitchen knife, a small spare knife, another spare, and nothing else.
You had a gun with you when you left Atlanta, but you left it in Rick's hands since Hershel had a rule about carrying no firearms in his land, because unlike someone, you would rather follow the rules to ensure your safety and not act like a rabid animal.
You let out a huff, eyes glued to the hammer above. The door to the store creaked open, snapping you out of your trance and making you look over to who walked inside.
Your gaze clashed with Glenn's, and he threw you a single nod of shame before he walked past you to start rummaging through the empty aisles on his left. He pulled out the piece of paper Lori gave him, his fingers fumbling with it.
Following behind him, Maggie huffed, the same look of agitation clear on her face, as she glared at him, “What does she want now?”
Glenn paused and sighed, looking down on the list in his hand, “I can't say.”
You're so fucked, Glenn. You sang in your mind, a small twitch of a smile creeping into your lips as you crouched down to get a screw driver off the bottom shelf and shoved it hastily inside your bag.
You're not the type to eavesdrop on people arguing, but lately, you keep finding yourself in the middle of one, like Lori and Rick for example. The two of them had a knack of finding where you are at the moment before they decided to enter a heated argument, leaving you wishing for them to leave you alone or get it over with.
You're sure that it will happen with Maggie and Glenn, too, and as if on cue, you heard Maggie stop walking and you're sure as fuck that she turn back to Glenn.
“So, when one of them asks you to keep your shut—” She hissed and started stalking towards the asian man, but she stopped talking when Glenn held out the list to her with a defeated look on his face.
“Crawl out of my butt and help look.” Glenn mumbled, resignation lacing his voice. “Please.”
Silence filled the space and you took that as a sign to walk deeper into the store. Your gaze swept along the aisles to look for what Rick's group would actually need. You're there to help them, so you need to look for something that will help them and not just think about yourself.
Sure, they need quiet weapons to protect themselves, but they need medicines and food, too.
You spotted Maggie rounding the counter to get to the pharmacy and you found yourself following behind her. She gave you a look when she saw you, but she didn't say a single thing.
You pursed your lips and decided to leave her alone for a bit, but still made sure that she's in your line of sight.
You don't remember about what happened in detail, but you know that Maggie will be attacked in the pharmacy based on what was shown in season 2. After that attack, Maggie will storm her way towards Lori and lash out on her, throwing all the things that she secretly asked onto the ground.
You didn't like what Maggie did at the time, but you knew where she was coming from.
“No— no!” Maggie cried out, sobbing loudly and causing you to whip your head back to look at her. “No! Oh, god! Glenn! (Last name)! No! Help! Get it off me!”
“Maggie!” You hissed, dropping your bag to the floor and snatching the machete in your holster as you ran to her.
“Maggie!” Glenn exclaimed, also rushing to her.
You were closer to the crying woman and the moaning walker, so you were able to chop the undead’s hands from its arms and force it to let go of Maggie. Your heartbeat echoed in your ears and you didn't bother asking Maggie if she was alright before you lunged forward towards the walker.
You raised your arm in the air and swung your machete into a vertical arc, bringing it down to its head and digging your blade into its skull. Blood spluttered out of the walker’s head as it immediately dropped down on the floor with a thud.
“Did it get you?” Glenn asked frantically, his voice shaking as much as Maggie's voice was shaking. “Did it bite you?”
Your nose scrunched up in disgust as you pulled your machete out of its head, the blood spluttered out wildly and some of it splattered against your clothing. You groaned, turning your head away and huffing out in annoyance.
You could hear Maggie crying and sobbing, her whimpers muffled against Glenn's shoulder.
You looked over to the two of them, concern erupting from the bottom of your stomach. She was shaking and she looked unstable— which is understandable, given the situation she was just in. Maggie is a little fragile in season two, because even if she doesn’t agree with Hershel's belief, she still hasn’t experienced being at death's open doorstep.
You let out a sigh and teared your gaze away from the couple, your hand dropping your machete on top of the pharmacy counter to lean into it.
“(Last name)!” Came a terrified shriek from Maggie.
You jolted in your spot and looked at her, a little confused as to what she could be screaming about. However, your wonderment got answered when a pair of grubby, grey hands latched onto your shoulder. You got tugged to the side and you immediately felt your pulse spiked up. The sound of the groans of the walker that grabbed you reached your ears, and you were so startled out of your skin that you didn't react in time.
“No! (Last name)—” Maggie screamed, her eyes widening in horror as the walker dragged you down to the floor.
Glenn quickly pushed her away and turned around, the sound of you grunts and groans catching his attention. He barely processed what was happening before he lunged forward to grab your machete from the counter, his hands clammy and sweaty from fear of witnessing you wrestling against the walker on the pharmacy floor.
You were thrashing, kicking, and it was obvious that you’re trying your hardest on pushing off the hungry corpse above you, but you didn't cry, didn't scream, and didn't sobbed.
You were incredibly focused on getting the thing off you.
It’s not clear on your face, but you’re scared shitless. The image of Dale being ripped apart by a walker flashing in your mind. You don't want to end up like him, you don’t want to die being ripped open by a walker, so you keep wrestling and pushing it off you, but the walker is bigger than you— heavier than you.
You inhaled sharply, sweaty palms barely powering the walker away from taking a bite out of your neck. Its hands aren’t moving, which is a relief, but god, you still can’t do shit.
Thwack.
All of a sudden, the walker stopped and dropped on top of you. Your wide eyes stared at the ceiling of the pharmacy, your breathing ragged and loud as you panted heavily.
“(Last name)!” Came a worried shout of Glenn before the dead walker got pulled off you.
You could simply lay there and stare at him as he kneeled beside you, his sweat covered face appearing in your life of sight. Your heartbeats are loud against your ears. You have always known that Glenn is incredibly capable, but damn, he proved to you first hand how quick he is on his feet.
“Are you okay? Did it get you? Glenn breathed out, hands wrapping around your arm as he readied himself to pull you up.
Maggie quickly came into view and she helped Glenn pull you off the floor. You opened your mouth to respond to Glenn’s questions, but no words came out. The two of them looked both terrified and relieved when they saw you struggling to answer, and didn’t waste time wrapping their arms around you.
“Oh god.” Maggie sobbed uncontrollably, her arms tightening around you as she cried into your shoulder. “You— You almost died! And I— I thought you were going to die.”
Maggie was wailing and Glenn was tearing up, trembling hardly as he hugged you tightly.
You don't know what to feel. You could only stand there and stare at the pharmacy’s door blankly. You barely managed to get out of that walker's snapping jaw and was struggling while doing so. Who knew what would have happened if it weren't for Glenn digging the machete into its skull.
Would you have met your end right on that floor? Would you have been a feast for the walker? Would more walkers come and take bites off you because they heard your cries? The questions are endless, but the embrace of two terrified people before you brought you out of your stupor. They were shaking in their shoes, crying quietly into your shoulders to console themselves, to convince them that you’re alright.
Your heart throbbed.
“I'm fine.” You assured them, your own arms wrapping around the two of them to make them stop trembling. “I'm fine. I'm not hurt. I'm not bitten— I'm.. I'm not dead.”
Despite you whispering the words to their ears, assuring them and comforting them— you still found yourself convincing yourself, your own hands shaking with fear as you carded your fingers through their dark locks.
They clung to you like children clinging to their mother for comfort, sniffling and whimpering. You couldn't find it in your heart to push them away, to separate yourself from their warm embrace. So, you didn't and just let them hug you tightly until you're having trouble breathing.
Even when you were having trouble breathing, you still didn't say anything.
It was Maggie who broke the hug first, her eyebrows creased deeply into a scowl as she turned and gathered everything that was listed on Lori's list with an obvious anger and aggression.
She threw everything in the basket, the sound of bottles of lotion, boxes of pills, and plastic of medication cluttering on the bottom echoing in the store.
Oh, no. You felt your body go rigid at the sight.
Glenn separated himself from you a minute after Maggie started gathering the supplies, his hands squeezing your hips where he had rested them while he was tearing up in your shoulder, and pulled away from you completely.
He walked out of the pharmacy area and started gathering the supplies he needed to get from the other sections, his mind occupied at the thought of finishing this run.
“Hey!” Maggie screamed for Lori, making the expecting woman stop working on the laundry. “We got your stuff!”
“Maggie!” You called, rushing to get past the gate that she closed on you so you wouldn't be able to get to Lori before she did. “Maggie! Don't you dare—”
“Maggie, hang on, please!” Glenn begged and is in the same state as you.
“We got your special delivery right here!” Maggie exclaimed, rummaging through the content inside of the paper bag she was using to carry them and stopped in front of Lori, “We got your lotion, got your conditioner, you soap opera digest!”
She threw all the things she mentioned on the ground, causing your throat to close in and inhale sharply.
“Maggie—” Lori breathed out, looking panicked.
“Next time you want something, get it your damn self.” The woman hissed, leaning close to glare at Lori. “We're not your errand boys!”
“Honey, I—” Lori stuttered, but she stopped when Maggie bent down and snatched something on the ground.
“And here's your abortion pills!” Maggie growled, throwing it on the ground again and casting one more glare at Lori's way before she turned around, bumping her shoulder against Glenn's shoulder as she stormed off.
Glenn was speechless and all he could do was stare at the items on the ground, his mind a mess.
“Go after her.” You whispered to Glenn, squeezing his arm reassuringly before pushing him towards the direction where Maggie stormed off, “Don't worry. I got Lori. I'll take care of her and explain the situation.”
Glenn's eyes flickered up to look at you. You smiled, hoping it would encourage him to go after Maggie. It did, only a little, but he nodded his head and walked away.
You watched Glenn's silhouette slowly get smaller as he followed after Maggie, and once he was far enough, you teared your gaze away and turned back to look at Lori. You picked the items off the ground and pushed them inside of your backpack, hoping that it would give her a sense of privacy after what happened.
“Sorry about that.” You apologized, laughing nervously. “Maggie had a close encounter with the grim reaper today.”
“What? Oh my god—” Lori inhaled sharply, her eyes snapping up to meet yours in panic.
She brought her hand up and covered her face, her eyes becoming glossy with tears, “I'm so sorry— I, I, I didn't mean to put you in danger—”
“Shh, shh, it's okay.” You hushed her, dropping the bag to the ground to awkwardly wrap your hand around hers and pull her into a hug. “No one knew it would happen, okay? Don't blame yourself.”
Previous chapter, next chapter.
NOTE: I'll appreciate it big time if I get feedbacks from the casts' characterization! It would help me a lot with future chapters!
In the world of TWD, 031.
Summary:
You woke up in the world of TWD, and you fought so hard to not change the plot of the show, to not get too close— afraid that you'll end up with more losses than not. However, the more time you spend with them, interact with them, laugh and smile with them.. You realize that you're slowly getting attached to every single one of them.
Still, you try not to socialize much, because you don't want to get hurt when a character dies. But.. People is real stubborn.
“There's walkers in the barn and—” Dale inhaled sharply, choking on his own spit. “.. And Lori's pregnant?”
The old man's face was pale, a ridiculous sight amidst the chaos running in your head. The look on Dale's face pulled a snort out of you, causing the old man and the asian man to whisk their head to look at you.
“You think this is funny?” Dale asked, voice cracking.
“No.” You disagreed, shrugging your shoulders as you shifted your weight to your other foot. “It's just that the look on your face is priceless.”
Dale scoffed, but it sounded more like a choke. “We don't have time to laugh about the look on my face. There's walkers in the barn! Son said so, didn't he? And Lori— she's pregnant! Does Rick even know about this? About the barn? The baby?”
“Lori doesn't plan on saying anything to him anytime soon.” You answered, causing Glenn to nod his head in agreement.
“She put me in a difficult spot when I found out.” The asian man mumbled, his hands wiping themselves subconsciously in his pants to get rid of the sweat gathered there. “Then I learned that she hasn't told her husband yet. Really put me in the spot.”
Dale stared at Glenn, eyebrows furrowing deeply, pitying the poor boy, then he looked at you, sizing you up and down. A part of him felt extremely happy because you're finally socializing and opening up to him after all the hardships all of you went through. He thought that you’ll forever close your doors to them, but you took him by surprise when he saw you walking up to him with Glenn. It's a huge step— a big difference from what you were like days ago.
If he were to tell the past Dale that you're standing in front of him right now, saying what you have in your mind regarding Lori's situation and the farm's dark secret, the past Dale wouldn't believe the words spouted towards him.
So he felt delighted.
However, a part of him felt conflicted that you're only coming to him just now when you have been aware of such pressing matters for who knows how long.
How come you and Glenn hid the fact that Lori is pregnant? And why didn't you two say anything about the barn?
You could read those exact words from looking at Dale's eyes alone. The old man was staring at you so hard that it felt like he was transferring his thoughts to you telepathically. Is that even possible though? You know it's not possible, but he made it seem possible.
“For the record, I didn't want to say anything until Glenn made up his mind. It's not my business to poke my nose into.” You uttered, raising your hands in a surrendering manner to keep the old man from staring down at you with his enlarged eyes. “Let’s just all be happy and relieved that we finally got this out of the bag, okay?”
Dale didn't let up, keeping his gaze at you, though his eyes shrunk back to their normal size. Glenn let out a sigh of relief upon witnessing that.
Then, Dale shifted his attention to the young man before him, making Glenn stiff and stare back. The two men had a stare down, and you found yourself shuffling in your feet from the tense silence. You don't want to stay with whatever's happening so you quickly excuse yourself.
“Gonna walk around.” You informed them, quickly pivoting in your heels to get away.
“Wait—” Glenn called after you, but you were already walking towards the RV, gait quick and with a sense of urgency.
You're not going to walk around. You just needed to change out of your clothes. You feel dirty and rugged. You slept in one of the rooms inside the farmhouse last night so you're sure that Patrica and Beth are probably grimacing at how much you sullied the white bed sheets and pillowcase with dirt and grimes you had on you.
You rolled down the hill yesterday and caught all kinds of dirt in your body. You’re sure that is the reason why Andrea thought you were a walker, and it also didn’t help that Daryl kept staggering like a walker.
“I'll have to apologize to Beth and Patricia.” You took note, stepping inside the RV and looking around the vehicle.
Carol probably had taken your bag from her cherokee when the two of you talked yesterday. Who’s to say that she didn’t? She looked so excited to finally get to touch your things and wash your dirty clothes for you after all.
Taking a look at the passenger seat, you spotted your bag on top of it. You reached out and grabbed the bag, then you turned around and stepped out of the vehicle. You threw the bag over your shoulder, feeling eager to get out of your dirty clothes and shimmy into the clean ones inside your bag.
You turned to your right and walked to the house, but a yelp escaped your mouth when you bumped into someone's chest— hard and warm against your face. You quickly stepped back, with your free hand pushing the person away from you.
“It's awful weird for ya to not be aware of yer surroundings.” Daryl grunted out, his gaze flickering to your hand that was pressed firmly on his abdomen.
“Goodness, Dixon.” You breathed out, the relief in your eyes evident as you glared at him. “What's your problem, man? You making it a habit to sneak up on people when they're on their way to clean themselves or something?”
Daryl glared back, “Did the bullet go through yer head for ya to not be aware of yer surroundin’?”
“Please leave me alone.” You stated, putting enough strength into your hand to push him aside as gently as possible, then you walked past him, muttering words under your breath, “Don't need people to be in my business when I already have a lot to think about.”
“Well, ain't ya a peach?” Daryl grunted, his back bumping gently against the RV's wall.
“Go do something that won't put a strain on your body!” You called over your shoulder, hoping that it would keep the redneck off your back, but as soon as you said those words, you heard footsteps following behind you.
