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✫.*༄ DEATH PARADE…

synopsis! You were trained to run towards the fire. The apocalypse only changed what was burning.After a supply run through Atlanta tears your found family apart, you're left wounded, desperate, and searching for the people you couldn't save. When your path crosses with a certain Southerner, an uneasy alliance is forged as you fight to reclaim the ones you've lost. Sometimes surviving is the easiest part.

content! mdni!, angst, hurt ans comfort, fluff, slow burn, complicated feelings, pinning, blood and violence, daryl is bad at feelings, eventual smut, ptsd, trauma, and death, oh and minor oc's added to the story

set! season 5 onwards

pairing! daryl dixon x reader

note! next chapter I will finally explore more of the relationship between reader and daryl! I’m happy with how I’ve developed reader and her own little plot. so now we are in alexandria, I can expand it and do some canon divergence but I will still have the shows canon following every now and then.

005, A PLACE TO CALL HOME.

Night had officially set, stars shone like sugar spilt over black marble. The night sky was such a welcome sight, promising to return as it faded into dawn's first light. You found this sight far more hypnotizing than the sunrise that morning, it would discard the groups shadows and faces.

However, there was no denying you would often miss the sun peeking through the sky, as it was a reward to you.

A reward to prove you had lived another day.

The day had passed by swiftly, after interrogating Aaron more and convincing him not to lead them to his community the way he wished, they had a long journey ahead.

Rick had plans, which Aaron protested, to go another route than offered.

The group decided amongst themselves to split up into two vehicles Aaron had concealed away from the barn; you opted to be a bodyguard in Aaron's car. You had to convince Finley to stay with Abraham, Daryl, Carol and a few others in the RV.

Which forced you to promise to 'stay safe'.

This led to Michonne and yourself wedging Aaron between them both in the back seats of his car, while Rick and Glenn opted for the front of the vehicle. You held your pistol out, pointing towards Aaron's knee.

An order Rick gave, which Michonne chose to ignore, but you obeyed due to the man's conflicted behaviour.

"Is this all really necessary?" Aaron questioned, lifting his hand which was still bound and nodding towards the gun while meeting your tense gaze. "I've made it very clear I'm not a threat."

You shrugged, jutting out her cracked lips. "Like you said 'we're being cautious', I'm sure you understand," you repeated his own words, patronisingly.

This seemed to shut him up, nodding and turning away from you without another word.

The humming of the old car was all that filled the air for a brief moment, everyone's face contoured in concentration. Everyone was mentally preparing themselves for the unknown.

The idea of a community was an odd one.

Since the beginning, you were with Javier and Finley, of course, they had settled a few times with other groups but it barely lasted a month. It was always about moving, never settling. But, deep down inside you was aware of all the horrors Finley had faced.

The girl was hardly sixteen and she had gone through so much. She deserved time to heal and grieve.

A place to call home. Even for a little while.

Rick reached forward in the passenger seat and popped open the glove box. The light from the box revealed a plethora of licence plates. Head tilting, you proceeded to shoot a perplexed glance towards Aaron.

"Oh, I'm trying to collect all fifty states," Aaron clarified with a small smile. "To put them all on a wall, in my house."

"You have your own house?" Michonne questioned, clearly shocked by his statement.

Aaron nodded towards the woman. "Yeah, see for yourself." He pointed towards his pack which was sitting in her shoe well.

Michonne eagerly opened the front pockets, to retrieve the discarded photos from before. You watched her tentatively, Michonne's once intrigued face turned into a confused one.

Something was off.

"Why don't you have any pictures of your people?" She questioned before handing them over to you, quickly holstering your weapon to see.

Glancing through them all, you were shocked.

There were walls, solar panels and even crops. It was a dream come true in this hellhole, however, Michonne was right. The lack of people was concerning, surely they'd want to show off their hard work and happy community.

Michonne turned to Rick, after seeing you wear a similar face to her. "Have you asked him the questions?" She questioned.

A heavy sigh escaped Rick, before shaking his head. You remembered the questions being asked, after the ordeal at the hospital. It was some weird questionnaire Rick needed, to analyse people.

Your own answers were nothing out of the ordinary, too many walkers and a few people who deserved it.

"How many walkers have you killed?" Michonne opted to ask them, her intense gaze never leaving a bewildered Aaron. When he didn't answer, she pressed again. "How many?"

Everyone in the car was listening tentatively, this was vital information to everyone. The tension was detectable, Aaron could sense all eyes were somehow lingering on him.

"I don't know...A lot," Aaron stuttered, sweat now glazing his forehead.

"How many people?"

You waited patiently, heart steady, watching the man's face drop. "Two," He muttered solemnly.

"Why?"

"Because they tried to kill me," Aaron fumbled over his words once more.

The answers he presented were no different from your own, they seemed sincere, having killed to stay alive.

Until Rick revealed a bigger problem. Rick pulled out a contraption, it looked similar to a megaphone. It seemed to hit them all at once.

"You were listening to us?" Glenn exclaimed, with wide eyes. Your heart sank at the words.

Before Aaron attempted to explain himself, Rick was quick to cut him off. "His people could've had one, they could've heard our plan. This isn't safe!" Rick began to yell, nodding towards you to hold up your weapon once more.

Suddenly, before anyone could process the situation, Glenn cursed out loud.

Glenn was now mowing down the dead ones, in the road, each thump heavier than the last. You clutched tightly to Rick's headrest, as the car began to rock forcefully. The windshield, which once revealed the hypnotizing night, was now smothered in crimson-red liquid.

Heart now racing, mimicking each hit to the dead. Dismembered body parts clung to the vehicle, as they tried to ride out the bumps in the road. Soon, the blood on the window became intolerable for Glenn to peek through.

Screeching to an abrupt stop, your head hit Aaron's causing you to grunt in pain.

"Fuck," you seethed rubbing your temple. Still rubbing your head, you decided to take a glance out of the passenger window seeing a herd approaching. "There's more heading this way!"

Glenn, Michonne and Rick nodded before scrambling out of the car, while you raised your gun to a flabbergasted Aaron.

