It was stupid, really, the way something so small could hit him like a punch to the gut. But as he stood there, watching Liv wrestle with whatever thoughts had her lost in the past, he couldn't help but wonder if she ever thought about those memories the way he did. If she ever missed them. Missed him. For a long while after their forced separation, it had been difficult for Shep to imagine anything without an image of her blurring his thoughts, their daughter too. He'd battled more than demons than he could count and he'd fallen victim to them too. Sleepless nights, early mornings of shooting up from wherever he'd laid his head to search for her distant voice, only to realize he'd been dreaming. Again. He'd thought the unknown was torture, but having stumbled into the same gated community as her, some questions answered, others left untouched... now he knew real torture.
He wanted to say something—anything—to bridge the quiet stretching between them. But what was there to say? That he remembered every single moment before the world went to complete and utter shit? That he could still hear her laugh in his head when he closed his eyes? That even now, after everything, there was a part of him that wanted to pull her back into the world they'd lost? And even though he couldn't, that he still wanted to pull her close? That he wanted to make new memories in a kitchen much nicer than anything they'd ever known? That he wanted to fill every room in his place with the sounds of her sweet amusement?
But things weren’t the same. They couldn’t be.
So instead, he exhaled sharply and forced a smirk. “You know, if you’re having second thoughts on that coffee, I might be feeling generous enough to offer again.” His voice was light, teasing—but his eyes searched hers, as if hoping for something she wasn’t ready to give.
"What's his deal? What'd he do before the fall?" Anyone could have a head on their shoulders built for survival. Hell, he'd found himself doing and learning things he never would have if the world hadn't been turned upside down. Some things couldn't be self-taught though, and from what he knew of Eugene, that kind of intelligence didn't stem from resilience.
He huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "Yeah, well, trust isn’t exactly something that comes easy these days." Shep shifted on his feet, his gaze trained on hers as she rambled on about the other man. It stung, the way her mouth curved towards the ceiling above as she spoke so freely about the leather vest cladded man he'd come to know as Daryl. The raven haired male had heard her speak about him in the same light before, her confidence in the man level and firm. He let out a slow breath, running a hand through his hair before nodding. "I’ll give him a chance. No promises, but…" A small smirk tugged at his lips, one that did little to show the sting beneath. "I’ll try not to hold the redneck thing against him." And he would, given that the man gave him no reason to.
His eyes flicked to her, searching for something—reassurance, maybe. Or just some indication that this uneasy truce between them wasn’t as fragile as it felt. That all the distance, all the years, weren’t an insurmountable wall between them. He wasn’t blind. He knew she was still working through it all, still adjusting to the fact that he was here, that everything she’d believed had been turned upside down. And honestly? He couldn’t blame her. If the roles had been reversed, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to let go of that kind of anger either.
But she was talking to him. She'd gone out of her way to check-in with him at his place, even if it had been orchestrated by someone else. That had to count for something, right?
He caught the hesitation in her voice, the way her expression shifted ever so slightly before she answered. It wasn’t an easy thing for either of them—this strange, careful balancing act they were trying to pull off—but the fact that she didn’t immediately shut him down was something. A small crack in the wall she’d built between them. Shep nodded, absorbing her words with the kind of patience he was still learning to practice. "That’s fair," he said, voice even, though there was a flicker of something softer beneath it. "I’ll make sure it’s something she’ll like. No expectations, no pressure."
His lips twitched in something close to a smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He wanted to ask if that line—not her father—would ever change, if there would ever come a day when he wouldn’t have to be just Shep, the new friend, but he held his tongue. This wasn’t about what he wanted.
Shepley nodded, his gaze steady, but his thoughts lingered on her response. He could see it in her eyes—the way she still held onto that guarded, wary hope. The both of them knew how easily everything could shift in the matter of an instant. "I get it. I can't imagine keeping a place like this going is easy." As her voice tapered off, his stomach turned over, threatening to empty the beer that had only just settled there. He knew for a fact that someone wanted this place for themself, and he also knew for a fact that Negan had the means to push past every board and metal sheet still standing. "Doesn't mean that won't fail one day. A hoard... or someone wanting in this place... I think we both know what happens when a desperate person wants something." And Negan was the right amount of desperate, careless, and reckless to take it.
With or without Shep's help.
