#dixon!reader

He's careful. As careful as he can be with alcohol on his breath and discarded powdery lines in the washroom. You push your foot forward just an inch or so only for Freddy to whimper out a little "I miss you," as opposed to the response you were looking for.

You suck your teeth, looking off to the side. It's a wonder he gets anything done, his room is a mess. Well, you suppose you could take some of the blame for his state of disarray. If only he were more responsible with his money. With Edward's money.

Kneeling down, you pout softly finally meeting his eyes. There's a hopeful light there. His eyes appearing more green than usual. You find him, your thumb brushing away a tear as the faux sympathy melts away, your expression still. "We had fun last night didn't we Freddy?" and he nods expectantly, his hair a wavy mess on his head, untamed and tired. Your thumb runs across his bottom lip and as if routine his jaw falls slack. Opening his mouth for you to do as you please. You grin. It's almost unexpected. The way your lips curl to expose your canines. You watch Freddy shiver, his eyes hooded as your thumb slips into his mouth. "Mhm. We did, yeah? Well, Fredrick," The edge on his name almost wakes him, but he's not quite there yet. His tongue dragging across your generous digit, giving you all he has to offer though he knows it's not what you want. "You owe me. Okay? D'ya hear me birdie? You owe me." He whines softly, pleading as you extract the digit from him only to replace it with two more. The middle and ring. "Say it. You owe me." You nod with him as he makes an obedient attempt to please you.

Though, you know it's impolite to speak with your mouth full.

Still he tries. He tries along with you guiding him. Your fingers posing a threat to his promise to you.

And it doesn't come out clear. It's barely anything at all. But he's cute and he owes you. You know he doesn't have it. You know his safety is up to his all too perfect baby brother. And you say it with him until he can say it on his own.

“Fuck,” you growled, watching as your hunt ran away, startled by the sudden noise and movement around it. Your energy was completely diminished, and honestly, you couldn’t remember the last time you ate or even had a clean drink of water. Letting your eyes drop and your head fall back, you sniffled, willing the tears to stay in, praying to a god that you didn’t even believe in that this damned world would give you some kind of break. Shaking off the failure and wiping the wetness off your cheeks, you began a new search; at this point, berries would have to do, you needed something to keep going, something for her. 

The leaves rustled around you followed by a loud snap of a branch. Stopping in your tracks, your vision darted around, your grip tightening on the weapon, your knuckles turning white. 

“Put the gun down, now.” A low voice growled, the hammer of a gun clicking dangerously close to your ears. The metal against your skull sent shivers down your spine as you swallowed your pride, dropping the gun to the floor. 

“Now let me see your hands and turn around.” You did as told, your mind racing as your eyes shot around, trying your best to think of plan. Think of a way out. 

“How many of there are you?” the man asked. You looked him up and down, studying the tattered light brown button-up and dark-colored denim that adorned his body. Looking back up at his face, his bright blue eyes pierced into yours, the dirt and stubble scattered on his chin. 

“I won’t ask you again. How many of you are there?” Your jaw tensed, teeth clenching as his grip tightened around the gun.

“Don’t have nothin’ you want. Jus’ let me go.” Before he could speak again, the branches next to him moved. 

“Rick wait,” a voice called, another man appearing in front of you, your daughter in their arms. Panic filled your eyes, your heartbeat increasing as he held his arms tightly around the young girl. 

“Get off of her! Jus’ leave us alone!” you demanded, taking a step toward the young Asian man. 

“Take one more step and I will not hesitate to pull the trigger.” Presumably, Rick threatened. 

“Rick,” Glenn spat, setting your five-year-old on the ground and letting her run up to you. 

“Mommy,” she whimpered, You shushed her slightly, before picking her up and holding her tightly in your arms as she tucked her head into your neck. You felt her tears wet your neck as you looked back up at the men. 

“‘S just us. Now jus’ let us go, we were jus’ tryna to find somethin’ to eat.”  

Rick took a breath, lowering his gun before glancing over at the other man. 

“How many walkers have you killed?” he asked, placing in gun back in his holster. Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked him over. 

“Just answer the question,” the other man told you, before grounding down to dig through his back. You swallowed harshly, clearing your throat. 

“Dozens.”

“How many people have you killed?” Your breath faltered and your chest flared with anger as a flashback ran through your brain.

“Two,” you spat out, your teeth involuntarily gritting. 

“Why?” 

“Tried to kill me ‘n take my daughter,” you answered quickly, shaking your head to keep the memories away, squeezing your daughter a bit tighter.  Rick took another look over his shoulder before nodding towards the little one in your arms. 

“Where’s her daddy?” 

“Dead hopefully. Wasn’t no good in the first place.” 

Rick nodded his jaw clenching and unclenching as he watched his companion hand you a slightly crunched-up granola bar. Looking at it for a second, Glenn nodded, pushing it toward you. You took it not hesitating to rip open the packaging and take a small bite to ensure its safety before whispering quietly to your daughter that you had something for her to eat. The men watched as you handed her a small piece and she gobbled it down, quickly moving on to the rest of the bar. Rick leaned over to grab your gun, turning it over to hand it back to you. Thanking him with a nod, you placed it back in your holster before gathering yourself to walk back into the unknown. Rick cleared his throat, however, before you could even take a step.

“We uh, we have a camp nearby, food, water, walls. It’s safe. Your daughter would be safe.” Rick said. You stayed silent, turning back around to look at them. 

“Why should I trust ya?” 

“If you didn’t, you would’ve killed us with that gun you have in your boot,” the Asian kid pointed out. Taking a deep breath and letting the silence linger, you watched as your daughter finished chewing the granola bar. “It’s all fer her now, ya know that right? Ya gotta give that kid a good life, better than what we had.” You hesitated but nodded nonetheless.

“Alright. Yeah, alright.” 