“Seriously, you need rest.” You grumbled, forcing your legs to go faster so you could outwalk the still injured man.
Unfortunately, the footsteps didn't falter and only quickened.
“Can't you leave me alone?” You asked, shooting an impassive look at the archer who fell into step beside you. “Didn't Hershel or Maggie tell you to keep your movements as minimal as possible? Please stop being hardheaded and rest.”
“Ain't that what the doc said to ya?” Daryl shot back, eyes squinted into a glare.
Seriously? You decided to be social today, because you don't want to cause more damage to your body, and socializing seemed harmless enough. However, you let your guard down for a good while and now, people think that your change in behavior is something that should be pushed to the limits?
You asked Daryl politely, and quite softly, to leave you alone, but the man wouldn't stop trailing behind you as you walked towards the house. To make matters worse, he's prodding you about what Hershel told you?
Still, you tried to be curt about it.
“Hershel didn't say anything.” You mumbled, ascending the porch's stairs. “In fact, no one told me anything.”
“So ya say lies now, too?” Daryl snorted, voice gruff with mockery.
Your shoulders grew tense and you couldn’t stop yourself from whipping your head around and rushing down the steps to get into his face, because you don't know why, but those words triggered something inside you.
The moment you descended the porch steps, the archer instantly took a step back to put some distance between you two, looking startled and putting more pressure into his hand that was pressing softly against the wound on his side, the sight alone caused your annoyance to flare down a little, but it was still there.
“Look, I don't know what's your problem with me, but I don't appreciate you putting your nose in my business.” You hissed softly, your eyes narrowing towards him.
“Don't got no problem.” The archer grunted out, forcing his gaze away from your eyes.
“Then leave me be.” You stated, shooting him one last glance before you turned around and stomped your way back inside the house.
By the time the group came back from their shooting practice, you already took a bath and freshened up.
You changed out of your dirty clothes into a fitted, plain black long sleeve shirt. It was thin and airy enough, which allows you to move around without restrictions. You're wearing pants that look like the dirty pants that you shimmied out of, the only difference is that it's not covered in dirt and grime.
Rick's jacket is left to air out along with the clothing that hangs around the camp.
After refreshening up, you found Daryl inside his tent, his eyes glued to the book in his hands. You know deep down that he’s not reading a single phrase in that book and just needed a distraction so he wouldn't move much, but he could have made it less obvious.
Glancing at him after you hang Rick’s jacket, your gaze clashed with his, but he quickly looked away. He even went as far as turning his back on you and burying himself on his cot that you have slept on not long ago. You let out a huff, feeling extremely bad for snapping at him earlier. You plan on apologizing, but the man doesn't do well with words.
You’re also not good with words, so the best way you could think of to apologize to him is by giving him something to do to keep his mind off things.
You vaguely remembered Daryl mentioning to someone that he doesn't have to worry about the bolts for his crossbow because he makes them. Since he can't move right now, you're going to be the one to give him the sticks, or branches, he could use to make arrows for his bow.
That's why you set out to find sticks long and thick enough that he can use.
When you're done gathering sticks off not too far from the treeline, you walk over to the camp and drop the said piles of sticks in front of Daryl's tent, making the archer snap his head up from his pillow.
Glenn, who wasn’t too far from your spot, stopped what he was doing when he heard the sound of the drop, making him look over.
“You have your knife, right?” You asked the archer as you crouched down, causing him to slowly sit up and look over to what you have dropped in front of his tent, “Go and keep yourself busy by starting to sharpen these sticks for your crossbow.”
He frowned and scoffed out, “What are ya? My teach’?”
“Just a concerned and apologetic citizen.” You retorted, shooting him a look that caused him to fall back down onto his cot with another scoff, “Look, I didn’t come here to make you angrier at me.”
Your voice was soft and sincere as you pushed the sticks closer to his tent, you pursed your lips and you forced your tongue to move, to say the words you wanted to say as apologetic as you could be, “Just like you, I don't like people up in my business, but I know that doesn't give me the right to be an asshole. I'm sorry. I know this isn't much, but it's the best I have right now.”
Daryl glanced at you, his eyes narrowing just a tad bit, but he didn't say anything.
Actually, he couldn’t say a damn thing. It was weird. He managed to utter something when Andrea stopped by this morning to apologize to him for shooting him and even pulled a joke about the book having no pictures, but you.. You, on the other hand, made it hard for him to respond.
When you received no response from the archer, you forced your eyes up. You caught the twitch at the corner of his mouth. Daryl being Daryl, you know that it's the best you could get from him at the moment.
“If..” You started, trailing off almost immediately.
You don't know what to say except for a string of apologies, but you knew that it would drive him mad if you did, so you opted for an alternative, albeit shakily so, “If you need a hand with something— with anything, really. Just scream and let me know, okay? I'll come running.”
“Mmn.” The archer grunted, a response that made your face brighten with a small smile.
It's the best you could get from him, so you wouldn't push for anything further. You pushed yourself off your feet and stretched, feeling accomplished with your little apology session with the archer. You turned in your heels to look around the camp, then your gaze met Glenn's, making him snap out of his staring and had him scrambling back to work on chopping the firewood.
You snorted and walked over. From the corner of your vision, however, you saw Lori approaching him as well.
You and Lori accidentally looked at each other, quickly causing her to slowly come to a halt in front of you. There was a look in her eyes that told you she had already talked to Dale, and that Dale was successful in persuading the expecting woman.
You nodded in acknowledgement, smiling softly at her.
The sight of the curl of your lips caused Lori to blink, not expecting it. You're not the type to flash a smile to people per se— you were always either scowling, frowning, or didn't have any expression on your face. You would try to help in your own way, but that's about it.
What could have happened? What changed?
Shaking off her curiosity, she smiled back at you, her heart warming up with appreciation at the fact that you're finally opening up to her. Though a part of her wishes that you're only opening up to her, not to Glenn, not to Dale, not to her husband— no one else's in the camp, but she found that thought strange.
You're part of their group. You're bound to slowly open your heart up to them, one way or another. Why would she want to be the one to be on the receiving end when you want to open up? It doesn't make sense.
Seeing that Lori looked like she wanted to say something, Glenn couldn't stop himself from clearing his throat and catching both of your attention. Lori blinked and suddenly remembered why she walked to Glenn's spot in the first place.
She turned to Glenn, an unreadable expression on her face. Glenn took that as a bad sign and scrambled to explain.
“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.” Glenn apologized almost too quickly, causing both you and Lori to stare at him with puzzled expressions, “It just came out. And it was Dale— I couldn't—”
Lori realized what Glenn was apologizing for and assured him, stopping him from speaking further. “It’s okay. I never should have put you in that position. I've been thinking about what you said about needing help.. And you're right that I do.”
As much as you want to listen to Lori say what she wanted to say to Glenn, even if you already know about it being another run to the town for the things she needs, you figured that you're not supposed to be here to listen.
“Ahem.” You faked a cough, cutting Lori off, and making them turn to you, “I don't think this is a conversation you should be having with me around, so I'll just excuse myse—”
“It's fine.” Lori uttered, stepping forward and holding out a hand to block your front to stop you from walking away from the two of them, “I'll feel better if you're here to ensure Glenn is safe.”
“To ensure his safety?” You repeated, playing dumb. “What do you mean?”
“I'm pregnant.” Lori blurted, her voice hushed as she kept her eyes at you. “And Glenn offered to help me. He's the one who goes in and out of towns, and I know he's capable. I truly, wholeheartedly know that, but I would feel more assured that he will come back without being bitten one of these days if you're.. You know, with him?”
“Lori, she's hurt.” Glenn sighed, stepping forward to stop the woman from inviting you to go with him.
Unfortunately, you're real stubborn.
“Absolutely.” You whispered and blinked, feigning a startled expression and hoping against all odds that it was convincing enough to not rouse the suspicion of the woman before you.
“I'll be more than happy to offer my help as well!” You beamed, causing Lori to smile and wrapped her arms around you.
Just like with Carol, you couldn't stop yourself from freezing.
Lori could feel your body stiffening under her embrace, but she kind of figured out that you're not used to physical affection. She brushed it off and squeezed you tight before she pulled away. She had a thankful smile on her face when she did.
Watching the two of you, Glenn knew that he had no say in this anymore. It was clear to him that you already made up your mind, whether he likes it or not.
Lori turned to Glenn, her eyes sending him an apologetic look. “If you're still willing to make a run into town for me—”
“I'm your man.” Glenn chided in, cutting the woman off unintentionally, and gestured towards you who was sending a pointed look on his way. “And she's your woman. We'll go. Whatever you need.”
Lori inhaled sharply and wrapped her arms around Glenn, too, making him return the hug.
“Thank you.” She mumbled, her voice shaking.
“It's okay.” Glenn reassured her, the smile on his face slowly creeping back as Lori pulled away and stepped back. “It's not a big deal, really. I have (last name) to go with me.”
Lori flashed the two of you a small smile before she nodded and walked away, leaving you and Glenn in silence to watch her safely make her way back to the tent she shared with her beloved husband.
After making sure that she's fine, Glenn turned away and looked at you. “So.. We going on a run?”
“Nah, we going on a jog.” You huffed.
“Is that.. A sarcasm?” Glenn mumbled, feeling the corner of his lips twitching as he broke out into a fit of chuckles. “I didn't know you could be sarcastic.”
Previous chapter, next chapter.
In the world of TWD, 030.
Summary:
You woke up in the world of TWD, and you fought so hard to not change the plot of the show, to not get too close— afraid that you'll end up with more losses than not. However, the more time you spend with them, interact with them, laugh and smile with them.. You realize that you're slowly getting attached to every single one of them.
Still, you try not to socialize much, because you don't want to get hurt when a character dies. But.. People is real stubborn.
Morning quickly came, and the moment you opened your eyes, they found Glenn by your side.
He was holding someone's binoculars and was looking out of the window. You raised an eyebrow, following his line of sight. The barn quickly came into view and the sight of it made you raise your eyebrows in confusion before settling your attention at the wooden building.
You vaguely remembered what will happen in the near future. It's one of the impactful scenes in the show that got stuck in your mind.
Oh, right.. Glenn invited Maggie to have sex in the barn and ended up finding out about the walkers. It must have happened last night. You summarized in your mind, propping yourself up on your elbow to take a closer look at the asian man's obvious nervousness while staring at the wooden structure as if you weren't there— wide awake and aware of what he was doing.
He was so occupied with what’s on his mind that he didn’t hear you shuffling on the mattress.
You have always known that Glenn is a terrible liar and can’t keep a secret for the life of him. You even laughed several times at his cannot-lie face, because when he lies and knows something that nobody knows, all you need to do is take a look at his face.
You just didn’t know that it could be this bad.
Staring at the asian man, you waited for a good minute to see if he'll magically know that someone is awake and is staring daggers at him. Maybe he'll grow a strong tingly senses to know that you're awake, but unfortunately, two minutes in, you knew that what you were waiting to see happen is only wishful thinking.
It has already been three minutes. You counted in your mind, but the guy still couldn't feel the stare on the back of his head.
You sighed, the sound quickly reaching his ears.
“Could you be more obvious?” You asked, feeling a little fed up with waiting, and only then did the asian man realize what’s happening.
Glenn flinched and let out a startled yelp before he pulled the binoculars off his face and turned to you, his little eyes widening in shock to see you wide awake and propped up on the bed. You could see the gears in his head turning and clocking, probably thinking of the best excuse he could come up with at the moment to let him get away from this situation.
“It's fine.” You assured him, plopping yourself back into the bed with a groan and screwing your eyes shut, “I already know anyway.”
Glenn blinked owlishly, ears straining. “What?”
“I said I already know, man.” You repeated, eyes fluttering open before turning on your side to face him with your eyebrows creasing into a frown. “It's about what's inside that thing, right? The walkers? Yeah, I already know. Don't worry, because unlike someone.. I know how to keep my face neutral.”
You revealed about the barn to him, but revealing that you already know what was inside the barn is a double edge sword.
If luck is on your side, Glenn would brush off the fact that you already know about the walkers and will proceed to ask you what you would do if you're in his shoes. However, if he didn't brush past that, then he would ask you how you know you know and why you didn't tell the group— possibly tattling on your tail and risking revealing that he knew as well.
Hopefully, it's the former.
“You know, too?” Glenn mumbled, walking over and throwing the binoculars on the bed as he placed himself on the mattress beside you. “Then.. What are we supposed to do? Should we tell them?”
Relief flooded your veins. Delighted at the fact that Glenn brushed past about what you said and decided to ask you what to do.
You sat up and shrugged your shoulders, putting a blank face on as you thought about it. Truthfully, you would want to just let the plot flow on its own and give the characters a little push to get through it faster, but that's a little impossible. If there's anyone who needs a push, it would be none other than Glenn and Rick.
The two of them can be stubborn if they wanted after all.
“I don't know.” You answered, scooting yourself at the edge of the bed and throwing your legs over, “I was thinking of going to Dale to ask about it once I get back yesterday, but.. Yeah, shit happens.”
You easily uttered the lie through your teeth. You weren’t sure if he’ll believe that shit, but you crossed your fingers. You looked over to Glenn, and you knew that he brought the story because he snapped back to his feet and looked at you. He had this ridiculous look on his face that made it clear that he had just an epiphany.
It was a funny sight.
You huffed, biting back the laugh that wanted to escape your lips. You planted your feet on the ground and cleared your throat, gaze flickering to look at the asian man who shuffled his weight on his legs.
“I'll walk around.” You told him, walking over to the door and slowly swinging it open, “You do what you have to do, okay?”
You didn't wait for Glenn's response and rushed down the stairs. On your way down, you spotted Hershel sitting by the dining table. The old man stopped what he was doing and looked in your direction, his kind eyes snapping to the bandage wrapped around your head.
“You got Maggie change your gauze?” He asked, turning back to his bible.
“No, but I'd rather not to. It's just a waste to change it.” You mumbled before walking over to the front door and exiting the house in an obvious hurry in your gait, making Hershel shake his head.
You're real stubborn, as they say.
You spotted the group already moving up and about, doing whatever they needed to do for the day. You walked over to the RV, hands slipping into the pocket of your pants, just in time to see Dale exit the vehicle with a glum look on his face, but when he saw you walk over, his eyes instantly brightened up.
“(Last name).” He greeted you, the corner of his eyes wrinkling as he smiled. “Are you okay now? Should you be on your feet and walking?”
“Uh, yeah— yeah, all good. Herschel didn’t stop me when I bumped into him on my way out.” You stuttered, forcing out a nervous laugh from your mouth as your eyes looked past him to glance at the entryway of the RV, “Anyway, have you seen Carol?”
“I'm here.” Came a familiar sweet voice.
You quickly turned around and smiled, the look of your face softening, causing the woman to smile back. Carol wished that you would smile more often, because the look of that warm and soft smile on your lips suits you. You're beautiful enough with your usual blank face, but it wouldn't hurt to light up your expression by smiling every now and then, no?
Despite her desire to say those words, Carol kept her mouth shut and raised her eyebrows expectantly, waiting for you to say what you needed to say.
“Great, I don't have to look for you.” You breathed out, feeling enthusiastic about the fact that you don't have to look and ask around, but then, as the enthusiasm shimmered down into your bones and felt your anxiety spike up.
You don't plan to say much, just a thank you from taking care of you last night and admitting you were wrong for trying to usher them away, but it was hard.
Still, you tried to push through.
“About last night..” You mumbled, slowly saying the words out to give you time to choose the words to tell the sweet woman before you, “I, uhm, thank you.. For.. You know? Taking care of me and making sure I stay in bed. I know I'm hard-headed, but I really appreciate you looking out for me.”