"Don't you fucking move," you threatened through heavy breaths. Aaron seemed to melt into his seat but continued to analyze the scene with a fear stricken face.

"I don't see them, they must've gotten away," Glenn called while wiping down the windshield, spearing the red liquid.

Michonne stayed situated by the car door, keeping a watchful eye on the walkers up ahead while Rick scrambled for a plan in the car.

Aaron turned to Michonne, "They're okay?" She nodded in response.

Rick began to list off orders to Glenn, as he attempted to start the engine of the car. An unhealthy splutter was heard, not putting much confidence in the group. The car wasn't starting and they had a herd heading straight for them.

You felt compelled to help the group, the doom settling into your bones, so you decided to lower the weapon and escape the car.

Michonne followed, ready to hold off the stray bodies shuffling for them. Readying her katana on the left side, while you readied your axe on the right.

"I'll cover you, just help with the car!" Michonne called to you.

Obeying, you stalked over to the bonnet of the car, you analyzed the damage.

Mud and blood had accumulated below the wheels, well and truly stuck.

You needed to think fast, it was the only way to get to the others. One of the dead staggered towards Michonne, as she fended off others.

Quickly, kicking the knee of the walker it collapsed, giving you time to land two lethal blows with the axe. To add to the bloodshed that night, more sprayed across your irritated face.

This was going to be a long night, even if they made their way out of this hurricane of blood and flesh. Another lingered behind you and you grunted while retrieving the weapon that was deep in a skull, already tired of the continuous setbacks.

Again, you eliminated it using the same technique.

More of them pushed forward, funnelling through the bushes that surrounded the group. That’s when it clicked, you needed to add traction for the wheels.

With that thought, you bounced back over to the bonnet of the car. Michonne was pulling dismembered limbs from it.

“Glenn, I have an idea!” You exclaimed, over the growls of the beasts. “Grab branches! Anything dry. We need something under the tires for traction!”

They couldn't fight this off, adrenaline was coursing through your veins like an electric shock.

Glenn, scrambled, obeying your order. Plucking the shrubbery and shoveling it under the mud covered wheels.

"We need to hurry!" You yelled over the growls of the creatures while attempting to wipe the blood from your face. All the while, snatching at the plants.

"Hold on!" Rick called from within the car, capturing your attention. The man staring up, high above you.

Turning, you spotted it.

A glimmer of light trailed amongst the dark clouds, a flare.

You couldn't watch it for too long, as you heard a frantic cry from within the car. Both Michonne and yourself raced over, shocked by the flare.

"Did you see that?" Michonne called to the group but was soon cut short by the door slamming into her.

You watched with wide eyes, as Michonne's body collapsed to the near grass and Aaron scarped out.

Quickly, you sped towards the woman and swiftly lifted her from the floor. The pair nodded at one another before attempting to chase after him, determined to capture him once more.

"Come on," Michonne shouted to you. Both neglecting the car.

Before they could escape into the foliage of the nearby forest, Rick hollered after them. "Leave him! We need to find our people!"

"I'm not letting him get to his people, they might already have ours," you shouted back, breathing heavily. Allowing the adrenaline in your veins to dictate your movements, reaching for your pistol.

Your heart was hammering in your ribcage, after fighting tirelessly. This wasn't going to be for nothing.

Michonne seemed to agree. "They saw that flare. They'll think we shot it. This is how we find them," she rambled before running ahead with you.

With that, the group of four raced through the forest and abandoned the car. Taking weapons in hand, they set out to reach everyone. Some of the dead had followed, so they had to handle them swiftly.

You breathed in deeply, heart protesting, while aiming down the pistol's iron sight. Squeezing the trigger a few times, two fell. Glenn copied your actions picking off the leftovers. The pistol in your hand felt old, you missed the old shotgun.

Which was still discarded in the city, after the kidnapping.

It was perfect for desperate times.

More appeared, too many of them.

"Shit," you cursed, checking the ammo clip to see. Another curse fell from her lips, grabbing your axe once more. "I'm low!"

Rick shot a few more and Michonne picked some off with her sword, the man turned and stared at you.

He nodded before grabbing Michonne's arm. "We gotta keep movin'," he called over the growls and groans.

However, you noticed the dead ones pressuring Glenn away from the group and further into tall shrubs.

"Glenn!" You yelled.

Gulping down all fear that tainted your bones, if you were low there was no doubt in your mind he was.

He wouldn't be able to pick them off alone.

"Come on," you seethed through gritted teeth.

The walkers surged between you and Glenn, swallowing him behind a wall of bodies.

“Shit,” you cursed, again.

Ignoring Rick's calls, axe tightly in hand, you decide to chase after the man.

A queue of walkers all scrambled towards their next meal, hungry for Glenn. You swung your axe, pushing through the shrubs, hitting anywhere on the dead. Careless with your swings, overwhelmed by the number of them.

Blood began to coat your vision, a few thuds following behind you.

Pushing past some of them, while stumbling on discarded branches, you called for the man again. Panic had struck you again, blinded and alone.

Why were you even out here?

Still stumbling through the forest, you began to wipe the flesh and blood from your irritated orbs.

When vision presented itself, a shocked gasp left your lips.

A dead one chucked its weight on top of you, forcing your form to fall to the soil. Axe falling beside you. Nothing to defend yourself.

The snapping of its jaw was all you could hear, as you struggled to hold it away with your strength.

You screamed, ribcage crying in pain. You needed to use all your strength, everything you could muster from your exhausted body.

Drawl began to drip onto your face, mixing into the flesh and blood that clung to your cheeks. Grimacing, you locked your shoulders before using your trained muscles to throw it off.

Before you could catch a breath, you vaulted on top of the dead one and adrenaline took control. Applying pressure with your thumbs while straining your neck muscles, crying through the squelch.

You drove your thumbs into its eyes and shoved with everything you had until it finally went limp.

Tired and dazed, you chucked yourself off it landing back on the soil. A few breaths were caught until you spotted a worried Glenn standing over you.

"You good?" He rushed over to you exhausted figures and offered you a hand up.

Which he instantly regretted.