“Good, just know we do expect you to earn your keep. Now come on, just about half a mile from here.” You nodded, beginning to follow them, readjusting the young one on your hip.

“Names Glenn by the way, Glenn Rhee, and that's Rick Grimes,” Glenn offered, his hand outstretched to be shaken. 

“Y/n, Y/n Dixon and this is Hope,” you replied, reaching your hand out only for both of them to stop in their tracks. 

“What did you say?”

“Uh, my name?”

“No, what’d you say your last name was?” 

“Dixon?” 

“Huh, that makes a lot of sense,” Glenn interrupted. 

“What are ya on about?” you scowled taking a step back. 

“Come on, Dixon, I think camp might be closer to home than you think.” Your face wrinkled in confusion, listening to the way your name rolled off his tongue with familiarity. You let them lead you, fear filling your chest as if you had fallen right into their trap. “Don’t you trust nobody, all you got is you and me and Merle when he’s around. Keep your guard up- always.” You swallowed, reaching for the gun swiftly and cocking the hammer back. 

“What’s gon’ on? This some kind of trap?” you barked, waving the gun between the two as Rick raised his gun in your direction. Glenn looked at Rick, pushing his weapon down and placing his hands up. 

“Woah, hey no! We swear.” 

“That doesn’t mean nothin’ these days. Now ya tell me or I attract every dead one for miles around and send ‘em straight to your camp,” you threatened. 

“Daryl. Daryl Dixon.” Glenn knew immediately he had struck a cord, seeing the way the anger melted from your face and your eyes began to gloss over as your muscles weakened. 

“Is he- He’s-,” you stumbled. 

“He’s alive. He’s with our group.” You let the tears flow, holding Hope even tighter as you holstered your gun, quickly beginning to jog in the direction they had been leading you. 

“Y/n wait!” Glenn called quietly, “Rick come on.” They jogged behind you, not stopping until the large prison appeared. You slowed, waiting for the men to catch up as they whistled and the gates opened. You followed them, your head shooting around taking in your surroundings, searching. Hope wiggled in your arms, uncomfortable with the sudden movements. 

“Daryl!” Rick called to the man that was hunched over his bike. You watched with teary eyes and quickened breath as he looked up at you, recognition flashing over his features. Your chest heaved, a wobbly smile spreading on your lips as your legs moved quickly toward the man, toward your brother. You didn’t stop until your chests collided, Hope whining as she was momentarily smushed between you two. Hands shaking, you let her down, returning your arms around Daryl’s torso. 

“I thought I’d never see ya again,” you whispered, gripping his shirt and making sure it was real. His hand found the back of your head, supporting you as your face buried into his chest. 

“I-I looked for ya, every day, and when I couldn’t find ya I-” 

“Ya did what you had to do. It’s okay. Merle? Is Merle okay?” You felt him stiffen, a sharp pain aching through your heart as you held back a sob. 

 He reluctantly broke apart, a wet smile on his lips as he crouched down to be eye level with Hope. 

“Hey sweetheart, member me?” She nodded meeking, sucking her thumb anxiously. 

“Yer hair ‘s messy,” she spoke quietly, reaching her hand toward the undoubtedly longer locks. Daryl couldn’t stop the wet chuckle that escaped his lips, closely followed by the tears pricking at his eyes. He reached his arms out pinching her sides, a high pitched giggle escaping from her lips before being swopped up by the man in front of her. 

“Missed ya sunshine,” he sighed, holding her close, “now let’s get you guys somethin’ to eat, yer mom looks like she’s about to fall over.” 

-

You sat inside, taking in the cold concrete walls around you, waiting for Daryl to return with both your daughter and hopefully some form of protein. 

“Here, just caught it this morning,” Daryl hummed, setting a bowl in front of you full of some kind of meat. At this point you didn’t care, pain stabbing through your body from hunger. You looked up, making sure Hope had something as well before digging in. Daryl aided Hope in using her fork, something you couldn’t recall her ever using before. A comfortable silence lulled in the air, Daryl mumbling every so often to Hope as she finished her plate. 

“Daryl?” he hummed in response looking back up at you. 

“You trust these people?” you asked sinceriously. He nodded, readjusting Hope as she let out a yawn. 

“I do, yeah.” You nodded, shoveling the last bite in your mouth. 

“Okay, I trust you.” 

“You uh- you been alone this whole time?” he  asked reluctantly, guilt creeping in. You answered with a nod. 

“How’d you survive this long on your own?”

“Don’t be stupid, I’m a Dixon. Ain’t nothin’ different than livin’ with dad,” you scoffed, doing what you did best, hiding your fear and any sign of emotion.

“Y/n-” he sighed.

“You and M-merle went camping, and the radios started goin’ crazy. I tried to find you both, but things got- it was bad Daryl. I did what I had to do. Fer her,” you nodded towards the resting child. 

“Want me to take her?” 

“No- no. Jus’ a bit longer,” he swallowed. You nodded, sucking in a deep breath as tears filled your eyes yet again.

“We’re gonna be alright, ya know?” he whispered, placing his hand ontop of yours. 

“They look pissed,” Y/N said, glancing sideways at Glenn with a smirk.

“Nah, they’re fine,” Glenn replied, stepping out with a big, infectious smile.

A grizzled older man, Dale, stepped forward, eyes narrowed. “Holy crap! Turn that damn thing off!” he demanded, his voice cutting through the alarm.

Glenn threw his hands up, clearly frustrated. “I don’t know how!” he called back.

Shane, a younger man with a tense expression, hurried over to the driver’s side window, pointing at the car’s dashboard. "Pop the hood, please" he pleaded, though his words were nearly drowned out by the piercing noise.

Suddenly, a blond girl’s voice rang out, panicked and urgent. “My sister? Andrea!” Amy stepped forward, eyes wide with fear.

“Pop the damn hood please!” Shane shouted again, hitting the hood impatiently.