You could hear a chuckle coming from behind you, and you could more or less guess that it came from Dale.
“It's fine.” Carol assured you, catching your attention away from the old man and making you focus on her instead, “I understand that you wanted to help, so the least I could do is offer help of my own and keep an eye out on you.”
You could feel your heart racing in fear for making Carol think lowly of you, but she reached out and brushed her finger on your cheek, causing you to relax a little.
“Let's drop it now, okay?” Carol hummed, her hand dropping down to your side and urging you to follow her inside the RV by wrapping her fingers around your wrist, tugging you towards the vehicle, “Come on, I have to put the earrings on you so we can finally match.”
At her words, you let her tug you forward and enter the RV.
The woman led you to the bed at the back of the vehicle. She let go of your wrist and gestured for you to sit, which you did and sat your ass down on the mattress. She turned away from you for a moment and rummaged through the drawers, making you look around to distract yourself.
Just then, you realized that everything is now spotless and clean.
I almost forgot., Carol cleaned the RV to welcome Sophia back, and to keep her mind off her missing daughter. You thought, biting the inside of your cheek.
You immediately felt your shoulders sag at the thought, with your eyebrows creasing into a frown. Right. Sophia hasn't been found and Carol still hasn't had that assurance that her baby girl is not alive anymore, but she said so herself, not to you, but to Daryl— that a part of her knew that Sophia isn't alive anymore.
Your heart plummeted to your stomach, but it was quickly forgotten when Carol walked back to you with the pair of earrings in her hands.
It's a huggie earrings.
“Here.” Carol hummed, holding out the pair of jewelry towards your way to let you take a look at them. “Do you mind if I put it on you? I've already put on the necklace, but if you want, I can take it off so you can put it on me—”
“No.” You mumbled, cutting her rambling off, “Just.. Just put it on me.”
You turned your head to the right and exposed your left ear to the sweet woman. You didn't have any energy left to keep up the blank face, so you only turned away and gave her the rights to put the jewelry on you.
You heard her let out a laugh, the sound soft and warm, before you felt her finger brush your ear. The physical contact caused your muscles to tense, but the proximity felt good, like it was natural. Carol was extra careful to not hurt you, then she slipped the post through the hole in your ear and clasped it shut.
For a moment, you forgot that you're a character that shouldn't exist, slowly easing the tension off your body to let her put on the earring on you.
You found yourself focusing more on the sensation of Carol putting on the earrings rather than letting yourself get away with your thoughts. The feeling of Carol's gentle caress on your skin making you melt completely, your shoulders sagging and almost quaking at how much you’re trying to stop yourself from chasing her touch.
You're quite clingy, and these people may not know it, but you're touchy and needy.
Back in your reality— where this world was just a show.. You would always ask your little sisters and cousins for a hug whenever you're down. If not, they will be the ones to ask for a hug from you. The cuddle sessions would usually start when one of them just got back from school, or work, and needs to recharge their social battery, and hugging one of you is their way of recharging.
It's funny now that you think about it. You often hear your acquaintances say that they're not that close to their cousins and siblings— that physical contact with them disgusts them, so they find your dynamics weird.
You don't fucking care.
You're not afraid to flaunt how comfortable you are with your little sisters and cousins, and vice versa. All of you have slept on the same bed, shared clothes with each other, seen each other's boobs— except for Lawrence, of course— and changed clothes in each other's presence. Why? Because your family is your safe place.
Sure, Lawrence got the rough end of the stick and had to adjust for you, your little sisters, and his big sister, but he loves being included.
He loves the fact that all four of you feel safe around him and he loves that he doesn't have to worry about acting childish when he's with all of you. With the four of you being girls, he had learned how to treat a lady correctly and how to understand the unforeseen behavior of women around him.
The five of you were inseparable, and remembering that caused you to smile sadly.
“There.” Carol hummed, snapping you out of your thoughts. “The earrings look good on you, honey. I'm so glad you're letting us pair our necklace and earrings when you already have jewelry on you.”
“It's good.” You mumbled, forcing your gaze down on the floor. “Thank you, by the way.. For.. Putting up with me.”
“Putting up with you?” Carol repeated softly, tilting her head and placing her hand on your cheek to make you look at her. “Oh, sweetheart.. No one's putting up with you. To be completely honest, I believe that you are the one who's putting up with all of us.”
“That's not true—”
“I know.” Carol huffed and laughed, cutting you off. “That's why I said I believe it, right? It's because that's what I think and not what you, or anyone else for that matter, think about you, but believe me when I say this.. No one's putting up with you. Why would they? You're an incredible and understanding woman. You've done so much since you arrived and joined us back at the Quarry.”
“Mmn.” You grunted out, tearing your gaze away from Carol.
“Good.” She huffed, leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead and wrapping her arms around you. “You deserve to be acknowledged for the effort you've given this group, along with the length you're willing to go through for my little girl.”
Your body tensed when you felt Carol wrap her arms around you and pull you into a tight hug. She pressed your face firmly into her chest, mumbling the words onto your hair as she kept you in place. The woman's embrace is warm and comforting, like a blanket keeping you warm in the harsh wind of winter.
Slowly, you felt yourself relax in her arms.
“You earned your keep.” She whispered, her voice soft and shaking slightly, causing you to let out a noise of surprise.
You earned your keep.
The woman's words echoed in your mind over and over. It got stuck so hard that even when Carol pulled away and bid you a farewell because she will go to the shooting practice with Shane and others, you were still thinking about it.
The words stuck around so badly that even when you were standing beside Glenn while he was talking to Dale, your mind is still on those four words.
You earned your keep.
Carol said those words to Daryl when he started to pull away from the group, so the fact that she said those same words to you after you got hurt caused your heart to race and eyes sting with tears.
Still, deep down, you can't accept that you earned your keep— especially when everyone hasn't received an assurance of Sophia's whereabouts.
Previous chapter, next chapter.
In the world of TWD, 029.
Summary:
You woke up in the world of TWD, and you fought so hard to not change the plot of the show, to not get too close— afraid that you'll end up with more losses than not. However, the more time you spend with them, interact with them, laugh and smile with them.. You realize that you're slowly getting attached to every single one of them.
Still, you try not to socialize much, because you don't want to get hurt when a character dies. But.. People is real stubborn.
You let out a strained grunt as you pulled Daryl up the cliff, your dominant hand clutching around his tightly.
He has been speaking nonsense since the two of you started climbing, he was cursing out Merle, groaning and throwing a hissy fit, but you knew that he was having hallucinations due to the pain that came from his wound. His head is bleeding, but it wasn't much, though it still made you worried for his wellbeing.
With one last pull, you pulled yourself up the steep cliff.
Fucking finally! You cheered in your mind, panting heavily. However, the joy quickly halted when you felt a tug on your hand, making you remember that you were helping up a stubborn archer.
“Hold on!” You exclaimed, planting the sole of your boots firmly into the ground and pulled Daryl up as hard as you could.
Daryl let out a pained grunt as he helped you pull him up by pushing himself up using his feet, maneuvering himself and kicking his feet on a stubborn curled bark of a tree, using you as an alternative for a rope to finally get up the last climb of the steep cliff.
You inhale sharply, tugging the archer up and letting yourself fall down into your ass to get him up.
Daryl fell on top of you, panting as hard as you.
You could feel his chest heaving up and down against your stomach, his face buried in your chest with no kind of ill intention except for being relieved to finally hauling himself off the cliff.
His arms dropped on either side of your hips, and the two of you laid there for who knows how long, just panting and trying to catch your breaths, with your eyes wide as you stared up at the sky. Then, you felt Daryl turned his head to the side, pressing his cheek against your heaving chest, before he scrambled back up to his feet.
He looked around, eyes unfocused and dilated, as he screamed, “Yeah, ya better run!”
You rolled to your side and forced yourself up, your eyes catching a brief glance on how messy you look right now. You're sure that Daryl looks worse than you, but you can still be mistaken as a walker by Andrea if you're not careful.
“Hold it right there, Dixon.” You called after the archer when he started walking.
“What now?” He growled, stopping in his tracks as he staggered back, turning his head to look at you, the annoyance as clear as day on his face.
You ignored his annoyance and reached for the crossbow that was hanging low on his hips. He was dragging it on the ground by a single teared piece of his shirt. You picked it up and tugged, causing the redneck to stumble towards your way and cuss you out.
“Just what the fuck is yer problem?!” He hissed, shooting daggers at you.
You simply ignored him and slung the crossbow over your shoulder. This is not the first time you had to carry his damn weapon, but he still kept cussing the fuck out of you. You ignored every insult that was hauled your way and only focused on wrapping an arm around his waist, making him lean his weight against you.
“Don't need nobody's help.” He groaned out, panting heavily through his nose as you started leading him through the woods, “Ain't a weak, pathetic wimp.”
You ignored his mindless ramblings and focused more on following your tracks back to the farm.
From an outsider's perspective, they might mistake the two of you as an odd pair of walkers due to how you're both stumbling and staggering like one, and the fact that you two are covered in grime and dirt didn't help as well, because it made the pair of you look like a walking corpse.
Since I helped Daryl, doesn't this mean that Andrea won't raise her goddamn gun and shoot him? You thought, wondering if the woman would somehow stop being a little shit for wanting to prove herself.
She was trying so hard to prove to others that she doesn't need to be on laundry or cooking duty, but those attempts of hers got others in trouble.
You remembered seething whenever she's being a loudmouth, trying to egg Shane on with his fucked up decisions and even riding his dick during that one time in season 2. She just loves sleeping with people who have enough authority to give herself a rush of adrenaline that she badly needs.
Well, you can't really blame her. Pleasure is one of the things that people could use as a gateway from this shitty reality.
You glanced at Daryl, eyes squinting as you shot him a look. He had grown quiet after minutes of cussing you out and uttering incomprehensible words under his breath. He prolly got tired of talking when he realized that you weren't listening. It was good, honestly, but the guy grew heavier as minutes passed by.
“Stop dragging your weight and making this hard for me.” You grunted out, shooting the redneck trudging beside you a menacing glare, causing him to shoot back at you with a glare of his own.
“I didn't ask for yer help!” He growled, only to stagger forward as the two of you broke out of the treeline.
“Stop walking like a goddamn walker!” You hissed, tugging him closer to you and kept advancing forward, but he made it hard and crashed his bodyweight against you, making both of you stagger forward.
“Walk properly, Dixon!” You whispered-yell, your grip on his waist tightening as you tried to find your balance, “You're going to alert everyone and make them think we're walkers—”
Bang.
The sound of the gunshot rang in the air. You tensed up, your gaze flickering forward as you faced the direction where the RV is located. Your eyes widened in fright when you caught sight of others running towards your direction in a hurry.
“It's just us! Tell her to not shoot—” You tried to explain, but a hot searing pain erupted in your head, stopping you from finishing your sentence.
The pain was quick and sudden, and it caused your head to swivel to the side at an alarming speed.
You immediately dropped Daryl's crossbow and let go of his body, your vision swimming and blurring as you staggered backward. Your feet failed to find their balance, causing you to crash into your back, onto the ground, and knock the air out of your lungs.
The pain on your head sting badly, and you wanted to touch the stinging spot, but you couldn't move your hands.
“Is.. Is that Daryl— wait, (last name)?”
You could hear someone speak, the rustling of leaves reaching your ears. You could feel your breathing slowing down, followed by your eyes fluttering shut.
“What are y'all doin’ standin’ there?! She got shot—”
Bang.
The sound of another gunshot rang in the air. You don't know if that second gunshot was pointed at Daryl or someone else, but the sound of it caused you to snap your eyes open, only for the white hot pain to worsen.
“No! No! No!” Rick cried out, the sound of his cries becoming a little disoriented as you slowly lost consciousness.
You felt your body being hauled up, an arm slipping under your legs with another slipping to your back. You could hear the person's racing heartbeat as they pressed you against their chest, their breathing ragged while they panted.
“Her gunshot wound is worse than Daryl's!” Came a frantic cry of your holder, and just then, you realized that it was Rick.
“She's bleeding!” Glenn exclaimed, voice shaking.
No, shit sherlock, Glenn. You grumbled in your mind, eyes already closed, but still finding the energy to sass the asian man's concerns about the obvious.
You could feel Rick panting heavily, his arms tightening around you as he rushed the two of you towards the house.
“Oh my god!” Andrea cried, her voice shaking as she run up to Rick and others, her eyes taking in the sight of your dirty form on the sheriff's arms and Daryl's slumped body between Glenn and Shane.
“Oh my god! She— is she— is he— Are they okay?! Are they dead?!” The woman stammered out, eyes glossing with tears.
“He’s unconscious and she's barely awake.” Rick grunted, fixing his hold on you and forcing you to lean your weight more against body, rolling your head onto his shoulder and slotting your forehead against neck, “You just grazed them.”
“But look at him!” Glenn exclaimed, voice shaking with disgust, “He's wearing ears!”
Rick slowed his pace and looked at what Glenn was pointing at. He raised his leg and dropped your legs on it for a quick moment before he snatched the ears off from Daryl's neck, then he slipped his arm back under your legs and proceeded to carry you bridal style to the farmhouse.
“Let's keep that to ourselves.” The sheriff huffed, picking up his pace to get you faster to the doctor waiting by the hill.
“That stings.” You grumbled, whimpering softly as Maggie dabbed a cotton soaked in alcohol against the bullet wound on your head. “Can't you be more gentle? Can't you see that I'm hurt— ow, ow, ow!”
“Stop moving.” The woman sighed, pulling the cotton away from your face to give you a pointed look.
“It hurts.” You stated quietly, frowning.
“Of course it would hurt.” Rick mumbled, his eyes glued to the bullet wound on your head before moving to the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes. “Your wound is more open than Daryl's.”
“That's just great.” You scoffed, closing your eyes to brace yourself from the stinging pain as Maggie moved closer to you to get back to dabbing.
Rick watched as you flinched and tried to get away from the pain, but Glenn had you pinned on the bed with his hands planted firmly on your side. It didn't feel right to the three of them to hear you cry out in pain, but they can't really knock you out when you have just woken up from your little nap, can they?
“What got you and Daryl in that state in the first place?” Rick asked, hoping that it would distract you from the pain.
He already knows what happened. Daryl told him. The archer woke up first before you did and explained how he found Sophia's doll by the creek.
However, if having to listen to the story again will keep your mind off the pain, then so be it.
“I was planning to cut the grid in half by going in the opposite direction of where he was going, but I found a horse trail on my way there— ow, Maggie!” You whined, cutting yourself off to hiss at the woman who unintentionally pressed a little too hard on your wound.
“Sorry.” Maggie apologized, pulling the cotton away before pressing a clean cloth on your head.
“..Anyway, I followed the track and found Daryl by the cliff, so I quickly went down to see if he's okay. When I'm sure he's fine, I helped him out of there by hauling the two of us up the cliff.” You grunted out, continuing your little story time as you dropped your head onto the pillow.
Glenn pulled his hands off your side when he was completely sure that you wouldn't squirm anymore, then Maggie sent him a grateful look for keeping you pinned down.
“I'll try to go to the other side of Daryl's grid tomorrow.” You mumbled, your eyes fluttering shut.
“You must stay in bed and heal tomorrow.” Maggie interjected, pressing the cloth harder down into the gunshot wound on your head, making you wince in pain. “If you move, you're going to make your state worse than it already is.”
“But—” You opened your mouth to refuse, but you barely got the word out of your mouth when the sound of the door creaking open echoed in the air.
The sound caught your attention, so you stopped yourself from talking and tried to turn your head to look at who entered the room, but Maggie had a firm hold on your head and kept you down on the bed.
