#baseba

I think this was my first request I ever received on Wattpad, apparently I never posted it to Tumblr, so here it is now. 

Word Count: 1034

Warnings: none

Setting: Season 4; reuniting after the prison

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You and Daryl have grown close since leaving the Farm. At first, neither of you could stand the other. Your personalities clashed and there was constant bickering. But when he helped you get away when the farm was overrun, you began to realize he wasn't so bad after all. Now, quite a while later, you are all content at the Prison. Everything is well, though, who knows how long that will last. You recently lost a lot of people, due to some virus that had gone around. Somewhere between 1/3 and 1/2 of you all had been killed. You had been in quarantine, as well. When you became quarantined was when Daryl made it his mission to get the meds. You owe him(and the others) your life. You were very grateful, and it honestly made your heart flutter a little at the thought of Daryl being so afraid to lose you. You were standing outside, enjoying the nice weather, when it all happened. A loud boom and you jumped out of your skin, turning to see one of the towers on fire. Down by the entrance to the prison, was a tank, multiple cars, and a lot of people. You instantly realized it must be the Governor and ran quickly to find the others. Daryl and Rick ran out, guns in hand, before you even made it to the door. "You okay?" Daryl asks, hand on your shoulder, as if worried you were hurt. "Yes, fine. It's him." You respond. He nods. "Stay back." He instructs, voice deep and angry sounding. You give him a look, though he is already running toward Rick. Does he really expect you to hide and avoid protecting the prison? Well, of course he does - he always tries to keep you out of fights. But, you never do. You grab a gun and line up with the rest.

It's been over a month since you've seen your group. It was so hard to lose everyone. You got away but just barely. You tried to stay by the prison, looking for the rest. But after the attack, everyone was gone or dead. You couldn't find anyone. Not even Daryl. Your heart was broken when you left, with nothing but a knife and the clothes on your back. Eventually you came across a town, called Alexandria. They took you in, though you were very hesitant at first. But they seemed to be good people, and you needed a home. You had been by yourself for too long, and were broken. You watched Hershel be decapitated before you, your friends killed and your home stolen. You were starting to feel less alive out there by yourself - more like the walkers. You have been out on a trip with Spencer and some of the others for the past few days. You had to make a long journey to find some new necessary supplies, but are on your way back now.

You sit in the passenger seat, with some sort of feeling you can't quite place. Like something is different, or something is about to happen. It make you uneasy. Spencer pulls the car through the front gates and you immediately head over to the place you share with a pair of young sisters that you have sort of taken under your wing. After a long shower and half-way decent meal, you get into a nice outfit for the party Deanna stopped by to announce. Apparently, there are new people here and she wants you to meet them. You aren't into dresses or anything, so you slip on a pair of denim skinny jeans and a nice dressy black top, your best friend's necklace she gave you from before the world ended still wrapped around your neck. You spritz on some perfume you had found on the supply run a few weeks ago and head out in the chilly night.

As you glance at her house, watching all the shadows of dancing bodies in the window and music playing, the uneasy feeling returns. You have participated in one other party that Deanna threw just after you arrived, but you still feel like an outsider here. You decide to walk around the street before heading inside, glancing at houses here and there. You noticed a man sitting on the side of one of the empty house's, on the perch. You can't see him well - he is faced away from you and it is dark. He looks muscular, and has long-ish hair. Something about him seems oddly familiar, so you decide to approach him - determining that he is one of the new people.

You clear you throat as you approach and he jerks his head toward you. You freeze, stopping in your your tracks at the foot of the stairs leading up the perch. Daryl. Your Daryl. The man you thought you would never see again.

"Y/N?" He speaks, voice almost cracking as he studies you. Tears burn at your eyes as realization hits you. He stands up, slowly stepping down the stairs, as an uncontrollable smile breaks out on your face. "Daryl!" You exclaim, throwing your arms around him. He pulls you close against his body and squeezes you tightly. You are ecstatic, tears falling from your eyes as you rest your head on his shoulder, inhaling his familiar scent, melting into his arms. No words are spoken, both of you too shocked to begin to ask the questions spinning around your head. He steps back only a little, his face a little tense as he clearly holds in tears, and collapses his head into your shoulder as he lets you stroke his hair. "I missed ya so much..." You whisper, never wanting to let him go again. "I'm so glad you're okay." You continue, before you feel your stomach drop. "Where is everyone else?" You ask, praying that he'll say that they're with him here. He shrugs his shoulder to the side a little, nodding his head across the street. "At that party," He responds, his eyes not leaving you for a second. Daryl comes to your side, catching you by surprise as he links his hand with your's. Your cheeks heat up and you smile, beginning to jog over toward the house with him, excited to reunite with the rest of them.

---

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Most of the time, the dreams I remember are fairly mundane. The one I like to cite as an example is this one: “I was riding on a bus; reading a newspaper.”

That’s it. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Occasionally, however, I’ll remember one that is worth mentioning. And, one from the other night really fits in with the #CoachJeff theme and narrative, so I thought I’d share it with you here.

As I’ve mentioned before, I served for three years as the volunteer president of our youth baseball league, Farragut Baseball, Inc. I served my original two-year term and, then, the board elected me for one more year. In a lot of ways, it was a dream job.

I had the opportunity to serve my community; to pick some areas that needed some help and shore them up. For myself and my colleagues, the years of 2006-2008 were golden years in terms of being able to advance the mission of our organization, to streamline communications with parents and volunteers and to upgrade the fields and fixtures.

I enjoyed my time in that role and, previously, (and later) as a league commissioner. Of course, it goes without saying that I enjoyed the coaching, as well, from the Choppers days toward the end to the earlier rec league years.

In the dream I mentioned earlier, I was being recognized for those years of volunteer service.

I remember, vividly, that I was talking with one of the guys who served with me. He led our field maintenance program in those days. And, in the dream, he was still involved with the league.  We were walking through some tunnels up to Field 6. Honestly, I think the building we were in was probably the equipment shed which was adjacent to the fields, but you know how dreams are. Sometimes, they’re close; sometimes they’re not quite right.

Anyway, he had set things up for me to throw out the ceremonial first pitch to start off the new season on Field 6 and to be recognized as the league’s former Prez. It was a very nice sentiment.

Also, I remember this vividly from the dream. As my name was called, I waved to the fans I went to the top of the mound. I went into a nice wind-up but my ceremonial pitch missed the strike zone; high and away—you might say—as if I were facing a right hand batter.

Anyway, it was a pretty cool dream.

Moreover, it was a pretty cool time. I was working side-by-side with my friends and colleagues. We did good work. And, I think we did leave the place better than we found it.