Y/N leaned forward, her fingers deftly working the latch, and the hood popped open with a soft click.

“Is she okay? Is she alive?” Amy asked, voice trembling.

“Yeah, yeah, she’s okay,” Glenn reassured, looking toward Amy with steady eyes.

Another young man emerged from the crowd, pulled out a small device from inside the car, and pressed a button. Instantly, the alarm died down. “Yes!” came the collective relief.

Amy looked desperately between Glenn and Y/N. “Why isn’t she with you? Where is she?”

Y/N stepped out of the car and slammed the door, drawing the attention of everyone nearby.

“Yes, she’s okay. Everyone is,” Y/N said firmly. She exchanged a knowing glance with Glenn.

“Well...” Glenn added quietly, “Merle not so much.”

“You crazy driving the wheeling bastard up here! You two trying to attract walkers for miles?” Shane snapped, glaring.

Dale looked around cautiously. “I think we’re okay.”

“You call being stupid okay,” Shane retorted sharply.

“The alarm was echoing all over these hills,” Dale said, nodding toward Shane. “Hard to pinpoint the source.”

Shane shot Dale a glare. “I’m not arguing, just saying—” Dale paused and then fixed Glenn with a pointed look. “It wouldn’t hurt you to think more carefully next time.”

“Sorry,” Glenn said sheepishly, gesturing toward the car. “Got a cool car.”

Shane’s gaze then shifted to Y/N. “And you,” he said, voice curious and challenging. “Who the hell are you?”

“Y/N,” she answered smoothly, leaning back against the hood.

Glenn chimed in, “She’s Daryl’s kid.”

A few of the group exchanged surprised looks.

“Surprise,” Y/N said sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

Suddenly, the low rumble of another vehicle climbed up the mountain. The group turned toward the sound to see a battered truck approaching.

Glenn and Y/N exchanged smirks before turning their attention back to the truck. Inside, Morales reached over and patted Rick on the shoulder, smiling warmly.

“Come meet everybody,” Morales said as he opened the door, stepping out and closing it behind him.

Rick pinched the bridge of his nose, exhausted but relieved. The back door of the truck opened next, and Andrea stumbled out first.

“Amy!” Andrea called softly as she stepped toward her sister.

Amy broke into tears and ran forward. “Andrea!” she shouted, wrapping her arms tightly around her sister.

The sisters clung to each other, relief washing over them both.

Next came Jacqui and Danny. The moment Danny saw Y/N, his face lit up and he dashed toward her.

“Y/N!” he called out, running full speed.

Y/N dropped to her knees, opening her arms wide. Danny threw himself into her embrace, burying his face into her neck. She wrapped her arms around him, soothing and steadying.

“I’m okay, kid.” she whispered, lifting him gently. "You were so brave" Danny wrapped his legs around her waist as she held him close, one arm under his bottom, the other steadying his back.

Nearby, Morales reunited with his wife and children, their joyful reunion filling the air.

“Come on, sweetie,” Lori said softly to Carl, rubbing his back as they began to walk away.

Shane glanced over to see Lori kneeling down, talking quietly to an upset Carl.

“You are a welcome sight,” Dale said as he embraced Morales.

“I thought we were dead for sure,” Morales laughed, his arm around his wife’s shoulders.

“How’d you get out of there anyway?” Shane asked Morales.

“New guys,” Glenn said, nodding toward Y/N. “Got us out.”

“New guys? You mean they aren’t the only ones?” Shane asked, gesturing toward Y/N and Danny, who was now perched on the back of the car, surveying the camp.

“Crazy guys who came into town. Hey, helicopter boy!” Morales shouted toward the truck. Everyone followed his gaze as Rick stepped out. “Come say hello. Guy’s a cop, like you,” Morales added with a grin.

Shane’s eyes widened at the sight of his presumed-dead partner. Rick’s expression was just as stunned as he walked forward. Lori and Carl turned to see Rick, their eyes wide in disbelief.

“Oh my god,” Rick muttered, before quickly moving toward his family.

Carl’s smile blossomed as he released Lori’s hand and sprinted toward Rick.

“Dad!” Carl shouted, running full speed.

Rick’s eyes filled with tears as he knelt, opening his arms wide. Carl leapt into him, and they collapsed to the ground, holding each other tightly as tears flowed freely.

Y/N watched the reunion with a soft smile, gently brushing Danny’s hair back.

“Looks like ya found them, partner,” she muttered quietly.

Rick stood up, holding Carl close, and turned to Lori. He kissed Carl’s temple as Lori hesitated, shock and relief warring in her eyes before she pulled them both into a tight family embrace.

Everyone watched quietly as the family reunited once again.

Lori glanced over Rick’s shoulder at Shane, who was smiling back at her. Rick caught Shane’s eye, his own red-rimmed from crying, and gave a small, heartfelt smile to his old partner.

Later that night, the group gathered around the campfire, the flickering flames casting warm, dancing shadows across their tired faces. Rick, Lori, and Carl sat closely huddled together, a quiet protective bubble surrounding them. Nearby, Andrea and Amy mirrored their closeness, with Dale settled beside them like a steady guardian. Morales sat with his family nearby, the soft murmurs of their reunion blending with the crackling fire.

Glenn and T-Dog took their places on a log nearby, while Shane sat alone a little apart from the rest, his expression guarded. Danny and Y/N sat together, the boy nestled comfortably between Y/N’s legs, his back resting against her front. His eyes were closed, peaceful at last, and in his small arms lay the stuffed lemur she had swiped from the store earlier—a small, stolen comfort in a harsh world.

Rick’s voice broke the quiet as he spoke softly, “Disorientated. I guess that comes closest.”

“Disorientated, fear, confusion… all those things but…” He hesitated, searching for the right word before continuing. “Disorientated comes closest.”