“I heard what happened.” Came Carol's worried voice before she came into view.
“Hi, Carol.” You greeted the woman, forcing a smile on your lips as you tried to make the look on your face as blank as possible. “It was just a little accident. There's no need to worry.”
“Little?” Carol repeated, taking a seat beside you. “Andrea shot you.”
“Yeah, well, people make mistakes.” You grumbled, eyebrow twitching in frustration, more pointed to yourself than anyone else, for making a sweet woman like Carol worry intensely over the well-being of nobody like you.
“Don't mind it too much.” You stated, snatching the cloth pressed on your wound from Maggie's grip. “It will heal soon.”
Maggie stared blankly at you, finding your audacity to push her away a little annoying. You're stubborn and don't like attention— she observed that much, but right now, with the way you're trying to brush off everyone's concern towards you.. You're just making them worry more.
Thinking about it, she knew that you wouldn't like that, but you're digging your own grave here.
“Let me put a bandage around your head after the bleeding stops.” Maggie mumbled, causing everyone inside the room to turn their attention to her. “Keep pressing that on your head. Once it stopped, call for me so I can wrap it up.”
“Don't waste bandages on me—”
“I will call for you.” Carol responded to Maggie's words, cutting you off with that sweet voice of hers. “She needs to be looked after for now.”
“Carol's right.” Rick spoke up and stood up from his seat on the corner of the room. “(Last name) needs to be looked after for now. She's real stubborn, so someone needs to stay with her to make sure that she will get the treatment she needs.”
“Carol can go if she wants.” Glenn laughed nervously, rubbing his palms on his pants. “I can look after her in the meantime—”
“We'll switch shifts.” Carol interjected, smiling.
You could only lay there, eyes narrowed and lips pursed, as you listened to Rick, Carol, and Glenn argue half-heartedly on who will be on the first watch.
Slowly and gradually, the thought of you separating yourself from the group vanished in your mind.
Previous chapter, next chapter.
In the world of TWD, 028.
Summary:
You woke up in the world of TWD, and you fought so hard to not change the plot of the show, to not get too close— afraid that you'll end up with more losses than not. However, the more time you spend with them, interact with them, laugh and smile with them.. You realize that you're slowly getting attached to every single one of them.
Still, you try not to socialize much, because you don't want to get hurt when a character dies. But.. People is real stubborn.
“You know, we still have 11 condoms—”
You stopped in your tracks by the door when you heard Glenn say those words. Maggie and Glenn snapped their heads up to look at your direction, their eyes wide in horror. They didn't hear anyone approaching the door, so when you pushed it open and stepped outside, the two of them simultaneously froze.
They stared at you, eyes wide and dilated. You have the same reaction, almost the same— if it weren't for you quickly schooling your expression and forcing it to be blank.
It was hard, but you managed.
“Nice guitar.” You commented, eyes flickering to the instrument in his hand. “Gotta make sure that you have good technique with the strings, right? I suggest practicing to make those 11 minutes of Maggie's life worth it.”
Maggie blinked, shock and embarrassment creeping to her face, but the snort that soon followed after she realized that you were joking was heartwarming.
“You did not.” Maggie giggled, making you shrug.
“Can’t be too sure.” You mumbled, your feet moving to get yourself off the porch and descend the stairs, your head shifting to your right shoulder to give them a heads-up. “I'll be going out for a search. If things get out of hand, just let me know and I'll give Shane a piece of my mind.”
The two of them watched as you slung the machete into the holster in your belt while you're jogging towards the tree line. There's no telling if you were joking, but Maggie decided to play it safe.
“Why would she give Shane a piece of her mind?” Maggie asked, turning to look at the asian man who looked quite pink in the face.
“Huh?” Glenn snapped out of his embarrassment and looked back at Maggie, eyes clouded with thoughts.
“Oh, I— it's.. It was ‘cause he's not acting himself right now.” Glenn answered, albeit shakily. “She’s just like that, you know? She gives someone a warning— just once, and if that person didn't follow through the warning.. She's not afraid to punch them. Hence, the piece of her mind. She tried that on Daryl once, and when Daryl didn't follow through her warning, he got sucker punched in the stomach.. It was back at the Quarry.”
A smile crept into Maggie's lips as she listened to Glenn's story, and upon seeing the delighted twinkle in her eyes made the asian man swallow.
God, did she look beautiful.
You could feel your nose twitching as you walked through trees, and you fought so hard to hold it in because you didn't want to alert any walker that could possibly be walking by, but it was extremely hard.
“Achoo— crap!” You sneezed, but not just any kind of sneeze. It's the kind of sneeze that those uncles and dads let out, the deep and boisterous one.
Sneezing that hard made your throat sore a little. You raised a hand to massage your throat as you continued hiking down the trail you're following. You could more or less tell that the trail you're following belongs to a squirrel. Squirrels are easy to catch if they're not startled, but your obnoxious sneeze probably scared them off already so following the trail is going to be useless.
You pushed through still, not wanting to be discouraged because of a single mistake. Sneezing is hard in the apocalypse, but it can’t be helped if you can't stop it. Sighing, you focused your attention back on the trail.
Walking down the path you're following through, you noticed that there's another trail.
“Is that.. A horse shoe?” You wandered aloud, staring closely on the tracks, then a quiet neigh along with a snort of a horse came from somewhere in the woods, indirectly confirming your suspicion.
The cries of the mammal are far, but you could hear its whines as it gets farther and farther.
You stopped in your tracks and slowly reached for your knife. You remembered, just a tad bit, that Daryl had that episode where he found the doll Sophia was carrying. He had gone down a cliff to get it and when he went back up to get back on the horse, something spooked the horse and caused it to drop Daryl.
You don't remember what spooked it, but you remembered how badly injured Daryl was.
Oh, shit, is it happening right now? You cursed in your mind, quickly rushing forward to follow the trail that was left behind by the horse. The tracks are faint, but you can still see them and it's leading you somewhere where you can hear water running.
Before you knew it, you ended up on a cliff.
“Oh my goodness.” You huffed out, your gaze flickering to the unconscious man below where a walker is reaching for his boots, the said walker getting down to his knees and starting chewing on the archer's shoes.
“Daryl! Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!” You hissed under your breath repeatedly, scrambling to get down and letting yourself roll down the cliff.
Splash.
Your body crashed down into the water, splashing water around you. The sound caught the walker's attention, just in time to see Daryl gaining consciousness and stare at the retreating form of the walking corpse.
“W.. Wha?” He grumbled, eyes trying to focus on what was in front of him.
“Come here, you stupid corpse!” You growled quietly, hand tightening around your knife as you waited for it to get closer, and once it got close enough, you lunged forward and didn't waste a second to dig your blade into its skull to kill it.
The two of you crashed into the water, mainly you dropping on top of it for not getting your balance back in time.
You scrambled to get back on your feet, panting heavily. It's quite hard to pull your own weight while you're in the water. It feels like gravity is ten times worse when you're in it, but it doesn't matter now, you managed to get the walker off from Daryl.
Speaking of the archer, you spotted him getting back onto his ass with a pained scowl on his face.
You splashed your way towards him, forcing your legs to move through the running stream no matter how hard it was. When you finally got out of the water, you shook your arms slightly before walking over to him— just in time to see him hissing in pain.
“Hey.” You called, causing the archer to turn to look at you. “I'm sorry.”
Your apology caught him off guard, that much is evident at how his eyebrows creased further together while he scanned you from head to toe. You reached forward, eyes flickering to his punctured side. He watched you as you cautiously approached him, making him tense up in return.
“What the hell are ya apologizing for— son of a bitch!” Daryl screamed on the top of his lungs.
You pulled the arrow out of his side, hand curling around the bolt’s shaft. The unexpected pain caused him to double over and place a shaking hand onto the wound to hopefully ease the pain that erupted from the wound.
“What's yer problem, woman?!” He hissed, but his voice cracked so you didn't feel the need to hiss back.
“I apologized in advance, didn't I?” You retorted softly, crouching down to place the arrow beside him. “Anyway, based on the spot where you passed out, I'll guess that you dropped your crossbow somewhere near it.”
“Why don't ya just fuck off?!” Daryl growled, still reeling from the pain, but the tone of his voice didn't have much bite.
“I will.” You hummed and pushed yourself up, your eyes scanning the surroundings to look for the big stick he used in the show to cope a feel for his crossbow in the water. “Only after I bring you back to the farm, of course. Can't let you wander around all injured and pissy. Can’t have you die out here.”
Daryl could only scowl at your way, but once again, you ignored it and walked over to the deeper part of the water.
You didn't see the big stick he used, so you had to improvise and dive into the water. It was a good thing that you're not wearing Rick's sheriff jacket and left it on the laundry basket due to the grime stuck on it, because if you didn't, you don't know where else to leave it.
“Don't ya dare touch my stuff!” Daryl screamed out to you, making you simply wave him off as you braced yourself to dive.
If you remember correctly, the crossbow is around the middle, so you exhaled shakily and started poking under the water using your feet. You don't want to dive in blindly into the water, of course, that would be too stupid to do.
When you felt something hit your foot, you quickly dived down and clutched your fingers around it.
Watching from his spot, Daryl could only scowl. He doesn't know why you're going through all that trouble to help him. You've been doing just fine without offering a hand to him, so what changed? He stared at the spot where you lowered yourself, then when you rose back with your hand lifting the crossbow off the water, he teared his gaze immediately.
You trudged your way out of the river and picked up your weapons off the mud.
He could feel that same weird butterfly in his stomach when you started to stomp over to his way, your hips shaking a little— and he wasn't sure if you're doing it internationally or not, but it's starting to piss him off.
“Didn't ask for yer help.” He grumbled, snatching his crossbow off your hand.
“You're welcome.” You hummed, pushing your wet hair out of your face as you looked up the cliff, eyebrows furrowing when you took in the sight of how steep it was. “Anyway, how are we going to climb that thing? You're hurt, and I'm not strong enough to carry you.”
“Who said I need yer help?” Daryl grunted, ripping out the sleeves of his shirt and trying it around his ribs. “Don’t need nobody’s help.”
“Sure, you don't.” You mumbled and walked over to the foot of the cliff, your eyes glued to the squirrel that fell down just a minute ago. You gripped your knife tightly and focused on the critter as it struggled to get back up, only failing and rolling down once more.
Daryl watched subconsciously as you stalked past him, his eyes catching sight of what got your attention. He scoffed, but didn't say anything.
Five minutes later, you came back to his spot and dropped the dead squirrel into his lap, making him freeze and look up to you. Just then, another moaning walker wandered out of the tree line and spotted the two of you. It started making its way across the water and staggered on its own feet to get to you.
“I'll take care of it.” You told him, throwing a knife his way before turning away, “Eat that, then we go.”
“I don't need yer help—” Daryl hissed again, but you were already walking away from him to take care of the walker who was reaching its arms out to grab you. “That woman's full of crap. Thinkin’ that she can boss me around just ‘cause she decided I'm weak and all that..”
He hated the feeling of being assisted. He hated the feeling that he's with someone who's fully capable of herself, but still extended a helping hand. He had told Rick yesterday that he's better off alone than going with someone, because being with someone will just slow him down.
But you? Oh, you're doing whatever you want and leaving him with no air in his lungs.
You didn't even give him the chance to curse you out properly and just left him while he was busy talking shit about you. If you're not someone who will listen to his shits, then he already knows that you're going to be nothing, but trouble in the near future.
He doesn't want to work with someone who will bring trouble. He can’t be around someone who only thinks of herself and pisses him off. He can’t work with someone who would do shit even if he told them otherwise. He grumbled under his breath, shoving his hand to the knife and snatching it off the muddy ground.
However, all of his thoughts came flying out of his head when you dragged the walker's corpse over and dropped it by his feet. His eyes squinted subconsciously, confusion clear in his gaze.
You panted, placing your hands over your hips. “Do what you have to do once you're done eating.”
He stayed silent, his tongue feeling a little heavier than usual. He stared at the dead corpse and flickered his eyes at you, already finding you turning your back to him and looking around for who knows what.
Just.. Just how did you know that he was planning to use the walkers’ ears as a repellent to other walkers? How did you know what he was planning to do without him saying the words aloud? Do you have psychic powers? Did you have something up your sleeves that told you what he wanted to do?
Daryl could only look at you with an incredulous look on his face, but his hands didn't stop working the squirrel open.
“Hurry up, Dixon.” You grumbled out, facing him again to watch him dig his fingers inside the squirrel's open belly and scoop out its first available meat, before throwing that bloody piece inside his mouth.
Your nose scrunched up in slight disgust, but kept those thoughts to yourself and forced out quietly, “We still need to haul our asses up the cliff.”
“Don't need yer help—”
“Yeah, yeah, you don't need my help.” You huffed, cutting him off as you shot him a pointed look, “But who cares? Just hurry your ass up so we can leave this godforsaken river and be on our way.”
Previous chapter, next chapter.
In the world of TWD, 027.
Summary:
You woke up in the world of TWD, and you fought so hard to not change the plot of the show, to not get too close— afraid that you'll end up with more losses than not. However, the more time you spend with them, interact with them, laugh and smile with them.. You realize that you're slowly getting attached to every single one of them.
Still, you try not to socialize much, because you don't want to get hurt when a character dies. But.. People is real stubborn.
You were already up and about before the sun rose, and you quickly exited Daryl's tent when you realized where you had the audacity to fall asleep.
The redneck was nowhere to be seen, but based on the closed tent— your tent, by the way, you know that Daryl took the courtesy of sleeping inside. You let out an embarrassed groan at that, unable to stop yourself from feeling the shame crawling deep into your heart.
What was it that you said again? That you'll detach yourself from others? That you'll slowly separate yourself from them so by the time you left, they wouldn't notice?
Yeah, right. You thought, cursing yourself in your mind as you kicked a rock out of your way.
Before you left the campsite, you made sure that the archer’s blanket was folded neatly on top of his cot and even had the manners to clean the inside of his tent for a little bit without actually going through his stuff.
The last thing you want right now is to have Daryl breathing down your neck because you touched his stuff.
You trudged your way over to the farm’s barn, but before you could walk over there, you spotted Carol exiting the RV with a basket propped up on her hip bone on the corner of your eyes. You raised an eyebrow and looked past her to see if someone else was going with her, but to your surprise, there was no one else awake.
Where the hell is Lori? You wandered, already jogging towards the woman who slowly made her way to one of the wells in the farm.
It took you a good five minutes before you caught up to Carol, and by the time you did, she was already segregating the dark clothes to light ones. Though it's unlikely that people would comment on dark clothes that had bleach stains on them, you know it's better to not say anything to the woman.
“Carol.” You called, slowly coming into a halt and letting the woman know of your presence.
Carol flinched, but she was quick to recover and mask that flinch of hers with a soft smile thrown over your way. She paused what she was doing for a moment, hands freezing in the air as her beautiful blue eyes met yours, then she went back to segregating the clothes.
“I'm here to help.” You informed her, stepping closer to crouch down beside the basket.
“It's fine.” Carol assured you, but she didn't make any further move to stop you from grabbing a few pieces of clothing and throwing them to their appropriate pile.
“It's fine, really.” She mumbled, trying to stop you, albeit softly, but you're real stubborn. “You've already done enough for me, for Rick and for Lori— for the group in general.. The least I could do right now to return the favor is to wash these dirty clothes and let people sleep in.”
“We don't do that around here.” You grunted, finishing the last process of segregation by throwing someone's underwear into a pile of men's underwear.
“But it's the least I could do—”
“Nah.” You scoffed, cutting off the woman for trying to put herself down just to help others. “It's okay to help, Carol, but don't say those words to yourself. You're a woman, a very kind hearted, caring, loving, lovely, and a strong woman. Don't try putting yourself down just to put others up.”