Shepley listened carefully, taking in the weight of her words. He could hear the exhaustion in her voice, the weariness of someone who’d seen too many close calls and too many good people lost. His eyes softened, his brow furrowed slightly as he looked at her—he understood that kind of fear, that kind of responsibility. "Sounds like a lot of them don't have a clue what they're really up against," he said quietly, a little frustration creeping into his voice. While they'd been left to fight for themselves with no clue how to navigate the new world, there were people living as if nothing at all had changed. "Crazy how some of us were left in the dark and then you have a place like this..." he trailed off, silencing himself with a long pull from his beer. Little did she know, the safe haven wasn't so tucked away after all. The reminder had him taking yet another drink, leaving nothing more than another sip or two in the bottle.
He gave a small sigh, the kind that felt heavy with everything he didn’t know how to say. "I don't think you have to let your guard down, Liv. But maybe… maybe you can start trusting that we’ll help shoulder some of it. Not just you. Not just your group. We’re all in this together now. We can get them ready, give them what they need to hold their own. And if there’s one thing I know, it’s that when you put your mind something... it gets done." He paused, watching her shift onto the island, the restless energy in her movements matching what he’d seen in her since they’d met.
The mention of their daughter, the one who knew him as nothing more than a familiar, had the vertically gifted man taking a slow step towards her, his gaze filled with battling emotions—anger, sadness, regret, guilt, defeat, fear, understanding. His daughter might've been oblivious to the parental tie, but his devotion to protecting her and the woman atop the island was unwavering. "You won't lose her." He was as certain about that as he was about anything. Regardless of what it cost him, even if it were his life, he'd protect them, he'd protect her.
Liv didn't know how long she'd been standing there, frozen while memories flooded through her mind, but Shep's voice lulled her back to the present - away from her thoughts. Reminded her that this wasn't the past. This wasn't the time before the dead wandered freely, before their daughter, before the strained nature of their relationship. She was fairly certain everyone in the community could see that there was history between them; it was impossible to ignore with the way they looked at each other in passing. The stolen glances that lingered between them. The nervous, unconscious habits that abounded when they were in the same room. Hell, even Daryl had asked about it a few days after Shep had arrived. She had brushed the questions off, of course, just saying he was something she knew before the world died, but she knew he could see right through her. He always had; he was one of the few people who could see right through whatever façade she put on. There was only one person who knew her better, and that was Shep.
At least, that's how it used to be.
Every inch of her was screaming to start over. To give him another chance and fall back into the safety and comfort his arms provided. Ignore everything that had happened over the last few years. Forget the misplaced anger that had settled like a weight onto her chest after all this time and just start over. Again. He had always been home; her touchstone. Adjusting to life without him had been hard, but she'd done it. It would have been easy to fall back into their old life, and there was a part of her that wanted nothing more. But there was a side of her that wouldn't just throw caution to the wind. He was hiding something. She doubted it was anything big, really, but it was enough to make her pause. They had always told each other everything, especially the important things. But that was the catch, wasn't it? They'd always been there for each other, never had a reason to keep secrets, but that had shifted since the world came to an end and he had disappeared. Shep hadn't been there for her to lean on, and thinking he had chosen to leave them at the most terrifying point in their lives had hardened her. Raising their daughter on their own for the first few years, fending off dangers worse than the walkers (humanity had not been kind), had made her weary to trust anyone. Granted ,the struggles had made her stronger, but it had also made her colder to anyone who wasn't her daughter. While underneath she may have been the same woman he'd always known, she was guarded and cold to anyone she didn't know.
She hadn't trusted the people at the prison when she first met them; she'd only agreed to come back with the young couple she'd come across because they'd been low on food, Anya'd had a fever, and they had a doctor. Honestly, she'd intended to stay there just until Anya was better, but it had been Daryl and Beth who had managed to seep through the cracks in the walls that she had put up. It had been her relationship with the two of them that helped her connect with the rest of the group, and despite how hard she tried not to do so it wasn't long before she allowed herself to start feeling at home there. And then it was gone again because of the Governor.
Losing Beth had nearly destroyed them both, but they'd been able to find comfort in one another in the time after. It wasn't long before Daryl had slipped into the place that Shep once held - as much as she hated to admit it. Of course, he'd never been able to fill the void she'd felt without Shep, and they both knew he never would, but with time he became what Shep had once been to both herself and Anya. Anya knew he wasn't her father, Liv had made sure to explain that, but Daryl easily slipped into the father figure role in the little girl's life when she needed someone. He was the only father figure, aside from Rick, that she'd known.