Dale nodded, setting his cup carefully on the ground beside him. “Words can be meagre things,” he said thoughtfully. “Sometimes they fall short.”

Rick looked into the fire for a moment before he spoke again. “I felt like I’d been ripped out of my life and put somewhere else.” Lori glanced up at him, then tenderly reached over to stroke Carl’s hair. “For a while I thought I was trapped in some coma dream, something I might not wake up from ever.”

Carl looked up at Rick, confusion and vulnerability in his young eyes. “Mom said you died.”

Rick’s gaze softened as he looked down at his son, then to Lori, then back to Carl. “She had every reason to believe that. Don’t you ever doubt it,” he assured, running a hand gently through Carl’s hair.

“When things started to get really bad, they told me at the hospital that they were gonna medevac you and the other patients to Atlanta, and it never happened,” Lori explained quietly.

“Well, I’m not surprised after Atlanta fell,” Y/N added, glancing at Lori.

“Yeah,” Lori replied, frowning.

Rick took in the memory. “And from the look of that hospital, it got overrun.”

“Yeah, looks don’t deceive. I barely got them out, you know?” Shane said, eyes meeting Rick’s with a mix of respect and something softer.

Rick’s gratitude was clear. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am to you, Shane. I can’t begin to express it.”

“There go those words falling short again,” Dale smiled gently. “Paltry things.”

Nearby, a man tossed another log onto the fire before settling back into his chair.

“Hey, Ed, you want to rethink that log?” Shane called out, turning his sharp gaze toward him. Everyone’s heads turned to follow.

“It’s cold, man,” Ed grumbled.

“The cold don’t change the rules, does it?” Shane asked firmly. “Keep our fires low, just embers, so we can’t be seen from a distance, right?”

“I said it’s cold,” Ed repeated stubbornly. “You should mind your own business for once.”

Shane rose and walked over to Ed’s fire, his tone dropping. “Hey, Ed… Are you sure you want to have this conversation, man?”

Ed looked up at Shane, raising his arm in challenge.

“Go on,” he said, eyes flicking back to the fire. “Pull the damn thing out. Go on!” Carol, Ed’s wife, stood up from her chair and listened, worry crossing her face.

“Christ,” Shane muttered as Carol reluctantly pulled the log out, while their daughter, Sophia, watched quietly. Shane stomped the flames out before kneeling down to face Carol and Sophia.

“Hey, Carol, Sophia, how are y’all doing this evening?” he asked, voice softer now.

“Fine. We’re just fine,” Carol answered, eyes flicking over to Ed, who shot her a cold glare in return.

“Okay,” Shane nodded.

“I’m sorry about the fire,” Carol offered apologetically.

“No, no, no. No apology needed. Y’all have a good night, okay?” Shane reassured her with a nod.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

Shane stood and fixed Ed with a cold stare. “I appreciate the cooperation,” he said, then turned and walked back toward the others.

Dale cleared his throat, breaking the moment. “Have you given any thought to Daryl Dixon? He won’t be happy to hear his brother was left behind.”

Y/N looked toward Dale, about to speak, but T-Dog beat her to it.

“I’ll tell him,” he said firmly. “I dropped the key. It’s on me.”

“I cuffed him. That makes it mine,” Rick added.

“He’s my dad. He’ll be better hearing it from me,” Y/N said without hesitation.

“Guys, it’s not a competition,” Glenn interjected, gesturing between T-Dog and Y/N. “I don’t mean to bring race into this, but it might sound better coming from a white guy or better yet, his own kid.”

“I did what I did,” T-Dog said. “Hell if I’m gonna hide from him.”

“We could lie,” Amy suggested quietly.

“Or tell the truth. Merle was out of control. Something had to be done or he’d have gotten us killed,” Andrea said, glancing toward Lori. “Your husband did what was necessary. And if Merle got left behind, it is nobody’s fault but Merle’s.”

“And that’s what we tell Daryl? I don’t see a rational discussion to be had from that, do you?” Dale asked, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Word to the wise... We’re gonna have our hands full when he gets back from his hunt.”

“No, no, you won’t. I’ll take him away and talk to him, and I’ll let him take his anger out on a tree or something,” Y/N said firmly. “He ain’t gonna hurt his kid.”

“I was scared, and I ran. I’m not ashamed of it,” T-Dog admitted quietly.

“We were all scared. We all ran. What’s your point?” Andrea asked gently.

“I stopped long enough to chain that door,” T-Dog said. Glenn turned his head to look at him. “Staircase is narrow. Maybe half a dozen geeks can squeeze against it at any one time. It’s not enough to break through that... Not that chain, not that padlock. My point... Dixon’s alive and he’s still up there, handcuffed on that roof. That’s on us.”

T-Dog stood and walked off, leaving the circle in heavy silence.

“Then he’s better than most,” Y/N said softly, smiling. Everyone turned to look at her.

“Most people would have left his ass up there and not done anything to give him protection. But T-Dog did, gave him the fighting chance, and that’s more human than a lot of people in the world now.” Y/N glanced toward where T-Dog had disappeared. “He shouldn’t be so hard on himself.”

Glenn grinned. “You still sure you’re a Dixon?”

Y/N laughed, warmth lighting her eyes as she leaned her head against Danny’s.

“100 percent positive.”

Later, Glenn led the way toward Daryl and Merle’s tent, carrying their backpacks with practiced ease. Y/N cradled sleeping Danny in her arms, the stuffed lemur pressed gently against his chest, a silent guardian for the boy. The air grew heavier as they approached, and Y/N stiffened slightly, bracing herself.

Glenn unzipped the tent flap and stepped aside. “After you,” he said.

Y/N slipped inside first, immediately recoiling just a little at the unmistakable, musky smell that filled the cramped space.

“Yup, definitely smells just like ‘em,” she said with a small grimace.