You felt annoyed. Not at Carol, but at yourself. She was such a passionate and caring woman to everyone in the group. When the farm fell, she took it upon herself to take care of Lori throughout winter and when Rick was in crazy town, she was the one trying to keep things smooth by being loving.
She just didn't take care of Lori, she took care of Carl, Daryl, and even tried to be as loving and caring as she could towards Rick.
Carol is one of your favorite characters in the show, so you would be damned to hear her insult herself.
“Sorry.” Was a soft whisper you heard from her.
You froze. Your gaze flickered up to look at Carol. You didn't mean to lash out like that towards her— you were just hurt that she would say something like that to herself, but you know you can't change her mind.
It was Daryl who changed that.
“I'm sorry.” You apologized as well, forcing your gaze down to the empty basket. “Didn't mean to lash out.”
“.. You're a good woman, too.” Carol hummed, bending down to pick up the basket and walking over to the well. “Which is precisely why I want to do your laundry for you, but I can't find your bag anywhere. I heard from T-Dog and Glenn that it was in the RV, but it wasn't there.”
Your heart warmed at those words. In the apocalypse, there are only limited ways to show someone how much you care, how much you like them, and how much you love them.
In this case, doing things for you is how Carol could show hers. It doesn't feel right, sure, but who are you to take away that feeling of love from her? You're already feeling grateful enough that you received her acknowledgement, and taking the only thing that might be distracting her from thinking about her missing daughter would be an ass move.
You let out a sigh and walked over to the water pump. “I don't have dirty clothes, but the bag is in your cherokee. Rick took it from me before we left Atlanta.”
Carol chuckled. “I remember now. Thank you.”
“You're welcome.” You hummed, feeling much better compared to how you were feeling yesterday. “I'll help you finish these, then I'll be off to start my search. Is that okay with you?”
“It would be best if you just don't help me here and focus on getting more rest before you have to leave.” Carol rebutted, but that only made you snort.
“Yeah, no.” You mumbled, making her sigh and drop the basin in front of the water pump.
“I know.” She uttered, a small smile emerging on her face, her eyes catching the way your arm flexed as you pump some water into the basin. “I figured.. Anyway, you remember what you said back at the highway? About you telling me to get a necklace for you and me so we can match?”
“Mmn.” You acknowledged, pumping the water continuously.
“Well, I got us an earring and necklace.” Carol continued, dropping the first batch of light colored clothes into the basin to let the water soak the fabrics. “It's a pair, but you can take the earrings while I get the necklace.”
When Carol finished speaking, the basin was filled with water by then, and you took this chance to walk over to the basin and start scrubbing the dirt off the clothes.
“I figured that since you're already wearing a necklace, you might not want to take it off, so I'll just wear the necklace and throw away the one I'm wearing right now.” Carol stated, crouching down beside you to help you with getting the dirt and grimes off the fabrics. “This necklace came from Ed anyway. I don't need it.”
“Okay.” You uttered, fingers curling around Rick's shirt before scrubbing it as hard as you could to get rid of the clump of dirt on the collar.
Carol smiled at your answer, finding it endearing that you're willing to listen to her despite her brashness towards certain things. You have your own way of showing that you care— always keeping an eye out, ready to offer a helping hand, up and already on your feet to get things done.. It's already a lot of help when you ran after Sophia, and even more so when you were the last to get back because you were occupied looking for her.
She knew that you weren't much of a talker, but the fact that you show in small ways how much the kids mean to you is more than enough.
People who treasure kids are good people, that much is obvious and more so, if those people wouldn't think twice to go after the kids the moment they slip away from their grasp, ready to tackle any obstacle in their path.
“Thanks.” Carol mumbled, the corner of her lips quirking up as she looked at you briefly. “I'll put the earrings on you later.”
“Hm.” You hummed quietly, nodding your head.
The two of you went ahead and went to work. By the time you and Carol finished the laundry, Rick and the others are already gathering by Otis' car. They circled around the vehicle's hood, each of them looking refreshed and ready to tackle the day. Rick, in particular, turned to look at you, lips slightly pursed into a small smile.
“Good morning.” Rick greeted you and the woman beside you, making you nod once in acknowledgement with Carol simply flashing him a smile.
As the two of you walked, the cop had his eyes trained on you.
“Seems like she had a good night's rest.” He muttered, stating his observation aloud which caused Daryl to glance at him before looking at you.
The sheriff was right. The air around you seemed softer and calmer compared to yesterday, and there was this look on your face that screamed you can take whatever bullshit comes your way today. Though you still have your resting bitch face on, anyone in the group could tell that they could approach you easier any time today if they want to.
“Come on, guys, we've got a lot of ground to cover!” Rick called, earning him looks from the people around the little campsite, but he was mainly calling for you.
You simply let out a huff when you heard his call and Carol couldn't stop the smile that crept to her face. She placed a hand on your arm and squeezed softly, being careful as to not to hurt you, just enough to tell you that you should go.
You glanced at her and raised an eyebrow, but didn't fight her off when she started nudging you towards Rick and the others.
You let her push you, gently and slowly, not bothering to hide the frown that settled on your face as you approached Otis' car, just in time to hear Jimmy say that he wanted to help— even going as far as lying to Rick's face that Hershel told him to ask Rick if he wanted to join.
“It's not good to lie.” You stated bluntly, causing the teen to flinch and whisk his head to look at you.
“I'm not.” Jimmy uttered, swallowing thickly.
“Right.” You hummed, slipping yourself between him and Rick, eyebrows furrowing further as eyed him up and down, scrutinizing his entire being. “And let's say.. What if you are? What am I going to do with you?”
Jimmy felt himself cave in under the pressure of your stare, the look on your eyes enough to give him a nightmare for a night or two, but he didn't back down. He kept himself planted firmly onto his spot and simply teared his gaze away from yours.
“Let the boy go.” Andrea spoke up, placing a hand on the hood of the car. “Hersh said to ask Rick. You're not Rick.”
“Did I say I am?” You retorted, swiveling your head to look at the blonde woman, your eyes narrowing into a nasty glare, “I don't listen to people's words unless they bring proof to back up their claims. Isn't this one of the rules when it comes to jury? Aren't you supposed to be aware of this ‘cause you were a lawyer before all this?"
“What the heck is your problem?” Andrea growled, stepping forward to grab you, but Rick stopped her by placing a hand on her shoulder.
“I don't have a problem, woman.” You grumbled, eyes flickering back towards Jimmy and let a scowl settle on your face, “Just when people straight up lie in other people's faces, get other people in trouble, and possibly get them kicked out for misinformation.”
You stared at Jimmy, glare sharpening. “But be my guest then. Just don't tell me that I didn't warn you.”
Your words are directed more at Rick rather than the boy in front of you, and Rick knew that you weren't messing around when you didn't tear your gaze away from Jimmy. Still, he needed whatever help he could get, so he will have to accept Jimmy into the search party for now.
You, on the other hand, stormed off once more. The others could only watch your form disappear into the house when you slammed the front door shut behind you.
“Seriously, what's her problem?” Andrea grumbled.
“She's probably still tired.” Rick sighed and leaned forward to look at the map, but his eyes kept shifting to look at the farm house. “As I have said, she had more blood transfusions than I did. If there's a reason why she's agitated right now, the cause is pointed at me. So just blame me.”
You didn't know that Rick is already blaming himself for your outburst, not that you care at the moment. You feel annoyed and fed up with everything.
You stomped your way back to the house to get your machete and your knife. You left it by the coffee table yesterday because you were too tired to carry different kinds of weight on your belt, and proceeded to forget about it altogether when you left the house last night.
Your machete and knife were on the same spot where you have left them, and didn't waste time on looping the makeshift holsters around your waist and locking it in place. It might be useless at the moment, but you want to go out to sweep off the woods and start honing your skills.
If you're going to leave the group after the farm fails, then you need to learn how to be quieter, how to hunt without a gun or an arrow, how to climb trees faster, and how to differentiate a trail of a human and an animal.
You have time to hone your skills, so that's what you're going to do while you're out there, but first things first, you have to cut the grid in half.
Since Daryl said that he got half of the creek’s grid in half covered, you’ll be looking for the other half today. You let out a huff, eyes sweeping on the entirety of the living room before turning around to exit the house.
You have to get moving if you want to come back by nightfall.
Previous chapter, next chapter.
In the world of TWD, 026.
Summary:
You woke up in the world of TWD, and you fought so hard to not change the plot of the show, to not get too close— afraid that you'll end up with more losses than not. However, the more time you spend with them, interact with them, laugh and smile with them.. You realize that you're slowly getting attached to every single one of them.
Still, you try not to socialize much, because you don't want to get hurt when a character dies. But.. People is real stubborn.
By nightfall, you still haven't found it in you to sleep a wink— the worries you have in your mind throughout the day got replaced with the happy memories you had with your little sisters gradually.
The memories haunt you every time you close your eyes.
When you first tried to sleep when Maggie left for her run to town with Glenn, Yaica’s distorted face came to mind and she was moaning, growling, snapping her jaw in your way, and she was reaching out to grab you. You were so scared and worried about your own safety that you ended up digging your knife into her skull.
You told yourself a hundred times that you will protect them with all your might if they were in this world, too, but deep down, you knew that you wouldn't be able to. Walkers lurk in unexpected places.
One wrong move would make you lose them. And unfortunately, as if Yaica wasn't enough, Yasmin visited your dream next.
The little girl had her back turned on you when you drifted off to dreamland, her straight black hair a tangled mess so you had this strong urge to card your fingers through them to untangle them, but the moment you got close enough to touch her, she turned around and lunged.
Just like with Yaica, your blade sunk down in her skull before she could take a bite out of your arm. You woke up panting and shaking.
Your dreams.. They were so detailed.
Since then, you refused to go back to sleep and kept pacing around the house to keep your mind off things— to make you not think of anything else, but your current predicament.
Right now, you're sitting beside Rick in Carl's room.
When he spotted you walking around the living room, hands tucked under your armpits, eyebrows furrowed with an obvious distraught and distant look in your eyes.. He called for you and asked you to sit with him.
You did, but not because you wanted to, but because you didn't want to be left alone with your thoughts any longer.
The two of you sat side by side, knees almost touching, his arm that was resting on the armrest felt too close for comfort, but you didn't move away. His presence grounded you in this reality, and in a way, you're using him as a distraction to not let your head be filled with the memories you have of your family.
“Hey, Dad, (last name).”
Both you and Rick snapped back into focus when you heard Carl's voice, making Rick shift in his seat and lean forward.
“Hey.” Rick croaked out, staring solemnly at his son.
Carl returned the stare, but his eyes were sparkling with a little hope— a little gratitude, if you will, and all you could do is bring your legs up to your chest and watch the two of them have a stare down.
It was Rick who broke it though.
He cleared his throat and he leaned closer to his son's bed, his hand resting on the mattress. “Carl, I told you something earlier today about Sophia..”
The guilt on his voice is clear and you were thankful that Carl had this look of understanding on his face when he decided to cut his father off.
“I know.” Carl mumbled, eyes flickering to Rick's face. “Mom told me.”
Silence filled the room. You could see Rick fighting back a relieved smile from crawling into his lips, but he failed anyway, letting a small smile creep into his face as he shook his head.
“Here I was getting ready to confess.” Rick huffed in annoyance, but there was no real bite behind the words. “I didn't mean to lie. I just didn't want to worry you. It's.. It's a stupid excuse, but it's all I got.”
“It's okay.” Carl assured him, staring sadly at his father. “But.. Do you think we'll find her?”
“I know we will.” Rick affirmed softly, nodding his head, but he paused after, lowering his gaze to the floor. “Well, I don't.. Know, but I truly believe it.”
Silence filled the space again, the two of them letting the meaning behind those words settle over them.
“You look tired.” The little boy mumbled, causing the sheriff to let out a breathy snort and let a small smile return to his face. “Both of you look tired.”
You were quite surprised that Carl included you. You did your best to stay quiet so you wouldn't disturbed their father-son bonding time, but it was kind of clear to you that the two of them are still aware of your presence. You are sitting, curled in a ball, beside Rick after all. You are still a distraction either way.
“I remember I have something to do.” You uttered, unable to stop yourself from escaping their scrutinizing gaze before standing up from your seat and walking around the bed.
You cast a glance at Carl's way to look at him one more time, only to catch him following you with his gaze. You flashed him a small smile before you could process what you were doing, making him blink and return it tenfold, his lips pulled taut with a small grin. You froze. You immediately realized what you have done.
You smiled. You flashed Carl a smile. This is dangerous. You weren’t supposed to do that. Smiling means that you’re growing fond of someone. Smiling means that you’re starting to care. You can’t have that. Not under your watch.
Shaking off the shock from your system, you cleared your throat and wiped the smile off.
“I'm glad that you're awake, buddy.” You told him, nodding your head once before exiting the room to give them the privacy they deserve.
From here on out, Rick won't be a sheriff anymore.
You're sure as fuck that Rick will hand his cowboy hat to his son and take off the sheriff uniform, then he will removed his sheriff uniform from his bag, from his pile of clothing in their tent. You know that he's planning to leave it all behind, but even so, you can't stop your hand from tightening around the sheriff jacket tied around your waist.
You refuse to let go of the jacket— not now, not ever. It has been a part of you since the beginning. It went through thick and thin with you. You'll be damned if you're going to let it go just because he decided that being a sheriff isn't good for his people anymore.
He will have to wrestle it out of you if he truly wants it off and honestly, you can put up one hell of a fight.
Huffing and stomping, you walked towards the front door. However, you paused in your tracks when you spotted Beth walking down the stairs, carrying a tent in her arms. She looked up from the floor and her face brightened up a little when she noticed you.
“There you are.” The teenager breathed out, her hands pushing the tent into your arms very gently. “Maggie told me to give you this.”
“A tent?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah.” Beth affirmed, nodding her head as she stared at you. “You can set it up somewhere outside. Your pillow and cot will be delivered to you by Jimmy. He's currently looking for a pillowcase.”
You looked down to the tent in your arms before looking back up again. You don't know why the Greene sisters are being this thoughtful towards you, but you couldn't stop yourself from feeling grateful. A part of you hoped that they're doing this out of goodwill because they wanted to befriend you, but a part of you already knows that they're just doing this because you're part of Rick's group.
Still, you forced a smile on your face.
“Thanks.” You hummed, hugging the tent tightly into your chest. “I truly appreciate the help.”
“Do you need help setting it up?” Beth asked weakly, blinking down into the pale contour on your face, the worry that webbed into her mind yesterday creeping back in now that she took a proper look at your face.
“Nah.” You disagreed and shut her offer down almost immediately. “I'll manage. Thanks.”
“But—” Beth wanted to protest, to be stubborn and offer help but she stopped instantly when you pushed the screen door open and walked out, not bothering to look back and continue your way down across the field.
You could see the group’s tent in the distance, right under the shades of the trees, so you quickly maneuvered away from that direction. You can’t camp with them if you want to keep them at arm’s length. You have to get away and set your camp somewhere else, just like what Daryl did in the show.
“Where are ya off to?” Came a gruff voice from behind you when you turned in your heels to get away from everyone.
You froze in your tracks and your grip on the tent tightened.
You fought so hard to not pay attention to the archer's words and just walked past him to go to the other side of the farm— away from Rick's group, away from the barn, away from the pond, away from Daryl's tent, because if you're going to slip away in the near future, you have to be discreet and avoid rousing the suspicion of others.
How are you going to do that? Well, of course, by keeping their noses out of your business.