And that just made her wonder (incessantly, almost) if he'd stumbled across someone who had done the same for him. Someone he trusted and leaned on the way he'd leaned on her. Did he have another woman in his life out there somewhere who'd become family to him in the way that she had once been. Would he tell her if he had?
Instead of hyperfocusing on that thought, though, she was pulled back to the conversation as she heard mention of coffee again. Her eyes searched his face briefly, taking in the features she'd missed since he'd been gone, and offered a brief smile. It was meant to be a reassuring gesture, but she knew he could probably see past it; especially when she noticed that his own smile didn't meet his eyes. "On second thought, coffee would be great. Long as it's strong," she returned with a slightly bigger smile. Inwardly shaking her head to clear her mind, she made her way towards the island in the center of his kitchen and leaned against it; she needed to stop getting lost in the past. It was harder now that she knew the truth behind his disappearance, but the truth was she didn't know anything about what he'd gone through in the last few years. He seemed to be the same man she'd fallen in love with, but he was different too. They needed to get to know each other again, especially if he wanted to be involved in their daughter's life. "But you know, I'm going to get your supplier out of you eventually," she added with a smirk. "Especially if they managed to find the good stuff."
When the subject moved to Eugene, she shook her head a little and shrugged. "To be honest, I'm not quite sure what he did before," she answered with another shake of her head. "I honestly never asked him what he did before everything went down. I know part of the group met him after everything that went down after the prison, and when they first met him he told them that he was one of ten scientists employed by the United States government working on some sort of biological weapons project that ended up starting all this shit," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "He lied, of course," she added a few seconds later - realizing that she hadn't actually included that before. "But he told them whatever he thought would gain him protection. Honestly, I don't think any of us ever really thought to ask him what he actually did," she remarked with a quiet laugh.
Liv nodded at the concept of trust after the world had ended. Trusting people you didn't know before everything had gone down had been hard enough, but in this new world? Trust was exactly what got people killed these days. She was just lucky she had stumbled across a group of people that were actually good people. People she could trust with her daughter's life. She didn’t care so much about her own life, but her main focus had always been keeping Anya safe. She didn't know what Shep had been through in the years that had passed, but she was sure that he knew how dangerous giving trust to the wrong people was; she was glad that he was willing to at least try with Daryl. The man wasn't someone who screamed 'trust me', in fact he kind of screamed 'I'll beat you bloody and steal your money', but he was a good guy underneath the whole façade he put on for everyone else. A façade he'd cultivated through years of living with his father and Merle. Despite the man's words, though, she could see the sting in his eyes as he talked about trying to give Daryl a chance, and Liv couldn't ignore the slight sting in her chest at the fact that she hadn't seen it sooner; there had been a time that she could read his face like an open book and vice versa. "That...that's all I ask," she said with a small nod, clearing her throat a little, as he said that he would give the man a chance and not hold the 'redneck' thing against him.
As the subject turned to him making something for their daughter, she could feel her body tense up out of habit. She didn't trust outsiders instinctively, but it wasn't like Shep was an outsider. Not really, at least. Not to her. There was a time when she knew without a doubt that he would never hurt her; that the thought would never even cross his mind. But times had changed. She didn't know the man that he was now; the man this world had turned him into. As much as she wanted to believe he was the same man she'd fallen in love with, things were different now. He was hiding something from her. Maybe many somethings. She didn't know what it was or how many things it was, but with their history, she knew when he was keeping something from her. That was why she was so hesitant to let him too much into Anya's life. Despite her uneasiness, though, she wasn't going to ask him not to have any contact with their daughter at all; if anything, that would just draw more questions. No, he could be her friend Shep, and that was it. Until she figured out whatever he was hiding at least. Friend or not, she knew that Anya would love the gift regardless. That's just who she was; you could give the girl a leaf, and she'd be thrilled.
She expected him to give a little bit of pushback, given she had essentially told him 'yeah you can give our daughter a gift but she can't know who you actually are', but he accepted her conditions without any sort of pushback. "I guarantee you, she'll love it," she said with a small, light smile. "That's just who she is, but she's also genuinely intrigued by you so she'll love whatever you give her. I promise."