Glenn followed her in and flicked on a dim torch, the faint light casting long shadows across the cluttered interior. He set their backpacks carefully on one of the sleeping bags, while Y/N gently laid Danny down onto the other, pulling the blanket up to his neck and pressing a soft kiss to his hair.

“Sweet dreams, kid,” she whispered. Turning back to Glenn, she smiled tiredly. “Thanks for the help, man.”

“No problem.” Glenn smiled back and started to step out, but paused and turned. “Y/N?”

She hummed, encouraging him to continue.

“I was wondering, do you think I—”

“Can ask some questions?” she finished for him, noticing his hesitation. Glenn’s face twisted into a confused look, and she laughed softly. “Oh, come on. It’s obvious. You just found out that one of the most isolated and loner men in your group has a kid.”

Glenn sighed and nodded, settling down opposite her on the floor. She sat in front of Danny, gesturing for him to speak.

“Shoot.”

Glenn looked thoughtful. “Well, for starters, what happened? How come you weren’t with them when they came here?”

Y/N glanced down at her hands, her brow furrowing. “Well... we had been separated after a run-in with a herd. I ran into the forest, and they ran a different way. I’d gotten lost, and with my panicked mind, I forgot that I could track.” She shook her head, frowning. “I never found my way back and decided to just head here because I knew that my dad and uncle would be coming this way.”

Glenn chuckled softly. “I would have probably pissed myself if I was left alone out there.”

Y/N laughed along, relaxing a little. “Okay, here’s another one—how’d you meet Rick?”

Glenn smiled, intrigued. “Well, kinda a funny story actually. So about three weeks or so ago, me and Danny stumbled upon an old farmhouse. We set up shop in this truck that was there and weeks later, we hear a car. And so, I seen Rick come up the driveway and when he turned around, I held a shotgun to his head.”

Glenn raised his eyebrows, impressed. “He must have been terrified.”

“As was I, but protecting myself and Danny was the only thing running through my head.”

“That’s one thing you Dixon’s have in common. You can’t stop protecting each other.” Y/N nodded knowingly.

“Of course. It’s like the Dixon code or some shit.” Glenn grinned, then gave a big yawn and stretched. “Okay, I think that’s enough for today.”

Y/N smiled as Glenn stood reluctantly, pushing himself up. They stepped out of the tent together, the cool night air brushing against their faces.

“Night, Glenn,” Y/N said softly.

Glenn started to walk away but stopped again, turning back. “Wait, one more question. How’d you meet Danny?”

Y/N sighed, her eyes drifting back toward the sleeping boy. “His brother saved my life, so I’m returning that by protecting him.”

“And his brother? Where is he?”

Y/N’s face softened, a shadow flickering across her features. “That’s another story for another day.” She smiled gently. “Get some sleep, Pizza Boy.”

Glenn shook his head, amused, and finally walked away. Y/N watched him go, brows knitting in thought before she stepped back into the tent and zipped it closed behind her.

She slipped off her jacket and laid it beside her before settling into the other sleeping bag, turning to face Danny.

“You’ll see your brother again someday, kid. We both will.”

With that, she slowly closed her eyes, the steady rise and fall of Danny’s breath soothing her as sleep finally claimed her.

The next morning, Y/N woke to the faint glow of dawn filtering through the thin fabric of the tent. She immediately noticed Danny’s sleeping spot was empty—only his stuffed lemur lay behind, slightly crumpled as if recently abandoned. Her heart skipped a beat.

She swung her legs out of the sleeping bag and quickly slipped on her jacket, a wave of anxious urgency tightening her chest. The cool morning air hit her face as she stepped outside, the camp still quiet except for the soft rustle of leaves and distant bird calls.

Her eyes darted around, scanning the familiar faces and tents. Relief rushed through her when she finally spotted Danny sitting beside Lori, who was carefully snipping at his hair with a practiced hand.

“Morning,” Lori greeted softly, a warm smile curving her lips, though her eyes stayed focused on the delicate cut.

Danny’s face lit up with pride. “Look! I’m getting my hair cut! It’s gonna look so cool!” he exclaimed, his excitement bubbling over as he twisted his head this way and that.

Lori chuckled, a light, musical sound that eased the morning tension.

“Keep your head still for Lori, Danny,” Y/N said gently, crouching down to his level.

He nodded solemnly, his young face determined as he tried to hold still. Lori glanced up, her eyes meeting Y/N’s with quiet gratitude, then returned to her scissors.

“Don’t forget to say thank you when she’s done, okay?” Y/N added.

“Of course I will!” Danny giggled as a stray lock of hair tickled his nose, causing him to twitch in delight.

Y/N’s gaze drifted to the far side of the camp where Dale and Morales approached the red sports car, Dale hefting a heavy toolbox. Another man trailed behind them, his features unfamiliar.

“I’m just gonna go see what’s happening over there, okay? You be good for Lori,” Y/N said softly, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Danny gave a nod, settling back into stillness, and Lori smiled encouragingly at Y/N.

=

At the car, Y/N stepped beside the group inspecting the vehicle. The early sunlight glinted off the dusty metal, casting long shadows.

“Glenn isn’t gonna be happy with this,” she muttered under her breath.

“No, I’m not,” came the familiar gruff voice, and Glenn appeared beside her, arms crossed tight over his chest, eyes heavy with disappointment.

The men moved with quiet efficiency, methodically stripping parts from the car as Y/N stood watching. From behind, she heard Rick’s low voice speaking softly to Carol nearby, tension thick in the air.

Rick soon joined them, his tone resigned as he surveyed the dismantling car.

“Look at ‘em. Vultures. Yeah, go on, strip it clean.”

Dale stepped forward, carrying a bucket filled with fuel. “Generators need every drop they can get,” he explained, patting Glenn’s shoulder with sympathy. “Got no power without it.” “Sorry, Glenn,” he muttered before walking away.