Accepting his hand, the rotten flesh and brain matter smothered on your hands now smothered his.

"Nice," He grimaced and wiped his hand onto his trouser after checking you over.

"I'm good, I'm fine," you heaved and smeared blood-stained flesh onto your already bloody top as well. Were you telling yourself that or him?

More walkers were heard and you rolled your eyes with a defeated sigh, grabbing your discarded axe.

"We gotta go, Glenn. Come on,” you huffed.

The pair of you continued further into the forest, attempting to follow a path towards the flare. Both on high alert, weapons in hand.

Until a distant shout was heard, Aaron's distant scream. You were filled with rage and exhaustion, thanks to him, so you chased after the noise as did Glenn.

This guy almost cost your life, you weren't about to leave empty-handed after all that.

Then there he was, pinned to a tree and hands still tied.

Glenn seemed hesitant to help him but you were pleased to help him.

So, in seconds, you grabbed the walker by the collar and plunged your axe into its skull. It went limp and you were quick to release the hold on the axe, not caring for it currently, ready to give Aaron a piece of your mind.

Seeing you, Aaron panicked slightly and prepared to escape your threatening gaze but you had other ideas.

You drew your pistol again, leveling it at his forehead.

At this point, it almost felt routine. Having a gun trained to strangers heads.

“Was running worth it?” you seethed between ragged breaths. “Look at the shit you got us into.” Remnants of decayed flesh clinging to your lips, with each word.

Glenn called your name and walked towards you, and cut Aaron's hand ties causing you to furrow your brows. “We've got other things to worry about, than him."

Aaron still stood there shell shocked, staring at your gun. “Look I’m sorry I jus—“

You pressed the magazine release. The empty magazine dropped into your palm.

“Relax,” you muttered. “I wasn’t going to shoot you.” Showing the clip to him. "You can either lead us to your friends or stay here with my empty gun. Your choice." Finishing the sentence, you offered the weapon with a pointed gaze, chest still heaving in exhaustion and fury.

Aaron was bewildered by the threatening mind game but nodded quickly. "We can make it, together, but only together," Aaron echoed. You tilted your head, the line familiar to you. Glenn halted in his tracks before turning to him. "You said that, I was listening."

The memory of Glenn offering Daryl water, moments before your heartwarming exchange, flashed through your mind. He was listening to everything, does that mean he heard Daryl's and your own whole conversation?

Chills ran up your spine at the thought.

"It's settled then? No more pulling shit?" You glanced towards Aaron who nodded in response, as you grabbed the discarded axe.

Then shots were heard in the distance, Rick and Michonne.

"We gotta keep moving, our people need us." You needed to make sure they were all okay, and Finley.

Glenn was quick to offer you his pistol, due to his rifle still having enough ammo. Before racing towards the sound.

Both men stayed ahead while you were watching the rear, all of them coated in walker blood.

Aaron turned to stare at your steely expression, on high alert. "Hey, look I'm sorry for running. Both of you. It's just...that flare. I need to get to him, I need to get to him," He continued to mutter.

It was clear the man was worried and feared for the person on the other end of that flare, which is why he acted out.

"Keep moving, otherwise we won't reach them," you shot back.

Making your way through the forest, another gunshot was heard and this time it was far closer than the last. All of you sped up, as you heard Rick and Michonne call for you.

When you reached a clearing all of you spotted the two skilled fighters. Rick was aiming at a walker with his revolver but only clicks were heard, he was out too.

Thankfully, Glenn had enough ammo. So, the pair of you rushed towards the other two that were pinned.

Without hesitation, you and Glenn mowed down the cluster of walkers with the little ammo left.

After a few seconds, enough had been cleared to give everyone time. Rick and Michonne nodded at you, grateful for the save.

However, Rick’s face changed when he saw a free Aaron.

"If you really want to tie me back up, that's fine, just hurry." Aaron compromised with his hands raised.

Rick analysed the trio before him and noticed Glenn's reluctant face. "No time, we're going that way," Rick announced, pointing behind him.

All obeying his order, ready to escape this nightmarish night.

The trek ahead of them was long, or so it seemed, the blood and guts weighing heavy on your aching muscles.

Everyone was exhausted.

Glenn ached to be back in Maggie's arms, Rick and Michonne needed to see the two kids, and you needed to have Finley safe. You were aware the young girl would be safe, Finley would most likely be glued to Daryl and Carol both of who'd protect her.

Finley was also skilled to protect herself but the dreaded thoughts still plagued your mind.

Now, you were beside the water tower where the flare had been shot. Searching each dark alley and desolate turn, in hopes to see family. Rick was whistling every so often, to alert them nearby. Turning down another dark road, Rick attempted to reach them once more.

Silence.

A heavy sigh escaped you, they had to be close.

Suddenly, answering your prayers, another whistle was heard further down the road. All of your heads perked up, beginning to jog towards them.

Heart fluttering in relief at the sight of a familiar winged vest.

Daryl stood at the end of the road, beaconing them over.

Soon enough, the rest of the group revealed themselves all escaping from a building. Daryl and Finley soon made their way over to you and eyes softened at your face.

Before you could react, Finley crashed into you and embraced you tightly.

"Good to see you too, Finn," you chuckled tiredly and reciprocated the warm hug.

However, Finley was quick to release you while twisting her face. The young girl was now analyzing you and took a big whiff of your scent.

"Ew, you stink and look-"

"Like shit," Daryl finished the sentence for the kid.

You rolled your orbs up at the man, whose own eyes seemed to take note of your exhausted and bloody face.

A snicker left your dried lips. "Thanks, asshole,” you replied.

"You good?" He asked, noticing your flat expression.

Nodding with a heavy sigh, you patted Finn on the shoulder. "Better than ever," you answered, earning a soft nod from him.

You were grateful to escape that hellish night.

Before Daryl could reply, Aaron started shouting for someone and rushing inside. You and Glenn exchanged a knowing expression, his friend that was left behind was here.

Whereas, Rick was perplexed and instantly followed after him.

Carol soon came into insight with a bright smile, heading over towards you. To your surprise, Carol pulled her into a tight hug. Despite the guts smothering her fatigued body.