“Ya runnin’ off again?” Daryl hissed, grabbing your arm and tugging you back. “After ya almost got yerself killed, ya plannin’ to run off now?”
The sudden change in your balance causes you to stagger back, your visions swimming for a moment because of the force of his pull, making you let go of the tent and drop it on the grass. Daryl quickly caught you before you could fall and he was grumbling curses under his breath.
“Can't even get ‘em feet planted on the ground.” He scoffed, bending down to quickly pick up the tent. “C’mon, don't got all night to set this up.”
“I don't need your help.” You grunted out, pulling your arm off from his grip and stepping away from him. “Stop putting your nose into my business. I can handle myself just fine. If you want to help around here, then just focus on searching for Sophia.”
You know damn well that Daryl did most of the search for the little girl, but you couldn't stop yourself, the words just spilled out of your mouth.
“You don't got all night? Yeah, right! Focus on other people's shits if you don't have all night!” You shot back, hand already reaching out to snatch the tent out of his grasp, but he was quick to pull it away from your reach, his lips pulled into a sneer.
“What got ya all pissy?” Daryl growled, eyeing you up and down. “Ya hungry or somethin'?”
“Just get off my back, Dixon.” You huffed, turning in your heels to walk away from him, not wanting to deal with his ass any longer.
You decided right then and there that if he doesn't want to give the tent back, then he can have it— and if he wanted to, he might as well shove that up his ass since he seemed particularly taken with that damn tent.
“Real stubborn.” Daryl grunted, curling his fingers and clutching a fistful of your shirt.
“What the fuck—” You gasped out in shock, your feet scrambling to find their footing when you got pulled back by the collar of your sleeveless shirt, the tugging coming hard from Daryl's grip as he forced you to move back to where the tents are laid out.
“Let go of me!” You whispered-yell, trying hard to get out of his tight grip and doing your best to not wake others.
“Just go sleep, woman.” He murmured with a quiet huff, shoving you inside of his tent and throwing you a blanket that you don't know where it came from. “Can't have another person to look for when we already got our hands full of ‘em search for the lil’ girl.”
“I don't need to be looked after.” You hissed, but you moved to bury yourself in Daryl's cot and laid out the blanket on top of you. “Just go to hell, Dixon.”
“Am already there.” He snorted, shooting you a glance before he turned away to start on your tent.
You watched him disappear from sight, and from the looks of it, he was planning to set up the tent behind where his tent is. You could only sigh, feeling the regret and shame crawling into your veins for acting like a bitch towards someone who is concerned about your well-being.
You're going to separate yourself from them, sure, but it's no excuse to be an asshole towards him.
I'll just apologize tomorrow. You grumbled in your mind as you laid on his cot, your eyelids fluttering shut when the exhaustion finally caught up to you.
You don't know why, but somehow, you feel a whole lot safer now.
It's quite funny for him to see that you're kicking and yelling at him to let you go, but the moment he throws a blanket your way, you become a little docile, with teeth still bared out at him and cursing him to go to hell.
He hadn't seen you since morning, and that left him all pissed off at everybody and everything, but the moment he saw you stomping your way out of the house with a tent clutched tightly in your hands, he took the chance to piss you off more because you pissed him off.
He was slightly annoyed at himself for not finding a single clue about the little girl's whereabouts— just a vague sign that someone small was living in a house not far from the farm, so angering you helps him blow off some steam.
It's weird, he knows, but it's the only emotion he could rile out of you at the moment.
With a huff and puff, the redneck started putting up your tent a couple of feet away from his tent. Its flaps are black, and it looked big enough to house yourself and another person, with a couple of bags here and there tossed on the corner.
When he was done with your tent, Jimmy and Beth came rushing out of the farmhouse with a pillow and a cot.
“Here.” The teenager boy breathed out, panting.
He held out the cot and the pillow towards Daryl, his eyes glancing at the tent that Daryl had just finished putting up, he sputtered words out, nervous under the intimidating gaze of the redneck, “It's for.. For the woman who donated blood to the little boy—”
“(Last name).” Beth corrected her boyfriend, making her boyfriend clear his throat and nod his head, “Her name is (Last name), Jimmy.”
“It's for (last name).” Jimmy said, lips pursing.
Daryl shot them a look before he snatched the cot and pillow from the boy's arms. Beth and Jimmy quickly run away, their breaths ragged as they went as fast as they could to get away from the group’s little campsite.
Beth couldn't help, but wonder.. Who knew that someone like you would hang out with a man like Daryl?
Previous chapter, next chapter.
In the world of TWD, 025.
Summary:
You woke up in the world of TWD, and you fought so hard to not change the plot of the show, to not get too close— afraid that you'll end up with more losses than not. However, the more time you spend with them, interact with them, laugh and smile with them.. You realize that you're slowly getting attached to every single one of them.
Still, you try not to socialize much, because you don't want to get hurt when a character dies. But.. People is real stubborn.
"Blessed be God, Father of our Lord Jesus Christ." Hershel recited, starting the prayer for Otis' funeral, his hand clutching his bible gently. "Praise be to Him for the gift of our brother Otis for his span of years, for his abundance of character."
One by one, the Greene's placed a rock on top of the pile of rocks, and you could only watch them do so.
"Otis, who gave his life to save a child's, now more than ever, our most precious asset. We thank you, God, for the peace he enjoys in your embrace." The doctor continued saying his prayers, making everyone present look down on the ground.
"He died as he lived, in grace." Hershel finished his prayer, his eyes flickering towards the man who was with Otis last. "Shane, will you speak for Otis?"
Shane flinched, almost imperceptible.
"I'm not good at it." Shane uttered, his little white lie making you let out a scoff under your breath. "I'm sorry."
Glenn and Daryl glanced at you, who were standing on either side of you, your little scoff not slipping past their sense of hearing. It was obvious in your face that you don't like the cop, and it has always been that way since the Quarry, but what got you so hyped up this time?
"You were the last one with him." Patricia sobbed out, a choked sob escaping her lips as she looked at him. "You shared his final moments. Please. I need to hear."
The look on Shane's face is priceless and it took a lot from you to stop yourself from laughing.
"I need to know his death had meaning." Patricia insisted, her voice shaking and cracking, as she leaned further into Beth's and Maggie's embrace. "Please."
The silence that followed her words was loud. No one dared to speak and no one dared to stop Patricia from wanting to hear the last moments of her beloved husband. No one really has the heart to do it, so they kept their mouths shut. Yours included.
Then, Shane spoke up, the lies stumbling out of his mouth like it was his mother tongue.
"We were about done." He started, licking his lips in a nervous manner. "Almost out of ammo. We were down to pistols by then. I was limping. It was bad. Ankle all swollen up."
Shane paused, eyes having a distant look in them. "We've got to save the boy. See, that's what he said. He gave me his backpack.. He shoved me ahead. Run, he said. He said.. I'll take the rear. I'll cover you. And when I looked back. He.."
He stopped speaking, his eyes flickering to look at Patricia.
You couldn't stop yourself from scowling at him. Your eyebrows creasing together, lips pulled taut in a sneer. You tried to hide it the best you could, even turning your head away and risking facing Daryl so no one else would be able to see the look on your face.
The archer noticed you looking at him from the corner of his eyes, or more likely to the ground, making him glance at you.
He spotted the scowl on your face, and it caused him to tighten his arms around himself to keep himself from saying something. See, there's something about you that doesn't need words to let them know what you're feeling, what you're thinking, what your opinion is.
All they have to do is look at your eyes sometimes back in the past. It will tell them something, if not everything, they need to know about what you're thinking, and right now, Daryl could see whatever bullshit Shane is spouting currently.. It's making you incredibly agitated.
"If not for Otis." Shane announced and limped his way towards the cart full of stones. "I'd never made it out alive."
He placed a stone on the pile of stones before him, his voice cracking as he continued speaking. "And that goes for Carl, too. It was Otis. He saved us both. If any death ever had meaning.. It was his."
Bullshit. You hissed in your mind, turning away.
After Shane's big ol' speech about Otis saving the fucking day, you were the first one to walk away and settle by where the RV is parked. You dwelled deeply in your thoughts, your eyes flickering to the ground to focus more on what you have in your mind.
What can you do to get Shane off the picture without having to kill him? You weren't thinking about him yesterday, but now that you attend Otis' funeral, you know you have to get rid of him one way or another. The question is.. How can you get him out of the group before he could cause chaos? And before he could imprint more of his behavior onto Carl?
Not long after you sat down on the RV's stairs, Rick and the others started making their way over.
You glanced up, gaze meeting Rick's for a moment. He nodded his head to acknowledge you, then shifted his gaze to Otis' car. You stood up from your spot and walked over to the car where they had gathered around, your eyes flickering towards Maggie who was carrying a map in her hands before walking and slotting yourself between Rick and Hershel.
"How long has this little girl been lost?" The doctor asked, placing his arm on the hood of the car.
"This will be day three." Rick answered.
"County survey map." Maggie informed everyone gathered around the car and slipped herself between Rick and you before spreading the map out on the top of the hood. "Shows terrain and elevations."
"This is perfect." Rick mumbled, eyes scanning the map with a familiar look of relief in them. "We can finally get this thing organized. We'll grid the whole area, and start searching in teams."
Hershel was quick to interject. "Not you. Not today."
"Then, I can—" You started, opening your mouth to volunteer instead of Rick, but Hershel turned his attention to you and shot you the same kind of firm look, making you shut your mouth immediately.
"Not you either." He chided, letting out a huff. "Rick gave three units of blood while you gave almost five. The two of you wouldn't be hiking five minutes in this heat before passing out."
Then, he turned to Shane. "And your ankle, push it now, you'll be laid up for a month. No good to anybody."
"Guess it's just me." Daryl drawled out, eyes glued to the map as he focused more on the routes he can take for today's search, "I'm gonna head back to the creek, work my way from there."
"I can still be useful." Shane spoke up, gesturing to the map. "I'll drive up to the interstate, see if Sophia wandered back."
"Same here." You grunted out, catching everyone's attention. "I can drive to check the nearby area or slowly trudge my way over there. Either way, I'll be useful enough for today's search—"
"Ya ain't." Daryl grumbled and cut you off, eyes sweeping you from head to your middle. "Ya look like shit. Might as well shoot ya now 'cause ya look like a walker—"
"Daryl's right." Rick interjected before the archer could finish his sentence, not wanting for a fight to break out. "You're not going out there today, (last name). Listen to Hershel for now. We'll be fine tomorrow, and by then we'll start doing this right."
You know that the two of them are right. You're damn sure that they're right. Still, your heart plummeted to your stomach at the thought of not doing anything to help, to lessen the burden, to make Carol feel assured. You feel completely useless.
You scoffed, more pointed to yourself than anyone else, and pivoted in your heels, stomping away from them.
Everyone was silent as you walked away, knowing full well that you're taking your incapability to help with the search heavier than anybody, but it was Rick who broke it by letting out a sigh and a shake of his head. Though there's no look of anger or disappointment in his eyes, but just understanding and sympathy.
"I'll go talk to her." Rick said, sighing heavily and already turning around to run after you, but Maggie is faster.
"No, let me do it." She stated firmly and blocked Rick's path to stop him from running. "You have to give an order to your people anyway."
Rick stopped in his tracks and shot Maggie a look. She's right, but that left a bad taste in his mouth. You're one of his people, one of the people he needed to protect, but with Maggie stepping in to offer comfort.. He quickly stopped his thought right there.
Pursing his lips, he gave her a reluctant nod and turned back to face Daryl, Shane, Hershel, and Andrea— the four of them watching as Rick and Maggie exchanged strained words.
When Maggie knew that the sheriff wouldn't run after you, she ran after you.
You stomped your way inside the house, your feet carrying you to Carl's room where he was laying down, unconscious, oblivious to the fact that Sophia still hasn't been found.
You know that he already woke up this morning, but Lori and Rick probably lied to him that Sophia is safe just so he could go back to sleep. You remembered watching from the show that Rick told Hershel that it made him feel bad, that it made him feel guilty that he was lying right in Carl's face.
You remembered sympathizing with Rick, but that's about it. If you were in Rick's shoes, you wouldn't hesitate lying to your little sister's and little cousins' faces to make them worry less.
It's fucked up, but no one is more important than them.
"Man, I would kill for a coffee right now." You grumbled, plopping yourself down on the chair beside Carl's bed, your fingers instantly finding themselves pressed against your temples.
You could feel a headache coming. It's not uncommon at this point, but you still hate the throbbing sensation of it.
If you could, you'll erase any kind of headaches on earth to make humanity feel a little better in this kind of apocalyptic world, but lo and behold, you're not some sucking wizard who could pull shit like that.
"Hey."
Your eyes snapped open when a familiar voice reached your ears, followed by three knocks on the open door.
"You good?" Maggie asked, smiling politely.
"Depends on the definition of your good." You answered, slowly relaxing in your seat after finding out that it was just Maggie and not Shane, not Andrea, and fortunately not Hershel— the old man kept getting up to your business for some reason and it's making you want to run away.
What you hate the most is confrontation, especially if it's coming from other people.
"Well, just good in general." Maggie stated, walking over to your side. "You seriously need to drink pineapple juice. You didn't drink yours last night, so I had to give it to Rick."
"Then give it to him again." You muttered, shifting your weight in your seat as your eyes landed on the glass of pineapple juice in her right hand. "He needs it more than I do. Have you seen how pale he is? How badly he was staggering back to your uncle's funeral? The guy will collapse any second if he doesn't sit down and rest."
"That's why Daddy told him to search tomorrow." Maggie countered, taking a seat beside you and holding the glass towards you. "Here. Drink it. Beth will just make another for him."
"I don't really need—" You grumbled, but stopped when Maggie shoved the glass into your hand with a pointed look in her face, making you purse your lips and look away from her. "Alright, fine, fine, fine. Geez.. Can't a girl breathe air around here without having people shove a pineapple juice into her hands?"
Despite you ranting under your breath, you still downed the juice in three gulps like your life depends on it. Maggie smiled at the scene, her eyes softening.
When you walked through the door with a frantic look in your face yesterday, you didn't hesitate to respond to Hershel's orders when Rick couldn't. You were so focused on keeping Carl alive that you didn't even notice how sick you look, like you're going through a withdrawal of some sort.
You're so worried about Rick and his son that you didn't even look at yourself in the mirror.
She let out a sigh and slowly took the empty glass from your hand. "I'll be going on a run with Glenn into town. While I'm gone, make sure you catch up with rest. You can go to the second floor and sleep in my room. The bed cover is fresh, so you'll be able to sleep more comfortably."
"Mmn." You hummed, softly responding to her words without wording it out, and rested your head on the backrest.
Maggie shot you one more glance before she exited the room, the sound of her boots clacking against the floor disappearing down the hall. Now that you're alone, you are left with the thoughts in your head.
A couple of days from now, Shane will go on rampage and break the lock on the barn's door. He will ask everyone who can shoot to shoot the walkers with him, whether they like it or not, and will end up killing everything inside the barn— just then, Sophia will come out.
You remembered Rick feeling torn apart when he saw the little girl, and you knew he would still have that look in his face this time around.
Slowly, you leaned forward and placed your elbows on your knees. You buried your face in your hands, your heart doing that familiar painful throb inside your chest. You feel helplessly hopeless in your situation, knowing full well that you can't change shit.
Is that why you're here? To just watch everything unfold right before your eyes?
Previous chapter, next chapter.
In the world of TWD, 024.
Summary:
You woke up in the world of TWD, and you fought so hard to not change the plot of the show, to not get too close— afraid that you'll end up with more losses than not. However, the more time you spend with them, interact with them, laugh and smile with them.. You realize that you're slowly getting attached to every single one of them.