Glenn’s voice was quiet but edged with frustration. “I thought I’d get to drive it at least a few more days.”

“Maybe we’ll get to steal another one someday,” Rick offered a small, hopeful smile, placing a comforting hand on Glenn’s back.

Y/N slipped her arm through Glenn’s, trying to lighten the mood. “I’ll get you another red one. Or do you want a pink one?” she teased, and Glenn gave her a playful shove, laughter breaking through the heaviness.

=

Rick heads back toward Lori and Danny, Lori pulling the damp cloth free from around his neck with care.

“There you go, Danny. Clean and fresh,” she said warmly. “You definitely look cool now.”

Danny beamed, pride shining in his eyes. “Thank you, Lori!”

“You’re very welcome. Now, why don’t you go play with Carl and Sophia?” Lori suggested, lifting a dripping towel to hang on the line.

Danny darted past Rick, then paused to look up at him with a bright smile.

“Morning, Mr. Sheriff.”

Rick chuckled, ruffling the boy’s newly trimmed hair. “Morning, Danny. Cool haircut.”

“I know! Lori should get the credit though.”

“And she will,” Rick assured him as Danny ran off toward the other kids.

“Morning, officer,” Lori greeted Rick while folding clothes nearby with Andrea and Amy. The sisters shared a brief smile before returning to their chores.

“You sleep, okay?” Lori asked quietly, watching him hang wet laundry.

“Better than in a long time,” Rick admitted, his voice low.

“Well, I didn’t want to wake you. Figured you could use it,” she said softly. Rick clenched his jaw for a moment, the weight of something unspoken pressing down on him. “God. What?”

“I’ve been thinking about the man we left behind. The man who was Y/N’s uncle.”

The two exchanged a long, heavy look before Lori replied quietly, “You’re not serious.”

Rick opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by the sound of a car rolling toward the camp.

“Water’s here, y’all,” Shane called as he pulled up. “Just a reminder to boil before use.”

Glenn and Andrea hurried to collect empty containers while Shane approached Rick and Lori. He stopped suddenly, turning back toward them with a sharp expression.

“Are you asking me or telling me?” Lori pressed.

“Asking,” Rick said flatly.

“Well, I think it’s crazy. I think it is the stupidest way to break your son-”

Suddenly, a piercing scream tore through the morning calm.

“Mom!” Carl shouted, panic rising in his voice.

“Carl?” Lori gasped, alarmed.

“N/N!” Danny’s scream rang out, and Y/N shot upright from where she had been kneeling by the car.

“Danny!”

Everyone exploded into motion, racing toward the sound.

“Dad!” Carl called out.

“Baby!” Shane grabbed his shotgun and took off running, Y/N yanking her handgun from the back of her jeans and sprinting close behind.

“Mama!” Sophia’s voice cracked with fear. “Mommy!”

“Danny!”

“N/N!”

“Rick!” Glenn shouted, tossing Rick a wooden pole. Rick caught it midstride, pushing forward alongside Shane and Glenn, with Y/N keeping pace just behind.

“Carl! Baby!”

The three children came rushing into the group, breathless and wide-eyed. Shane, Rick, and Glenn forced their way past, heading straight for the source of the screams.

“You’re okay?”

“Nothing bit you. Nothing scratched you?” Lori demanded, her voice sharp and urgent.

“No, I’m okay,” Carl answered, but Y/N’s eyes dropped to Danny’s torn pants, a dark, spreading stain of blood marking the fabric.

“Danny?” Y/N’s voice was tight, laced with sudden, sharp concern. Tears glistened in his wide eyes as they locked with hers. “Did something scratch you?”

Danny didn’t answer. His eyes dropped to the ground, guilt and embarrassment flickering across his face like shadows.

Y/N’s patience snapped. She crouched down and placed her hands firmly on his small shoulders, shaking him gently but insistently.

“Danny! Were you scratched?” she pressed, voice low but urgent. Still no response. Her frustration bubbled over. “For god’s sake, kid, WERE YOU SCRATCHED?”

“No!” Danny finally shouted, sniffling as tears threatened to spill. “I—I fell over when I was running from the walker and cut my knee.”

Y/N exhaled sharply, relief flooding through her. She pulled him into a tight hug, feeling his little body press close. He clung back, trembling slightly.

She shifted her gaze toward the chaos just a few yards away. Rick, Shane, Glenn, Jim, and Morales were hammering at the walker with whatever they could find—metal pipes, wooden sticks, anything to keep it down.

Dale raised his axe high, ready to deliver the final blow, but before he could bring it down, Y/N grabbed Danny’s arm and pulled him quickly back.

“Let’s get you cleaned up and into some fresh pants,” she said firmly, her hand resting reassuringly on his shoulder.

She maneuvered them through the crowd, gently guiding Danny past the others still focused on the walker, toward the relative calm of Daryl and Merle’s tent.

Inside, Danny sank down onto the worn sleeping bag and wrapped his arms tightly around his stuffed lemur, clutching it like a lifeline.

Y/N knelt before him and carefully rolled up his pants leg, wincing slightly when she spotted the scrape but careful not to make it worse.

“This is gonna hurt a bit, okay, kid? Just hold your lemur tight.”

She dipped a cloth into the bowl of cool water she’d brought and began to gently wipe away the dried blood, careful and methodical.

“Ow,” Danny murmured softly as the sting prickled his skin.

Y/N’s touch remained gentle, dabbing around the wound until the cloth came back clean.

Satisfied, she leaned over and pulled a large plaster from her backpack, peeling off the backing and pressing it firmly over the scrape.

“There you go. All better?” she asked with a soft smile.

Danny nodded, eyes fixed on the bright plaster, his small fingers tracing the edges.

Suddenly, shouting erupted from the main camp.

Y/N shook her head, irritation flickering in her eyes. “Wonder what’s happened now,” she muttered.