"Let's get you all inside and cleaned up," Carol muttered against your ear.

Everyone followed you, reunions finished, entering the abandoned building.

As soon as they entered, you swiftly discarded the over shirt. Blood soaked it and caused you to stink. Your vest top proved little help with the nippy weather at night, however, a content sigh left your lips, the stench was finally removed.

Taking a seat on a wooden table, you drank in your surroundings. Everyone was around talking amongst themselves, Maggie and Glenn kissing happily while Michonne and Carl laughed happily.

An odd feeling rose within you, your mind wondering to Javier for a mere moment. A lump in your throat began to form.

"Hey," a voice grabbed your attention.

Turning, you spotted Daryl standing patiently with a rag in his hand, and a bottle of water in the other. You coughed, attempting to rid the emotion and lingering thoughts.

"Carol told me to pass these to ya, clean yourself up," he explained.

Nodding, you gratefully took the rag and hesitantly began to scrub at your cheeks and chin. Having no clue if you were ridding the grime or just smearing it.

"It was a whole shit show out there," you attempted to brew conversation.

Daryl snickered while picking at his nails. "Yeah, well you're back that's all that matters...all of ya," he gruffly mumbled.

His voice was quiet. Almost lost beneath the chatter filling the room.

You stared at him for a second longer than you meant to. Meeting his gaze, now scrubbing at your palms, his usually sharp stare was oddly soft.

He turned away slightly and shielded his eyes with his long hair, not enjoying the awkward silence.

"Your girl was going crazy, wantin' to go out lookin' for ya. Threatened to fight me and everythin',” he added, nodding toward Finley.

"Sounds about right," you laughed.

"She gets that stubbornness from...her dad," you added, choosing to ignore Daryl’s behaviour.

However, you instantly felt stupid. Daryl didn't know him.

Why would he care?

Daryl must have noticed your shift in mood, trying to shift the topic "Kid can look after herself anyway, she ain't no trouble," he spoke, while shrugging his bow closer to his shoulder.

An attempt to avoid the awkward air.

Your mouth opened to speak but nothing was mustered. Instead, you opted to give him a tight lip smile when you noticed him still peering through the strands of his hair at Finley, who was chatting with Abraham.

Over the past few weeks you had realised the hot headed southerner had another side to him, sure, you had only seen it once. But that moment in the forest was engraved into your brain.

Brain always pulling back to it, whenever you spotted him.

Daryl Dixon was an enigma.

Finally clean, you began to rummage through your pack which Daryl had also brought over. Snatching at your old work uniform. It was the only article of clothing that was discarded there, to help with the bipolar weather outside.

You opted to not put on the oversized fire jacket, it being a nuisance to wear and carry but for some reason you always kept it. Instead you chucked on the work top, over your vest.

Finley waltzed over to you both. "Thank god, you don't reek of shit," Finn exclaimed.

Daryl snickered at the girl, finding her language amusing. You glared at them both while shaking your head.

"I'm uninjured and unharmed, thanks for asking," you replied flatly, earning a small chuckle from Finn.

Daryl watched the two of you bicker for another moment before quietly pushing himself off the wall.

“See ya around,” he muttered.

Slinging the crossbow higher on his shoulder, he disappeared into the crowd before either of you noticed he’d gone.

Not wanting to spoil the moment between you.

Finally, the group successfully managed to rest peacefully that night. Not a single dooming emotion wavered over them.

You, however, had some doubts but the gleeful face Finley would pass her, while they spoke to Aaron's boyfriend, Eric, seemed to settle them.

This was all for her. Surviving for her and finding a sanctuary. You knew surviving wasn't living, so you trusted Finley's point of view. She deemed the men as trustworthy. So for her sake, you’d allow yourself to hope.

However, the morning came and the nervousness soon kicked in amongst everyone.

They had no clue what this community was like or its people. It's all pleasant when you have a glorified version of the place but reality seemed to disappoint, more often.

So, everyone set out on the journey to this mysterious place.

You and Finley had opted for the RV with most of the group. Whereas, Daryl, Rick, Michonne and Carl had decided to trail behind with a car.

Now, the group were patiently waiting for Abraham and Glenn to fix the RV after Abraham had confirmed it was supposedly ‘smooth sailing from here’.

You were seated in the driver's seat, turning the key in hopes to hear the methodical hum of the vehicle. Nevertheless, as you cranked the RV to life it was quick to silence itself. They couldn't catch a break.

You sighed, slouching against the seat.

Abraham, especially, was beginning to feel hopeless. Lifting your gaze to the redhead, through the windscreen, you shook your head solemnly. The man roughly shut the hood, a string of curses leaving his lip, causing the vehicle to shake.

Glenn offered an apologetic look to you, who was also frustrated.

So much for a peaceful day.

"You did jinx us, smartass," the muffled call of Finn was heard.

Going against your wishes, Finley had followed Daryl to the roof of the vehicle to scout out the area.

To no surprise, Abraham seemed displeased by her comment, so he decided to wave a middle finger up to her.

Shaking your head in disappointment paired with a lingering grin, you decided to attempt to get Finley down.

Before you could call for her, Glenn and Abraham were at the entrance of the RV, Abraham sporting an unhappy stare.

"That kid ever shut up?" Abraham questioned, arms crossed.

Snickering, you stared up at the open ceiling window. "Surprisingly not, even in her sleep,” you replied,earning a tired snort from Glenn.

Abraham scoffed. “Hope it’s not contagious,” the military man mumbled in an irritated tone.

Before you could answer, Daryl’s boots thudded against the roof.

“Nothin’ out here,” he called. “Road’s still clear.”

Finley’s head appeared through the roof hatch moments later, hair cascading into the RV and over her beaming face.

“It’s boring up there,” she added while flashing you a tooth grin.

“Good,” you answered, with a small chuckle. “Means you can get down.”

Finley only shook her head, quickly escaping back to the roof. Earning a roll from your orbs.

“Try it now,” Glenn called, drawing your attention back to the situation at hand.

You slid forward into the driver’s seat, twisting the key once more. Whispering a small prayer to yourself.