Still, you try not to socialize much, because you don't want to get hurt when a character dies. But.. Certain people is real stubborn.
“We're going to help Maggie and others with the funeral.” Glenn informed you, making you blink and look away from the ceiling.
“Huh?” You mumbled and turned to him, eyebrows furrowing. “Oh, for Otis? Okay, be careful.”
Glenn stared at you for a while, his breathing heavy. He doesn't know what's wrong with you, doesn't know if something has happened to you, doesn't know if you have a lot on your mind. Honestly, he doesn't know shit about you.
All he knows is that you've been extra closed off than you were compared when all of you are still back at the Quarry.
You have been acting strange since CDC, since Daryl had you sitting with him on his truck, since you keep disappearing on them, but reappearing on crucial times. He doesn't know if something happened between the two of you, but it's not like the archer would do anything to you, right?
You did assure him that Daryl wouldn't hurt you.
He doesn't want to assume— of course not, but with the way you're acting right now, he has a hunch that you're shutting people off harder. He’s not the brightest bulb in the shed, but he could tell that much.
Even though you were always keeping an eye on the kids, even though you the first one to run after Sophia when she was chased by those walkers, even though you were the last one to come back when Sophia went missing, even though you were the first one to run towards the church when the bells first rung, even though you donated blood to Carl and is still doing it.. It still felt like you had those impenetrable walls around you.
A part of him knows that Daryl is slowly coming around, but you? You're colder than Antarctica.You show that you care, but at the same time, you always pull away every chance you get. Glenn and T-Dog tried to understand your reasons, tried to scope out if you have any ill intention, tried to see if you're worth keeping in the group even though they have no rights to do so, and soon, they found themselves getting pulled by your presence alone.
You're quiet, reserved, and always keep things to yourself. You refuse to speak up unless you were asked. You refuse to back down and would take Rick's side no matter how messy things get.
It's confusing.
Are you part of the group, because you like all of them? Or are you part of the group, because it's beneficial for you—
“If you're not going to help them like you said, then I will.” You grumbled under your breath and stood up, feeling slightly annoyed to see Glenn just standing by the doorway of the living room and simply staring at you.
Glenn snapped out of his thoughts, his face paling a little when he realized that he had stared at you longer than he intended.
“No!” He exclaimed and rushed to stop you, hands holding your arm and pushing you back down into the couch. “Just sit down and rest, okay? Me and T-Dog got it. You don't have to move.”
You let out a grunt, eyes flickering up to look at him. “You sure? I got enough rest already and T-Dog is injured, I can help—”
“Don't bother.”
You stopped yourself from finishing your sentence when you heard Rick's voice cut through the air, his footsteps echoing slightly in the room as he made his way to your and Gelnn’s spots.
“Go, Glenn.” Rick ordered, making the asian man nod his head and rush out.
You watched Glenn walk out of the house, jogging his way towards the shade of the trees up front. You wanted to help, to make yourself useful, to offer service towards the man who didn't deserve to die, but you knew that Rick wouldn't let you.
“I heard from Hershel that you gave more blood than I did.” Rick started, walking in front of you to block your sight of the door. “Thank you. If it weren't for you, he wouldn't have pulled through.”
“Don't sweat it.” You muttered, tearing your gaze away and focusing on the floor instead.
“No, (last name).” The cop insisted and got down on your eye level, kneeling on his right knee, his arm resting on his knee as he looked at you. “You've done more than enough, more than I did, and I'll be forever grateful for that.”
“Mmn.” You grunted, keeping your eyes down on the floor.
The cop stared at you for a moment before he got off his knee and sighed. He knew that you've been extra silent for the past few days. He could tell, and he knew that others could tell, too. Unfortunately, no one knows why— that much is obvious.
He could see you interacting more with Glenn and T-Dog though, but based on what he had heard earlier, he figured that Glenn doesn't know what's wrong also.
“Alright.” Rick sighed, raising a hand to massage his jaw. “I'll go check on Carl.”
“Mhmm.” You hummed, still not looking at him.
Rick cast one last glance at your hunch figure, then he made his way through the living room to get to Carl's temporary room.
This is for the best. You thought, eyebrows furrowing.
It's decided. You will separate yourself from the group after the farm burns into ashes— by then, Shane is dead and no one will be able to threaten him. They will be able to get through winter, because they have Rick, Maggie, Daryl, T-Dog, and Glenn protecting them.
If you were to continue sticking with them, you'll just be another mouth to feed. They’ll have to worry about another person. They already have Hershel, Beth, Lori, and Carl to worry about, so if you tagged along with them, you’ll be just a burden. It’s not like you’re saying the four latter are a burden, but you will be.
You don’t want to be a burden to the group.
After an hour of just rotting on the couch, the door swung open and those who had prepared the funeral walked in. Maggie made a beeline towards you, making you blink at her in confusion.
“Did you have a good night's rest?” Maggie asked, taking a seat on the vacant spot beside you.
You responded with a nod of your head.
“That's a relief..” The woman mumbled, her eyes trailing down onto the floor. “Thank you.. About.. You know, last night. You were tired, but you still listened.”
“Mhmm.”
“I wasn't expecting you and Glenn to do that, because of.. You know, but.. The two of you made it feel better.” Maggie added quietly, forcing her eyes up to take a glance at your face. “You're a good person. A really good person.”
Her words touched a sensible part of you, even though you weren't supposed to. You didn't mean to eavesdrop on their conversation last night, either, but after Maggie found out from Shane that Otis had sacrificed himself for the boy— which is a load of bullshit, by the way, Maggie stormed off.
You got worried. You knew Glenn would be there for her, but you eavesdropped anyway and got caught. Instead of getting mad and sending you away, both Glenn and Maggie made you stay. Maggie started babbling and crying about her step mother, step brother, and her neighbors.
She talked about the good times they had before everything went to shit, before walkers roamed the surface, before the new world hit the fan. You could only listen to her, unable to say or do anything. Apparently, that was enough to make her feel better.
You're a good person, she says, but you don't feel the same.
You're not a good person— you're far from it. A good person wouldn't utter lies after lies, wouldn't pretend that they're someone who can do good, wouldn't pretend that they matter when they actually don't. You're not a good person, and hearing Maggie say it makes your heart ache.
You're a good person.
Yaica used to say the same thing, her voice always smooth and soft, while comforting you whenever you're having self deprecating thoughts.
Thinking back to those days, you couldn't help, but think of the other three people you love.
Wanna go out and walk? Yasmin would ask you out of nowhere, without context or anything— not waiting for your response either, but you knew deep down that she was able to tell that something is up when you go quiet instead of bantering with her like usual.
Do you want me to make your favorite drink? Lawrence would ask, but whenever he did, he would have it ready and just have to give it to you.
You wanna play or you wanna watch something? Camille often asks when she could sense that something is wrong, because unlike the previous three, she's not that fan of moving too much and would rather stay in one place.
The four of them have their own ways of showing they care and you love them for it. You know that if shits start to go down, they will always have your back like how you have Rick's back. Their loyalty is something that you will never trade for anything in the world, but the universe has a funny way of tearing loyal people apart.
You buried your face in your hands, and Maggie knew that you're not in the right state of mind to actually continue a conversation. With a single pat on your shoulder, Maggie quietly excused herself and walked out of the house.
You let yourself drown in your own thoughts, the memories of your little sisters and younger cousins flashing right before your eyes like a goddamn movie. You remembered vividly how fun it was for all of you to rewatch the show— to get annoyed at Shane and Andrea together, to cuss Merle out and other stupid characters, to cheer and gush over your favorite characters.. You remembered the moments clearly, and maybe that's why you can't feel yourself accepting this is your reality now.
After who knows how long, Maggie and the others finally walked back inside the house.
As usual, for the past couple of days, Glenn and T-Dog plopped themselves down on either side of you on the couch, their shoulders tense and their gazes glued on the doorway that leads to where Carl is currently confined.
While staring at the empty doorway, particular sounds came from the front of the house.
The sound of the RV, the truck, and Daryl's motorcycle reached your ears, catching everyone else's attention and making them stand up from their own respective places.
“I'll get them.” T-Dog stated and stood up, walking across the room to get Rick and Lori.
“I’ll see what I can do to help.” Glenn mumbled, pushing himself off the couch as well and strode through the room to get to the front door, not even bothering to wait for your response. He didn’t even shoot you a look and just left you alone.
Whatever.. It's okay, it's their moment to shine. You told yourself before sinking back into the couch.
You don't know why Glenn brushing you off like that hurt you, but you convinced yourself that it's for the best, that keeping them at arm's length is better than hurting yourself later when you have to go. Still though, it stung the hell out of you.
Sighing quietly to yourself, you pushed yourself off the couch and decided to just take a look at Carol. Though you already know that she has Daryl, it wouldn't hurt to check on the grieving mother. So, following behind Patricia and Jimmy as they exited the house, you walked through the door with a slight stagger.
“Hunting accident.” Rick informed everyone present, the relief in his voice evident. “That's all. Just a stupid accident.”
You leaned against the railing of the porch and watched as they looked at Rick with different expressions— some were relieved, some were neutral, and some looked like they had been blessed by the Messiah. Seeing that all of them have their own opinion about Carl's situation, you pivoted in your heels to go back inside.
“Rick, what happened to (last name)?”
Of course, the sweetest woman of the group had to notice you, which made the other people turn their attention to you, causing you to stiffen.
“She.. She did a few blood transfusions.” The sheriff answered, his voice trailing off as if he was looking for the right words. “Pretty sure that Hershel drew more blood from her than mine. Thanks to her also, Carl became stable.”
“She gave me blood, too.” T-Dog spoke up, making them look at him.
Great. Now they'll think I did something good. You grumbled in your mind, swinging the door open and walking back inside.
Everyone watched as you stormed off— well, tried to storm off, but storming off is far from what you did, because you were staggering in your feet and were extremely pale in comparison to Rick.
“What's her problem?” Daryl scoffed.
“She probably went back in to check on Carl.” Rick stated, placing both of his hands on his hips while keeping his gaze trained on the closed screen door, eyebrows furrowed in worry.
“She was the one who helped Carl when he got shot while I was in shock after all.”
Previous chapter, next chapter.
In the world of TWD, 023.
Summary:
You woke up in the world of TWD, and you fought so hard to not change the plot of the show, to not get too close— afraid that you'll end up with more losses than not. However, the more time you spend with them, interact with them, laugh and smile with them.. You realize that you're slowly getting attached to every single one of them.
Still, you try not to socialize much, because you don't want to get hurt when a character dies. But.. Certain people is real stubborn.
By the time you have walked out of the house, the sky is dark and the surroundings are filled with the sound of critters, the caws of crows, the rustling of leaves in the soft evening breeze.
You left Lori and Rick inside the room with Carl and Hershel, figuring out that they need some time to think whether they'll let Hershel operate a surgery on their little boy.
You didn't have to follow through their conversations. You already know what's going to happen— whether you like it or not, because the plot will flow and won't change a damn thing, even if you try to make do with preventing the damage.
You stumbled out on the porch, just in time for Glenn to come up the stairs and catch you.
“You look like shit.” The asian man commented, his arms tightening around you as he assisted you walk to the rocking chair by the porch, and once you two were close enough, he slowly lowered you by the chair and made sure that you were comfortable in your seat before he let go of you.
You let out a shuddering breath, your eyes drooping. God, you're so tired and just want to sleep, but you know that you need to do another transfusion once Shane comes back.
“Did you do blood transfusions?” Glenn asked, making you open your eyes and flicker your gaze at him. “You look so pale, and no offense, you look pretty close to a walker. I wouldn't be surprised if the others mistake you for one.”
“Jerk.” You uttered, head lolling back to the backrest. “Yeah, I had two. Both me and Rick.”
At the mention of Rick, Glenn and T-Dog perked up. They shared a glance, worried looks settling on their faces. You didn't have to turn around to see their expressions and just settled on waving them off. As you do so, the screen door swung open and Maggie stepped out, her eyes finding your curled form before looking at the two men in front of you.
“Hey, you need to rest.” She called, ignoring the men and walking over to your spot. “Rick and you will need to give more blood. Your pineapple juice is ready, but this is not the appropriate place for you to drink it, nor is it a proper place to rest.”
“Here's fine.” You grumbled, closing your eyes.
Maggie stilled and pursed her lips, but she didn't push further. She turned to look at T-Dog and Glenn, her arms closing around herself.
“Well, nice to see you again.” The asian man greeted, loading his gaze to the floor. “We met before briefly.”
“Look, we came to help.” T-Dog mumbled, his eyelids drooping low due to his fever and looking as bad as you do, if not worse, as clear his throat weakly, “Is there anything we can do?”
Maggie walked over, her eyes trained on the wound in his arm.
“It's not a bite.” The man assured almost immediately, not wanting to alarm Maggie, as he shuffled his weight on his feet. “I cut myself pretty bad though.”
“We'll have it looked at.” Maggie said, glancing at the wound once more. “I'll tell them you're here.”
“We have some painkillers and antibiotics.” Glenn spoke up before Maggie could open the screen door, rummaging through the contents of his backpack. “I already gave him some, but here, just in case Carl needs any.”
“Come inside.” Maggie invited them, briefly glancing at the pills and opening the door. “I'll make you something to eat.”
The three of them left you outside, finally giving you the peace you needed. You don't really need anything right now except for a quick peace of mind, but that seems to be asking a lot for the past few weeks, considering the state of the world.
You don't care though. You melted further into the chair, your eyes shutting as you let the breeze brush past your body.
Just as you felt yourself slipping into the dreamland, the sound of the door swinging open startled you awake. You looked over, eyes squinting to focus on the person who had walked out of the house.
Your gaze clashed with Lori's, and when she saw you, she walked over, eyes glossy with unshed tears and hands jittery at her sides.
You offered her a nod and she returned it before she settled on the vacant rocking chair beside you. Not a minute after she walked out, the door swung open again and Rick came out, his head swiveling left and right to look for someone.
When his eyes landed on the two of you, he slowly trudged his way over.
“Maybe this isn't a world for children anymore.” Lori mumbled once Rick got close enough, her hands wrapping around herself to comfort herself, her eyes glued to the vast field in front of Hershel's farm.
“Yeah, well, we have a child.” Rick responded, looking out of the field as well. “Carl is here in this world now—”
“Maybe he shouldn't be.” Lori interjected quickly, turning her head to look at her husband who was fast to look back at her, unable to hear the words that had come out of her mouth, “Maybe this isn't how it's supposed to be.”
“You can't mean that.” Rick hissed softly, and you could tell that he was getting agitated.
You wondered why this married couple had to have this kind of conversation in front of you. Why do they have to be around you whenever they need to talk? Why do they have to seek your presence when one of them is in need of comfort? Why do they have to let you listen to them argue? it's not your job. It's not your role. They're not your responsibility.
You're slowly trying to detach yourself from them. You've repeated this to yourself so many times, because you don't want to endanger anyone else in the group. Unfortunately, all of them are really stubborn and somehow could find a way to look for you.
The silence stretched between the two of them, and one look from Lori was enough to tell Rick that she was dead serious with what she was saying.
“Okay.” Rick breathed out, nodding. “Alright, I can understand that thought crossing your mind.”
“It didn't cross my mind, Rick.” Lori corrected him immediately, stopping her husband from speaking again, “I can't stop thinking about it. Why do we want Carl to live in this world? To have this life? So he can see more people torn apart in front of him? So that he can be hungry and scared for however long he has before he..”
Lori trailed off, struggling to spit the words out, but she swallowed and continued, “So he can run and run and run and run, and then, even if he survives, he ends up.. He ends up just another animal who doesn't know anything except survival?”