She stood, dusted her knees, and began to unzip the tent flap.

“I’ll leave you so you can change your pants. I’ll be out here when you’re done,” she said kindly, offering a small smile before closing the zipper for some privacy.

A harsh voice cut through the quiet. “Hey! Why are you in my tent, girl?”

Y/N froze. Heavy footsteps approached, and when she turned, her breath caught. Her father stood before her, his face rugged and weathered, eyes softening as he took in the sight of his daughter.

Daryl stopped short, dropping his crossbow and the bundle of dead squirrels he carried.

“Daddy,” she whispered, tears welling as she held his gaze.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice thick. They closed the gap quickly, Daryl pulling her into a fierce hug. “I thought you left me, Babygirl. Don’t you ever do that to ya old man again.”

“I’m sorry,” she choked out, burying her face in his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Daddy.”

A zipper sound made them break apart, and Danny stepped out of the tent, holding his bloodied pants in one hand.

“I’m finished, N/N,” he said quietly, glancing nervously between them.

Y/N wiped her eyes, turning to Danny and extending her hand. Daryl watched as Danny hesitated, then slowly reached out to shake it.

“Danny, this is my dad, Daryl.”

Danny looked up, his fear replaced by a bright smile. “Hello, Mr. Daryl! I’m glad we’ve finally found you.” Daryl nodded, his rough exterior softening. "Y/N really missed you and her uncle. She knew you’d be somewhere near Atlanta.”

Daryl glanced at Y/N, who smiled in confirmation.

“Followed my gut feelin’, just like Merle taught me,” Daryl chuckled softly.

“I thought we agreed I taught you everything,” Daryl teased. “Merle just taught you how to hold your alcohol and play poker.”

“True,” Y/N grinned, “and he was an excellent teacher.” Y/N reached out to ruffle Danny’s hair affectionately. “Why don’t you head back to the main camp, okay? I just gotta talk with my dad for a sec.”

Danny nodded and handed over his bloodied pants.

“See you later, Mr. Daryl,” he said with a smile.

“You too, kid,” Daryl replied, a faint smile tugging at his lips as Danny ran off.

Y/N tossed the pants inside the tent, then turned back to face her father.

“So, I need to tell you something. About Merle” she began. Daryl’s eyes narrowed, steady and serious. “Uhm, well… we kinda had to handcuff him to a pipe ‘cause he’s been an ass, and we—uhm—we left him there ‘cause we lost the key.”

She expected more reaction but Daryl’s expression barely shifted. She blinked, confused.

“You’re takin’ this surprisingly well.”

“Nah,” he grunted. “That cop and his buddy had to put me in a headlock before I could kill that son of a bitch who dropped the key.”

“T-Dog didn’t mean to drop it, Dad. He was just scared. We all were.”

Before Daryl could reply, Y/N put her hand on his shoulder reassuringly.

“He’s alive and kicking, okay? Only a Dixon can kill a Dixon—hell, scratch that, only Merle can kill Merle.”

Y/N pulled him into another tight hug. Daryl returned it without hesitation.

“You were always the right one,” he joked, “I do hate it sometimes.”

She laughed, pulling away.

“Yeah, I know you do. Now, how about you go get yourself cleaned up and then we can head to Atlanta to get Merle?”

Daryl picked up his crossbow and the dead squirrels, then paused, eyes narrowing.

Daryl’s eyes flicked over to Y/N, who met his gaze with a sad shake of her head. Slowly, reluctantly, he lowered his crossbow. A heavy silence settled over them, stretching for what felt like an eternity.

Finally, Daryl’s voice cut through, calm but edged with something darker. “You got a do-rag or something?”

T-Dog fumbled in his pocket and pulled one free, handing it over. Daryl stepped forward to Y/N and the severed hand, kneeling down. He laid the rag flat on the ground with reverence, then carefully wrapped the bloody stump.

“He can’t be dead, right?” Y/N whispered, eyes wide with a fragile hope.

Daryl straightened, voice steady. “Course not. He’s a Dixon. We don’t die easy.”

He moved to Glenn, spun him around, and opened his backpack. Glenn’s face twisted in disgust as Daryl slid the hand inside and zipped it up.

Y/N stood, brushing dust from her clothes. “He must’ve used a tourniquet… maybe a belt or something,” she said, eyes scanning the dark stains. “Would be a hell of a lot more blood if he didn’t.”

Daryl’s sharp eyes caught a faint trail of crimson and he began to follow it. Rick and Glenn exchanged a glance and fell in step behind him. Y/N stayed back with T-Dog, gathering the scattered tools from the roof.

“I’m sorry, man. I didn’t know he was gonna cut his own damn hand off,” T-Dog muttered as he bent over the toolbox.

Y/N shook her head, steadying his shoulder with a firm hand. “You don’t need to apologize. Merle Dixon’s stubborn as hell. He’s not the kinda guy who dies easy. And yeah, he’s a douche — but he’s survival smart.”

T-Dog nodded slowly, guilt and regret etched deep in his eyes.

Y/N grabbed Dale’s toolbox, and together they caught up with the others, entering through a heavy door leading to a stairwell.

Daryl kept his crossbow raised, eyes sharp, every sense on edge. “Merle? You in here?” His voice echoed off the concrete walls.

They reached another floor. Daryl stepped into an office space and without hesitation, fired an arrow through a walker’s head. The others followed cautiously, scanning the shadows.

In the lobby ahead, two walkers lay sprawled on the ground, their skulls crushed.

“Had enough fight in him to take out these two sumbitches. One handed,” Y/N said, eyes drifting to a bloodied wrench nearby.

“Toughest asshole I ever met,” Daryl muttered, reloading his crossbow. “Feed him a hammer, he’d crap out nails.”

Rick lowered his gun, voice steady but practical. “Any man can pass out from blood loss, no matter how tough he is.”