The engine sputtered and then rumbled to life.

A collective sigh escaped the perimeter of the RV and some cheered with glee.

The cheers slowly died away as everyone settled back into their respective seats. Relief lingered in the air, but it wasn’t enough to quiet the unease twisting in your stomach.

Glancing over your shoulder at Aaron, who was tending to Eric in the bed of the RV

Glenn hovered beside the driver’s door, resting a hand against the frame.

“You alright?” he asked, noticing your dazed stare at the newcomers.

A heavy sigh escaped you, as you diverted your orbs back on the road ahead. Wondering where Aaron was leading the group.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. Glenn smiled knowingly, you glanced over giving him your full attention. “I wanna trust them, especially because of Finn. But… I don’t know.”

You were at a loss.

Glenn shrugged, climbing into the RV. “I trust Maggie. She trusts him enough to try,” he offered.

His answer made you pause. You both share the same dilemma, trusting the people you love but not Aaron.

“That’s… not really an answer,” you replied.

“Maybe not,” he chuckled. “But after everything we’ve been through, I think we’ve earned the right to hope once in a while.”

Your gaze drifted toward the roof hatch where Finley’s muffled laughter carried above. Daryl and her opting to stay watch, as Rick wandered off.

“Hope gets people killed,” you sighed, with a glum expression.

Glenn was quiet for a moment, offering a small nod of understanding.

“Sometimes.” He looked back toward Maggie before speaking again. “Sometimes it’s the only reason we’re still alive.”

You let his words settle between you, neither of you feeling the need to fill the silence.

Maybe he was right.

Hope had almost gotten you killed more times than you cared to count. But giving it up entirely would’ve killed you just as surely.

A faint knock against the side of the RV pulled your attention away.

“Rick’s back,” Daryl’s voice travelled down through the roof hatch.

Glenn glanced toward the front windshield before offering you a small smile.

“Guess we’re about to find out,” he stated, as he entered to find his seat in the back.

You exhaled slowly, fingers tightening around the steering wheel. “Yeah,” you muttered. “One way or another.”

Moments later, Rick emerged from the treeline, expression unreadable beneath the stubble on his jaw. Michonne fell into step beside him while Carl lingered a pace behind, eyes fixed on the road ahead.

Aaron straightened immediately.

“We’re close,” he said quietly. Leaving Eric to rest alone. “Just a few more miles.”

Rick popped his head through the door window. His gaze swept over everyone inside the RV before finally settling on you.

“Let’s move.” You nodded once, shifted the RV into gear and eased it back onto the road.

The engine hummed steadily beneath your feet as the forest rolled past the windows.

Nobody talked much after that, other than a small complaint from Abraham about your poor driving skills.

“You drive like you stole it,” Abraham muttered from beside you in the passenger seat.

A tired snort escaped your nose. “Technically, it is.”

Quiet chuckles rippled through the RV before silence settled over everyone once more. Every mile carried the same question through the vehicle.

Was this finally home or just another mistake?

The convoy pressed on, Aaron’s directions guiding you farther down the winding roads. Every now and then, you’d catch sight of Rick’s car in the rear-view mirror, never falling too far behind.

You wondered what he was thinking. Knowing Rick, he was probably imagining every possible way this could end badly.

Truthfully, so were you.

The woodland gradually began to thin, giving way to wider roads and scattered neighbourhoods. Houses appeared through the trees, abandoned yet strangely untouched compared to the ruins you’d grown accustomed to.

Aaron leaned forward from his seat, unable to hide the smile creeping onto his face.

“We’re here,” he cheered.

You frowned. “I don’t see anything.”

“Keep driving.”

The road bent gently around a cluster of trees. Then your breath caught, lids widening at the sight before you.

Steel walls towered above the treeline, impossibly high, stretching farther than your eyes could follow. Watchtowers overlooked the surrounding woodland, and enormous gates stood proudly in the centre.

The RV instinctively slowed, allowing everyone to take in their new surroundings.

Behind you, nobody spoke. Not even Abraham.

Your eyes drifted to the rear-view mirror. Rick’s car had stopped as well, which contained Finley and Dary.

For a long moment, neither vehicle moved.

The walls didn’t look thrown together. They looked permanent and safe. Hopeful even.

Your fingers tightened around the steering wheel.

“Holy shit,” Abraham breathed, enamored by the sheer size of the gate.

No one disagreed.

Aaron looked around the RV, his smile widening. “Welcome to Alexandria.”

After entering the confines of Alexandria, everyone was welcomed warmly, allowed to settle in as they pleased. Showers, food and new clothes.

In exchange, you’d have an interview with the leader, Deanna. An opposition for her to analyze you, no doubt.

And it was officially your turn.

The room was strangely peaceful. It almost unsettled you more than the dead ever could. Sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting warm streaks across the polished wooden floor. There wasn’t the smell of damp earth, stale blood or decay.

Instead, fresh coffee lingered in the air, mixed with the scent of clean linen.

You shifted awkwardly in the surprisingly cushioned chair opposite the woman, fingers drumming absent-mindedly against the worn fabric of your new jeans. Thanks to the new community, they allowed you to get washed and into fresh clothes.

However, sitting still had become strangely foreign after so long on the road. Especially without your weapons.

A camera sat perched on its tripod, its tiny red light already glowing.

“So…” Deanna, Alexandria’s leader, began warmly, folding one leg over the other. “Whenever you’re ready.”

You glanced toward the camera. “So that’s recording?” She nodded in response. “And everyone gets one?”

“Everyone,” Deanna echoed, confirming your question.

A small sigh escaped your lips. “Guess I can’t complain then,” you sighed, easing into the chair.

“It wouldn’t stop me recording,” she replied with a smile.

That earned the smallest twitch of amusement from you.

Deanna noticed. “I’ve had a few people in here who looked like they wanted to strangle me. And I still recorded it,” She explained with an eerie air around her.

Your mind instantly drifted to Rick, knowing he’s the type.

“Yeah,” you muttered. “That sounds about right.”

Another note was scribbled into the pad resting on her lap. Which made you raise a brow in question but she simply ignored it.