Lori paused, her tears falling down, sniffling. “If he.. If he dies tonight, it ends for him. Tell me why it would be better another way.”
Rick inhaled sharply, turning his back to the two of you to gather his thoughts. You could tell that he was trying to calm down as much as he could, but it was hard to do when his own wife— the mother of his son, is telling him that Carl is better off dead.
Truthfully, you know that they both have a point, so you can't say anything to side with one of them.
“What changed?” Rick hissed, crouching down to look at Lori in eye level, “Jenner offered us a way out. You asked him to let us keep trying. You begged him, for as long as we could, you said. What changed?”
At this point, their argument is what's going to make you fall asleep in the rocking chair, and honestly, it is.
You lolled your head back to the backrest and sighed, tuning out the rest of the conversation and letting yourself relax on the seat. You don't want to hear anymore of their conversation, already knowing what kind of conclusion they'll land into.
Besides, you could use a little background noise to sleep and the two of them arguing is the perfect background noise.
Humming under your breath, you let yourself fall asleep.
“(Last name)? Hey, (last name).”
Someone was calling you. You can hear it through the thick fog in your consciousness, but you feel too sleepy and drowsy to open your eyes. You could recognize Glenn's and Maggie's voices among the fog in your mind.
“Shit, she's not waking up.” Glenn cursed, his hand planting on either side of your arms.
“She hasn't drunk her pineapple juice yet.” Maggie stated, her voice dripping with panic. “This is why I told her that she needs to go inside to rest. The evening air is cold. It's not appropriate for someone who just had a blood transfusion.”
“Here, here, here.” Glenn muttered, kneeling down in front of you. “I'll try to carry her—”
Hearing those words stirred you awake, causing both Maggie and Glenn to jump when you suddenly kicked your legs out under your weight.
“Holy shit, you scared me.” Glenn gasped, his hand landing on your right leg.
“So.. Sorry.” You mumbled, shifting in your seat as you tried to shake the sleep away, you slowly blinked once, twice, thrice, “Is it time for me to do a transfusion? Wait, let me just get my bearings together—”
“No, no, no.” Glenn cut you off, stopping you from standing up. “We just wanted you to go inside.”
“And drink the pineapple juice.” Maggie added.
“Huh?” You grumbled, eyebrows furrowing as you looked at the future couple, unable to understand why they're fussing over you this much. You could understand Glenn, but Maggie? Maggie met you just today.
It's probably the guilt talking. You concluded, letting yourself fall back down to the chair. You groaned, the discomfort that shot through your spine causing you to become slightly agitated. You feel like your bones are cracking one by one, like they needed their gears oiled to work properly.
“Come on.” Maggie urged you, grabbing you on the arm with Glenn quickly grabbing onto the other.
“Careful.” The asian man chided softly, making you scoff, to which he shook his head in response, “Geez.. I swear to god. Day by day, you're slowly becoming Daryl. You can handle yourself just fine, sure, but when you need help, you refuse. Can’t you just be quiet and accept help?”
“I'll take that as a compliment.” You mumbled, ignoring the rest of his sentence and letting Maggie tug you inside the house.
“Well, it's not.” Glenn huffed.
“It sounds like one to me.” You retorted, snorting as you got dragged towards the dining table, letting yourself take a seat in one of the chairs when Maggie forced you down to it. “Dixon's got a real talent and skills when it comes to survival, so what you said back there is a compliment.”
“And I'm telling you it's not.” Glenn insisted, shooting a frown in your way.
Maggie quietly excused herself from the two of you and left the room. You could more or less guess that she went away to get your pineapple juice, but you're not sure.
Instead of worrying about Maggie, you turned away and stared at Glenn, eyebrows raised in confusion. What got his panty in a twist? Why is he worrying about you now? He's not that worried about you back at the highway, but he's up on your ass right now. Isn't he supposed to be fussing over T-Dog? The man had spiked a fever from the cut he got when the herd appeared on the highway, no?
Speaking of which, where is the guy? You looked around, your eyes scanning the room for T-Dog.
Unfortunately, he was nowhere.
“Hey.” You called Glenn, tapping your finger on the table’s surface to get his attention, “Where’s T? I haven't seen him since you two got here.”
“He's at the back—” Maggie answered as she walked through the doorway, holding a glass of pineapple juice in her right hand, but she got cut off when a sound of a car approaching reached her ears.
“Shane’s here.” You stated, standing up from your chair and rushing towards the door.
Glenn was quick to run to your side and held out a hand to make sure that you wouldn't stumble on your feet, but you kept walking and even pushed past the married couple to take a look at Shane's state.
“Carl?” Shane asked, eyes blown wide.
“There's still a chance.” Rick answered, limping a little towards his best friend.
Hershel and Glenn walked past you to help Shane with the bags, but before the doctor turned in his heels and went back inside, he stopped in his tracks when he noticed that a certain someone wasn't with Shane.
“Otis?” Hershel inquired, eyes looking past Shane.
“No.” The cop murmured, the look on his face was crazy— his eyes dilated, blown wide, as he shook his head.
The silence that settled on everyone was loud and you wanted nothing, but to punch Shane right then and there to make him confess for the crime he had committed to the Greene family.
You remembered getting so worked up when you watched this scene, gritting your teeth, screaming at Shane, and pointing fingers at him for lying.
You wondered why it wasn't in your mind when Shane left with Otis earlier, you should have stopped the motherfucker from leaving with the other man, but thinking back, you were in a situation with Carl and Rick. You had to focus your attention on the father and son, making sure that Carl got enough blood from both of you, with you keeping Rick on his toes.
When Hershel, Glenn, and T-Dog rushed inside the house, with Rick comforting his lying best friend. Your eyes clashed with Shane's crazy eyes.
The two of you did a stare down for a moment, but it was him who backed down.
Previous chapter, next chapter.
In the world of TWD, 022.
Summary:
You woke up in the world of TWD, and you fought so hard to not change the plot of the show, to not get too close— afraid that you'll end up with more losses than not. However, the more time you spend with them, interact with them, laugh and smile with them.. You realize that you're slowly getting attached to every single one of them.
Still, you try not to socialize much, because you don't want to get hurt when a character dies. But.. Certain people is real stubborn.
Both you and Rick walked out of the house, with him holding you upside against him because you had just finished giving Carl your blood.
You feel light headed and nauseous, but you knew it had to be done.
“Carefully.” Rick grunted out, before bringing you over to the porch’s railing and had you lean your weight against it, with his hand staying on your upper back just in case, “Stay seated here. Don't want you running off somewhere, too.”
“It's not like I can walk on my own right now.” You grumbled, leaning your head into the pillar beside you. “I feel like shit. It's not a feeling you want to feel when looking for someone.”
“Fair point.” Rick chuckled dryly, placing his free hand on his hip as he looked out into the distance.
The air between you two grew silent, unspoken words lingering and hanging above your heads like a guillotine, but neither of you wanted to speak, so you let the silence hang comfortably.
Not a minute after the two of you walked out of the house, the front door creaked open.
Rick looked over, eyebrows furrowed, before looking away to admire the entirety of Hershel's farm. “This place is beautiful.”
“Been in my family 160 years.” Hershel huffed out, proud.
“I can't believe how serene it is.” Rick commented, turning to look at the doctor again. “How untouched. You're lucky.”
“We.. We weren't completely unscathed.” Hershel grumbled, keeping his eyes on the field in front of his house, a look of sadness crossing his gaze, “We lost friends, neighbors. The epidemic took my wife, my stepson.”
“I’m sorry.” The cop said, lowering his gaze.
“My daughters were spared.” Hershel added, casting a brief glance towards Rick. “I'm grateful to God for that. These people here, all we have left of each other. Just hoping we can ride it out in peace ‘till there's a cure.”
“Cure.” You echoed, voice low and quiet, as you snorted.
“What's so funny, girl?” The old man asked, his gaze flickering towards the back of your head.
There's no cure, Hershel. Everyone is infected. You thought, leaning all of your weight against the pillar beside you and ignoring him, just letting yourself become invisible as much as you could before Lori arrives.
It's her job to soothe Rick's pain, not yours. When you offered comfort towards the crying cop, Hershel mistook you as his wife. It made you uncomfortable— super uncomfortable. Rick is a married man and Lori is still alive. Being mistaken as someone's wife when that someone is married to a living person makes you feel sick to your stomach.
You have to set a clear boundary. You let out a sigh, and Rick took that as a cue to tell Hershel what happened back at the CDC.
“We were at the CDC.” The former sheriff started, his eyes looking out in the field once more. “It's gone now. Exploded. There is no cure.”
But of course, the old man is stubborn.
“I don't believe it.” Hershel chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “When AIDS came along, everyone panicked. One boy in town came down with it and some parents pulled their children from school, so they didn't have to sit in the same room.”
“This is a whole other thing, doc.” You grumbled, making both men look at you.
“That's what we always say..” Hershel rebutted to your words, causing you to let out a deep breath and shake your head in disappointment. “This one's different.”
“Well, this one is.” Rick insisted.
“Mankind has been fighting plagues from the start.” Hershel huffed, the stubbornness in his voice loud and clear. “We get our behinds kicked for a while, then we bounce back. It's nature correcting herself, restoring some balance.”
“I wish I could believe that.” The cop sighed, looking away from Hershel to glance at the field.
You could see Maggie and Lori from your spot, so you're sure that Rick and Hershel could see them, too. The sheriff deputy didn't waste any time to let go of your back and walked around the doctor to get down the porch steps, meeting his wife halfway.
“That's his wife.” You muttered, causing Herself to look at you. “They've been married since before shit hit the fan.”
Rick and Lori rushed inside the house, not bothering to give the doctor a look. Hershel didn't stop them, just letting them run towards their unconscious little boy. He knows he’s in no place to comment about your relationship with anyone. You’re a stranger.
“Huh.” The veterinarian mumbled, tearing his gaze away from the screen door. “I'm sorry for assuming.”
“No need.” You huffed, weakly waving him off with your left hand, “I suggest walking inside to check up on them. Rick looks like he will collapse any moment now, you know?”
“You look as bad as him.” Maggie commented, her gaze flickering towards you.
“Touche.” You chuckled, but the sound was forced.
The father and daughter could tell that it was a forced one, but they decided to not just comment on it. Maggie sent her father a nod before walking away with the horse she used to pick up Lori from the group.
“Come on.” Hershel spoke up and walked over to the door. “The little boy needs more blood.”
“Can't Rick do it for now?”
“Rick first, then you.” Hershel explained, opening the screen door and waiting for you. “We can't take too much blood from him and risk him collapsing. There's two of you, so we'll make do with you, too.”
You pursed your lips and didn't move for a second. You wanted to see if Herself is testing you,or kidding you. When you were watching the show, Rick did just fine donating blood to his son— albeit he looked like a ghost after every transfusion, but he still managed to do it just fine.
So, what's the difference now?
“(Last name).” Hershel called you once more, his tone sounding a little firm. “Come on.”
“Alright.” You grumbled, swinging your legs and planting your feet down onto the porch. “I was hoping that I'll get to let my heart pump more blood for me before it's my turn to give blood, but I guess not.”
Hershel didn't say anything to that and let you walk inside the house first. He made sure to see you walk inside the room where Carl was before he followed behind you. He walked inside the room, his eyes landing on his stethoscope and the blood pressure monitor on the bedside table.
You walked over to the vacant seat and settled yourself over it, your hand quickly finding purchase on your head.
Half an hour passed and Rick was done donating his blood to his son. Patricia walked over to the chair Rick was sitting on and pulled the needle out before turning to Carl to pull out the needle from his arm.
Rick stood up, legs wobbling.
“Slow, slow, slow.” Lori mumbled, holding out a hand to assist her husband back to his seat. “How many transfusions?”
“Two.” Rick answered, breathing ragged. “Only two.”
Lori paused for a second, then shook her head. “He wanted to do the same for you when you were in the hospital. I had to talk him out of it.”
You and Rick snorted at that, making Lori look at you.
“If you knew how much Carl was devastated when he couldn't do a transfusion for both you and his dad, you would have a hard time making him stop crying, too.” Lori huffed, the tone of her voice light-hearted, but you could tell that she was telling the truth.
You forced a smile on your face and nodded. Honestly, you can't remember much about what happened, about what happened to you for you to be shot, and how bad the wound was for you to be sent to the hospital.
When you woke up, you didn't feel any pain in your body. You haven't checked properly— especially back at the CDC, but you know for sure that you weren't shot. If you were, you would have been as disoriented as Rick when he first came around, but you weren't. You were far from disoriented.
Rick and the others who knew you told you that you're a computer genius, but what really is your work?
You could hunt, you could handle a knife just fine, you could throw the said knife with lethal precision, you could see trails only a seasoned hunter could see, you could differentiate a trail from a human to an animal, and you could climb trees as if you were a monkey.
An office lady who's a computer genius couldn't have known how to do those things, right?
What was the (Full name) of this world doing? What was she doing before she settled in Rick's town? What was her goal approaching the main cast of the show?
You have so many unanswered questions, but all that is left is a deafening silence. You still have a few fragments in your mind, but the memories left on your brain aren't enough to actually give you the full backstory of the body you're inhabiting. You could only trust the snippets Rick, Lori, and Carl are telling you, but you don't know how many more of those snippets will come up in the near future.
Silently, you watched as the married couple walked out of the room, leaving you, Patricia, and Hershel.
You stood up from your chair and walked over to where Rick was previously sitting, then you dropped your whole weight into it, making the chair creak unceremoniously. Patrica didn't seem to mind at all, because she merely grabbed your arm and looked at your skin to see where she could stab the needle.
“Have you and Rick known each other for a long time?” Hershel asked, just in time for Patricia to push the needle into your skin.
You flinched and let out a groan, but you didn't pull away.
“Yeah, it seems so.. What about it?” You answered, your eyes squeezing shut as you bear with the stinging sensation of the needle left behind.
“Seems so?” The doctor prodded, pulling the stethoscope away from his ears.
“Can't remember much.” You grumbled, slowly cracking your eyes open when you felt Patricia pat your shoulder. “They said I was shot, but I really can't remember much. I just woke up in the hospital with Rick. That's it.”
“You were shot, but you can't remember?” Hershel repeated, turning his head to look at you. “Do you have any medical history that you remember about?”
You answered his question with a shake of your head.
You don't even know why you're entertaining the old man's inquiries. You haven't talked this much since you and Rick's group left the Quarry, but with Hershel, he made it feel like everything will be okay— that it's okay to let your guard down and be honest.
It's a weird feeling. It's the same feeling you get whenever you go to visit your grandfather and uncle.
Your grandfather.. He was a stoic, overzealous, pious man, but he's fair, he's just, and he's not always regarding every single thing in life from the Bible. He loves his family, and he's always there whenever his grandchildren need a helping hand about something. He's a man of a few words, but those few words always leave an impact on who it was directed at.
Your grandfather and Hershel, they're somehow the same. Stoic, but kind. Diplomatic, but would keep a job done.
Maybe that's why you feel safe and relaxed around Hershel. He looked kind of similar to your grandfather in a way— with his white hair and beard and all that shit.
You looked over to Hershel, finding him already staring at you, patiently waiting for your answer.
You huffed and shook your head, eyebrows furrowing. “Told you, didn't I? I can't remember much. I couldn't even remember why I was shot, or why I was in the hospital in the first place.”
“Perhaps you hit your head?” Hershel suggested, standing up from his seat. “Maybe you got shot and hit your head in the process. It's not uncommon to happen, but that could also be the case.”
“That's one hell of a hit then.” You muttered, shifting in your chair.
Previous chapter, next chapter.