Liv shook her head a bit as he commented about keeping a place like Alexandria running, and he was definitely right on that front. Keeping the prison running had been a little easier than Alexandria; both places were relatively similar in size, but the prison's defenses were better. They had two layers of reinforced chain-link fences, concrete buildings that were sturdy, and watch towers on every corner of the perimeter; it was easy to see if something was heading their way - for the most part, at least; no one had really seen The Governor's attack coming until it was too late. With Alexandria, the walls were thicker and stronger, but they were also steel, and the community was more or less surrounded by woods; you couldn't see anything that was coming unless you were standing on top of one of the look out posts and seriously paying attention. She wasn't stupid; she knew that if there were communities like Alexandria and Hilltop in the area, there had to be others they just hadn't come across yet. And there was no way in hell that all of them were friendly. Hell, even Jesus and Gregory had talked about the fact that they gave half of their supplies to some other community in return for their 'protection'. They weren't located that far from Hilltop, and there was nothing stopping this other community from discovering them; honestly, she had no doubts Gregory would sell them out in a heartbeat.
"If you've been out there the entire time like we have, I think you could genuinely help them a lot. With shoring up defenses, at least. Deanna won't let us teach anyone to fight; says it'll never come to that or some shit," she commented with a shake of her head and a roll of her eyes; not teaching the people of Alexandria how to defend themselves physically was one of the stupidest decisions the leader could have made. A light scoff escaped her lips when he remarked that the Alexandrians didn't seem to know what they were really up against outside their walls. That was a severe understatement. "They haven't got the slightest idea what it's really like out there. What a majority of the people are like out there now," she sighed heavily. "Don't get me wrong, they're not all bad. We've met more than our fair share of kind and helpful people along the way, but..." she trailed off for a moment before shaking her head again. "The people here are just...naïve. They have this idea of what it's like out there, something they probably gathered from movies and tv shows I guess, but they don't really know. I think they've been so isolated since the start of everything that they just...don't realize how brutal it is out there now."
Memories of the Governor's attack on the prison came flooding back when he commented about how desperate people got when they wanted something bad enough. She knew all too well how dangerous it could be when someone else wanted what you had and had the means to take it from you. She knew how easy it would be for someone with the right force behind them to overrun the community, and that was what made her hesitant to fully let her defenses down. Their daughter wasn't old enough to remember the Governor's attack, so she had no idea how close they'd come to losing their lives. They were just lucky that they'd found Carol as they were stumbling out of the wreckage, trying to hiding from the walkers that were roaming the carnage.
Settling onto the countertop, she grabbed her beer again and played with the label a bit as she listened to him talking, occasionally taking a sip from the beer. The way he was talking about starting to trust the community, that they would all get through whatever was thrown at them, she couldn't really explain why but it felt like a weight was lifted off of her shoulders. Since finding Rick's group, she knew that she wasn't alone in this new world. But this was the first time in a while that she'd genuinely felt it. She gave a soft laugh, the smile remaining on her lips momentarily as he talked about knowing how determined she was when she put her mind to something; that much hadn't changed since she was a child. She'd always been stubborn - often to the point where it got her in trouble when she was younger.
As the subject shifted once more, though, the smile fell from her face as she reminded herself of just how vulnerable Alexandria really was. They could shore up the walls and make them more stable, but without the people knowing how to defend themselves - knowing how to fight - they would never survive an attack from outsiders if someone ventured their way. To be completely honest, Olivia was shocked that the community hadn't been attacked already - especially with how many pillaged communities they'd seen on the way from Georgia to Virginia. Rick had tried several times, as had she, to explain to Deanna that they needed to do more than just reinforce the walls, but she refused; hell, even Reg seemed to be on the side of caution and self-defense, but Deanna was convinced there was 'another way'. If they were attacked and she lost her child because that woman refused to see the reality of things...honestly, Liv didn't know what she'd do, but she knew it wouldn't be good.
Looking up from her beer as he came closer, she shook her head a bit and glanced back down at the bottle before taking another, slightly longer swig. "I won't survive losing her," she remarked after a moment. "I won't. I've come damn close to losing her before at the prison and Terminus, and I just-" She cut herself off and shook her head again; she honestly wasn't used to being open with her deepest fears like this. The only people she had these sort of conversations with in the last few years had been Daryl, Maggie, and Rick; she couldn't bring herself to voice these sort of fears to Carol after everything the woman had endured. "I don't know how Carol keeps going. First Sophia, then Mika and Lizzie. I don't think I could keep breathing, let alone keep moving."