“So” she continued, “tell me who you are.”

You frowned. “You want my name?”

“I know your name.” She smiled patiently. “I want to know you. During and before,” the older woman clarified, chuckling lightly at your comment.

Your eyes wandered uneasily around the tidy living room, lingering on framed family photographs, neatly stacked books and untouched ornaments.

Everything had its place. Nothing looked scavenged. Nothing looked temporary, it was clean and pristine.

“I was a firefighter,” you admitted with a flat shrug.

“I guessed as much.”

Your hand instinctively brushed against the faded work shirt you’d changed back into after showering.

“You kept the uniform,” She noted. Her eyes glazed over the stitching of the embroidered badge.

You nodded. “Before everything became…” you searched for the word before giving up. “…this.”

She waited, not wanting to rush you.

“I liked my job,” you admitted quietly, a wistful smile tugging briefly at your lips. “It wasn’t just work… it was my whole life. I knew what I was supposed to do every day.”

Deanna offered a warm smile, standing from her spot. “I imagine you helped a lot of people.”

“I tried,” you replied quickly. “I mean who wouldn’t at least try?”

“And now?” She questioned, as she moved toward a side table.

The table beside her held a large glass jug of freshly made lemonade. Tiny bubbles clung stubbornly to the inside of the glass while slices of bright yellow lemon floated lazily across the surface.

Deanna poured two generous glasses before offering one to you.

“Now I mostly hit dead people with the same axe,” you mumbled. You accepted the drink cautiously, almost suspiciously.

The first sip caught you off guard. It was cold. Ice cold.

The sharp citrus burst across your tongue before the sweetness followed, the fizzy bubbles prickling pleasantly at the back of your throat. You hadn’t tasted anything remotely fresh in…Well, you couldn’t even remember how long.

Your eyes widened despite yourself. For one impossible second, it felt like the world hadn’t ended. You could have sworn, you were dreaming this.

To your surprise, Deanna laughed. A genuine laugh. At the comment and your reaction to the beverage.

“I suppose that still counts as helping people.”

You only replied with a shrug, unsure on how to respond.

Silence settled again. Comfortable this time. Deanna leaned forward slightly, returning back to her seat.

“How long have you been with Rick’s group? From the beginning?” She quizzed, again.

You shook your head, finishing the remainder of the sweet liquid. “Not from the beginning,” you informed, licking the residue from your lip.

“So they found you?” You nodded in response.

You swallowed, thoughts lingering to the beginning of the end. Which seemed like a lifetime ago now.

“I was travelling with Javier,” you informed with a somber tone, discarding the glass on the coffee table in front of you.

Before you could explain further, Deanna hummed knowingly.

“Finley mentioned him,” she added. “She’s a bright girl, very charismatic.”

Your gaze dropped to your lap, thumbs rubbing absent-mindedly against calloused palms. Tiny white scars crossed your knuckles, each one carrying a story you no longer wanted to remember.

“Yeah,” you whispered.

A tight tug on your heart made you exhale, thinking of how far Finley had come. How much she had lost, and still remained so full of life.

“She’s not your daughter,” Deanna continued, sensing your sorrowful aura.

Shaking your head, “No.”

Deanna wrote more notes in her pad, humming lightly. “But you protect her like she is,” she interrogated, still writing.

You rubbed your palms together, sensing the sweat building up on them. “I promised I’d keep her alive.”

“You feel responsible.” She flashed you a brief look.

“I am responsible.”

“No,” Deanna corrected gently. “You feel responsible.”

It was obvious that the older woman was emotionally mature, aware of subtle tells.

The distinction made you hesitate. “I guess,” you hesitantly replied.

Deanna rested her notebook against her knee, studying you with quiet understanding.

“That’s a heavy burden to carry,” she said softly.

You let out a slow, tired breath through your nose, shrugging. “It’s lighter than carrying guilt,” you mumbled.

Deanna didn’t write anything this time. She simply watched you. “You love that girl, like she was your own?”

The words caught you off guard.

“I…” You paused.“…Yeah.”

The answer came quieter than expected. “I do,” you confirmed.

Another comfortable silence followed.

“I could see that, just from Finley alone.” She nodded, tight lipped. “When I asked her if she had parents, she said no,” the woman began to explain. “But she was clear in telling me you both weren’t to be separated.”

You sat there, silent. Allowing her to ramble on, giving you a chance to analyze the leader.

Deanna was an older woman, which contributed to her wisdom. Matching Aaron, she oozed charisma. All the right things to be warm and inviting. The perfect person to prod and pry at newcomers.

Squinting your lids, you watched as she scribbled another note down. Yes, she has a lot to say but she was clearly good at reading people.

“I used to be a politician,” she explained, almost as if she could sense your confusion at the way she was. “A lot of people hear that and immediately assume the worst.”

A small smile tugged at her lips, before she continued. “They imagine someone who lies, manipulates and says whatever they need to say to get ahead.”

“You’re saying you weren’t like that?” You countered with a pointed expression, a small smirk tickling your lips.

“I’m saying I was a good listener.”

That made you pause.

Deanna cleared her throat, jutting her chin up slightly, before continuing. “People tell you a lot when they think nobody is paying attention. They tell you what they fear, what they want, what they’re trying to hide.” Her gaze briefly drifted toward the camera. “This place was built on that. Listening.”

Allowing yourself to search around the room again, admiring the personality that shone through. It was cluttered with sheets of paper and books. An organized mess, somewo would call it.

It was clear this was where she’d set plans for the community. Where she applied all of her, so called, listening.

“Seems like a lot of trust to build a world off of instinct,” you quipped while rubbing your palms against your jeans. Sensing the build up of sweat on them, not appreciating being under a microscope.

“It is.” The answer came easily. No hesitation.

“I won’t pretend Alexandria is perfect. It isn’t,” she sighed heavily. “There are people here who have never had to make the decisions your group has made. They haven’t had to choose who lives and who dies.” Her expression softened, gazing off into the distance for a moment. “But they are still people. They still deserve a chance.”

Your fingers tightened slightly against your palm, balling them into an anxious fist.

“That’s a dangerous way to think,” you countered.

Deanna smiled faintly, shrugging. “Maybe, but so is assuming everyone is your enemy.”

Lips remained firmly shut, at a loss for words, because you couldn’t exactly argue. Not after Aaron, after all the trails your group put him through and so far he had remained truthful.

Deanna noticed your silence but, true to form, didn’t press the issue.

Instead, she calmly uncapped her pen once more, scribbling another neat line into the already crowded notebook balanced carefully upon her knee. The scratching of ink across paper was the only sound filling the pleasantly quiet room. She was just doodling now, absent mindlessly.

“Aaron has been watching your group since you arrived,” Deanna admitted after a moment, her voice remaining gentle, matter-of-fact. She glanced briefly toward the closed notebook before looking back up at you. “He made notes. About each of you.”

Your brow arched instinctively. You knew it.

“So…” A quiet, almost disbelieving chuckle escaped you. “He was spying on us.”

The older woman didn’t appear remotely offended. Instead, a knowing smile settled across her features.

“It’s his job,” she replied simply. “He observes people. He looks for who they are before they know they’re being watched.”

You leaned further into the comfortable armchair, folding your arms loosely across your chest as your eyes drifted thoughtfully toward the softly humming camera.

“Guess we gave him plenty to write about,” you attempted to joke, feeling a slight nervous chill in your bones. The idea of being watched still irritated you.

“I’d imagine so.”

The corner of Deanna’s mouth twitched upwards before she reopened her notebook, quietly scanning over Aaron’s careful handwriting.

“So…” she murmured thoughtfully. “What have I figured out?”

Her thoughtful eyes lifted to meet yours once again.

“Rick leads.”

You nodded without hesitation. “He always has,” you confirmed.

“But he doesn’t lead alone,” Deanna continued, tapping her pen lightly against the paper. “Michonne challenges him whenever she believes he’s drifting too far. He listens… even when he pretends he isn’t.”

A faint smile tugged at your lips. “Sounds about right.”

She smiled in return before continuing. “Glenn…” the leader said thoughtfully. “Glenn reminds everyone that humanity is still worth holding onto.”

You couldn’t stop the small, genuine smile that appeared.

“He carries hope,” Deanna added quietly. “Sometimes I think that’s harder than carrying a weapon.”

Your gaze drifted absent-mindedly toward the window. That sounded exactly like Glenn.

She continued down the list, occasionally glancing at Aaron’s notes, occasionally studying you instead. Listing every quality the group had.

Deanna chuckled softly, at your reactions, before her expression grew thoughtful once again.

“Daryl…” She paused, almost searching for the right words. “Daryl is… difficult.”

A quiet laugh escaped you, one you couldn’t contain. “You’re telling me,” you chuckled dryly.

The woman hummed warmly, nodding sincerely. “Hard to read. Harder to predict. Aaron couldn’t quite decide whether he wanted to disappear into the woods or kill him.”

Despite yourself, a small smirk appeared briefly. “Probably both.”

“I suspect you’re right.”

The laughter between you was brief, but it dissolved a surprising amount of tension.

When it faded, Deanna carefully closed the notebook with deliberate finality, resting both hands across the worn leather cover.

“I’d like to offer you a position in security,” she abruptly stated.

The words landed heavily, an odd weight with each syllable.

You frowned slightly. “Security?” Your tone was flat, mixed with confusion.

“Alexandria has walls,” Deanna described patiently, gesturing vaguely toward the window where the towering steel barriers stood beyond the houses. “Strong ones.”

She paused.

“But walls don’t protect people.” Her ocean blue eyes settled firmly on yours. “People protect people.”

The conviction in her voice was unmistakable. “Most of the residents here…” she continued quietly, “…have never had to survive the way your group has. They’ve been sheltered behind these walls for a very long time.”

Her intense expression softened, at her own words “And I’d like to keep it that way.”

Silence stretched between you.

You rubbed absent-mindedly at the back of your neck, thoughts immediately drifting toward Rick, Finley, Glenn, Daryl… everyone.

Whether they trusted this place. Whether they’d stay.

Whether you would.

“You don’t have to answer immediately,” Deanna reassured, noticing the uncertainty clouding your expression. “I know this is a great deal to ask after only a few hours.”

You slowly nodded, wetting your lips with your tongue, before speaking “But…” Your eyes met hers again. “Why me?”

It was the question that mattered.

Deanna regarded you quietly for several long seconds, her gaze thoughtful rather than analytical now.

Finally, she smiled. “Because every story you’ve told me today has been about somebody else.”

Confusion flickered across your face.

She elaborated gently. “Javier.” A finger lifted.

“Finley.” Another.

“Your group.”

“And even when you spoke about your old job,” she continued softly, “you never told me how it made you feel first.”

Deanna tilted her head ever so slightly. “You talked about the people you saved.”

Your lips parted slightly, but no words came.

“You instinctively place yourself between danger and everyone standing behind you,” Deanna observed, her voice calm, certain. “Not because anyone asks you to.”

A faint, understanding expression crossed her face. “But because you don’t seem to know how not to,” she finished.

The room fell quiet once more. This time, the silence felt heavier.

Not uncomfortable. Just truthful.

You peaked down at your hands, rough and scarred from years of hauling hoses, breaking down doors, swinging axes, and more recently, burying them into the skulls of the dead.

For the first time since arriving behind Alexandria’s towering walls, you wondered what those hands were supposed to build instead of destroy.

No longer needing to act on your own instincts, now surrounded by caring people.

Was this your chance? A chance to give Finley the life she deserved.

The conversation lingered in your thoughts long after you stepped outside.

Front door clicking shut behind you, muffling the peaceful atmosphere Deanna seemed to carry wherever she went. Warm sunlight immediately washed over your face, forcing your eyes to narrow against the brightness.

For a moment, you simply stood there on Deanna’s porch. Taking in your surroundings, giving your brain a moment of silence.

Enabling yourself to breathe in the quaint space.

The street stretched quietly before you, as children rode bicycles down it with loud screams and giggles. Neighbours passing one another with a welcoming smile, clean and carefree.

It was normal. Back to how it once was.

People watching for a few more minutes, an uneasy feeling swelled in your stomach. Gulping unnecessarily, in hopes to get rid of it.

It was now foreign to you.

Tranquility.

Your boots carried you down the pavement without much thought. Every house looked identical. Coated in fresh paint and a neatly trimmed garden.

Nothing broken or rotting. No desperate scramble to just survive another day.

Your fingers twitched instinctively toward the place your axe would normally hang before remembering, Alexandria had taken everyone’s weapons.

The absence felt uncomfortable. You were too vulnerable.

A voice pulled you from your thoughts.

“Finally escaped?”

You glanced up, from across the street, Glenn emerged with Maggie beside him. The second you spotted them, relief softened your features.

A laugh escaped your nose. “Barely,” you snickered.

Glenn grinned knowingly, having his interview before you.

“Well?” he called.

You exhaled through your nose, shrugging carelessly. “I survived.”

“That makes one of us,” Glenn snorted, earning a quiet laugh from Maggie.

Maggie stepped closer, now in fresh clothes and a clean face. Somehow making her look younger, though the tiredness around her eyes remained.

The sound of raised voices further down the street drew your attention. Rick.

Sure enough, you spotted several members of the group gathered outside one of the houses Alexandria had assigned them.

All three of you wandered over to be with your group. Needing to discuss the future and plans ahead.

Rick stood near the porch steps, arms folded tightly across his chest. While Michonne leaned casually against the railing beside him.

Carl sat on the porch with Judith balanced awkwardly on his lap while she attempted to grab his hat.

The sight almost made you smile.

Then your eyes found Finley. The girl sat cross-legged in the grass, examining something in her hands.

An apple. A fresh apple.

She looked completely captivated by it. As if she couldn’t quite believe it was real.

The knot in your chest loosened. Just a little.

You had spent weeks wondering if she’d ever get a chance to be a kid again. Now, she sat in the middle of a quiet suburban street holding fruit like it was treasure.

Maybe this place really was different.

“Hey.” You turned, as your name left someone’s throat. Rick’s attention was shifted towards you.

“How’d it go?” He began to interrogate.

A dozen pairs of eyes followed, everyone in the group eager to hear what she may have said.

As if, she hadn’t done the same to all of them already.

You rolled your shoulders, followed by a heavy sigh. “Apparently I’m employable,” you answered.

Rick’s brow furrowed. “Employable?” he repeated, suspicion dripping from the single word.

A few quiet chuckles spread through the group.

You nodded once. “Deanna offered me a job.” That wiped the amusement from more than a few faces.

“A job?” Abraham echoed, sounding almost offended by the concept. “What she offer you?”

“In security,” you clarified. “She wants people who’ve actually survived outside the walls.”

Rick’s expression remained unreadable. “And?”

You shrugged. “I didn’t say yes.”

“But you didn’t say no,” Michonne observed.

Your eyes found hers for a brief moment before drifting back toward the peaceful street.

“No.”

Silence settled over the group. It wasn’t tense. Just thoughtful.

Rick rubbed a hand across his beard, looking toward the towering walls surrounding Alexandria.

“They’re moving too fast,” he muttered. “Offering us jobs, the houses…”

“They’ve got people baking cookies while we’re still wondering if they’re gonna put knives in our backs.” Carol folded her arms loosely, leaning against the railing of the porch.

“Maybe that’s because they’re not expecting us to,” you added with a small shrug. “I mean look at them, they’ve been here a while… if not the whole time.”

Everyone analyzed the neighbour, where the two homes they were offered sat smack in the centre of it, sensing the innocence.

From what Deanna stated, they needed muscle. People to serve and protect.

Yes, it was suspicious but it was clear they were weak compared to the group.

Daryl, leaning against the porch railing, snorted quietly. “Still don’t trust it,” he scoffed.

“No one asked you to,” Carol answered without missing a beat.

That earned another snort from him.

Glenn stepped forward, hands shoved into his pockets. “I think…” He glanced around the neighbourhood before finishing. “I think we should at least see what this place really is.”

Rick didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he watched a little boy pedal past on a bright blue bicycle, another child laughed as he raced after him.

No fear. No panic.

Just children, being children. Allowed to live, not just survive.

His shoulders loosened ever so slightly. “We stay alert,” Rick finally said.

“Always.”

Everyone nodded.

No one argued.

It was the only answer any of them could agree on. The conversation gradually dissolved into smaller ones.

Maggie wandered over inside of the house, quietly joining Glenn.

Abraham wandered off muttering something about finding a beer, if they actually even had beer here. Rosita rolled her eyes before following him.

Tara disappeared inside the next house with Eugene, both arguing over something trivial.

One by one, everyone drifted away.

Leaving you standing at the edge of the porch, giving you an opportunity to take everything in. Watching as the overpowering sun began to descend, to reveal the pending night sky.

Your eyes found Finley again.

She’d finally started eating the apple properly now, talking animatedly with Carl about something neither of them would remember tomorrow.

Maybe Deanna had been right.

This would be an opportunity to protect. Correctly.

Maybe your hands didn’t always have to carry an axe.

Maybe one day they’d build something instead.

You weren’t naïve enough to believe Alexandria would solve everything.

Walls could fall. People could lie. Paradise could crumble overnight.

You knew that better than most.

This place hasn't earned your trust. Not yet.

As another breeze carried laughter down the quiet suburban street, you realised it had earned something else.

A chance.

For the first time since the world had ended, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe there could be more waiting for you than simply surviving.

And for now, that was enough.

You sensed someone watching, so lost in thought.

Turning your head, you spotted Daryl sitting on the porch steps, elbows resting on his knees.

He watched Finley laugh with Carl and then his gaze flickered to you.

His intense orbs lingered just long enough to notice the way your shoulders had finally dropped, the way you weren’t scanning every rooftop or every corner of the street.

For once, you appeared clean and relaxed.

The corner of his mouth almost twitched before he quietly ducked inside, leaving you alone with the strange feeling that someone else had noticed the weight you’d been carrying.

next chapter!

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