They pressed forward into the dim corridors, the weight of what they might find pressing down on them all.

Back at the camp, Andrea and Amy returned, a long chain strung with fish slung over their shoulders. Everyone’s faces lit up at the sight.

“Oh, baby, will you look at that?” Morales said, stepping forward. Andrea handed him the chain, and he lifted it up proudly just as Lori began clapping. “Ladies... because of you, my children will eat tonight. Thank you.”

“Thank Dale,” Andrea said with a small smile. “It’s his canoe and gear that made it possible.”

“Mom, look! Look at all the fish!” Carl exclaimed, reaching toward Morales as he brought the chain closer to Lori.

“Thank you,” Lori said, laughing softly.

“Whoa,” Danny muttered, looking at the dead fish alongside Carl, but not leaning in.

“Yeah, whoa,” Lori echoed, then turned to Andrea and Amy. “Where did you two learn to do that?”

“Our dad,” Amy replied, taking a long sip from her bottle.

“Can you teach me how to do that?” Carl asked eagerly.

“Oh, and me too, please!” Danny chimed in, grinning up at Amy.

“Sure. I’ll teach you both all about nail knots and stuff,” Amy said, glancing at Lori. “If that’s okay.”

“You won’t catch me or Y/N arguing with that,” Lori smiled. Danny and Carl exchanged excited looks.

“Hey, Dale,” Andrea called as he approached the group. “When’s the last time you oiled those line reels? They’re a disgrace.”

Dale’s usual cheerful expression faltered.

“I, uh, I don’t want to alarm anyone, but we might have a bit of a problem,” Shane said as he joined them. Dale pointed toward Jim, who was digging holes nearby. The group turned their attention to him.

In Atlanta, the group continued their search for Merle. Daryl’s voice echoed down the hall as he shouted, “Merle!” and peeked cautiously around a corner.

“We’re not alone here,” Rick warned, eyes sharp as he glanced around. “Remember?”

“Screw that,” Daryl snapped, stepping forward. “He could be bleeding out. You said so yourself.”

They walk into a kitchen area. Several sterno cans have been lit and are still burning. An abandoned bloody belt lies on the cook top nearby.  Blood is splattered everywhere. Rick picks up a flat iron that has been used and left with crusted remains.

“Shit,” Y/N whispered, staring at the blood smeared over the stove. Rick picked up a piece of metal with a handle, coated in dark blood.

“What’s that burned stuff?” Glenn asked, brow furrowed.

“Skin,” Rick replied grimly. “He cauterized the stump.” Glenn’s face twisted in disgust, then back to Rick.

“Told you he was tough,” Daryl said, his gaze flicking between the stove and Rick. “Nobody can kill Merle but Merle.”

“Don’t take that on faith,” Rick countered. “He’s lost a lot of blood.”

“Yeah?” Daryl says "Didn't stop him from busting out of this death trap.

Something catches Y/N's eyes, and she walked to the other side of the room, beckoning the others over.

“He left the building?” Glenn asked, eyeing the smashed window where Merle had broken out. “Why the hell would he do that?”

“Why wouldn’t he?” Y/N said, looking down at the stairs outside. “He’s out there alone, as far as he knows, doing what he’s gotta do." Rick looks out the window and sees a fire escape leading down, a blood towel on the ground nearby. "Surviving.”

“You call that surviving?” T-Dog asked, locking eyes with Y/N. “Just wandering the streets, maybe passing out? Sorry, Y/N, but what are his odds out there?”

Y/N started to reply but Daryl cut her off.

“No worse than being handcuffed and left to rot by your sorry pricks,” he said bitterly—forgetting that one of those ‘sorry pricks’ was his own daughter. Y/N, T-Dog, and Glenn looked down in shame as Daryl faced Rick. “You couldn’t kill him. Ain’t so worried about some dumb dead bastard.”

“What about a thousand dumb dead bastards?” Rick challenged, stepping closer. “Different story?”

“Why don’t you take a tally?” Daryl shot back, refusing to back down. “Do what you want. Me and Y/N are gonna go get him.”

Y/N’s head perked up at the mention of her name. Daryl moved toward the window, but Rick placed a firm hand on his chest to stop him.

“Daryl, wait,” Rick said.

Daryl jerked back. “Get your hands off me! You can’t stop me or Y/N!”

“Dad, just calm down,” Y/N stepped forward, positioning herself between the two men. “We’ve gotta work together on this.”

“He’s out there, N/N. We have to go with him. We can’t just leave him out there,” Daryl says.

“I don’t blame you. He’s family, I get that.” He gently pushed Y/N aside and faced Daryl. “I went through hell to find mine. I know exactly how you feel. Y/N went through hell to find you, and I know she gets that from you — so you’d go through hell for yours. He can’t get far with that injury. We can help you check a few blocks around... but only if we keep a level head.”

The two are right in each other's faces, but this time it's not so confrontational.

Daryl swallowed hard. “I could do that.”

Rick turned to T-Dog, who shook his head.

“Only if we get those guns first. I’m not strolling the streets of Atlanta with just my good intentions, okay?” T-Dog said firmly.

“That’s fair,” Y/N said, shrugging.

Back at the camp, Jim was still digging holes when the whole group climbed the hill toward him. Shane and Dale led the way, followed by Andrea, Amy, Danny holding Amy’s hand, and the others trailing behind. Danny glanced nervously at the man laboring in the dirt.

“Hey, Jim,” Shane called out, but there was no response. “Jim, why don’t you just hold up, alright?” Jim stopped digging and took a heavy breath. “Just give me a second, please.”

“What do you want?” Jim asked, leaning on his shovel.

“We’re all just a little concerned, that’s all,” Shane said cautiously.

“Dale says you’ve been out here for hours,” Morales added.

“So?” Jim asked sharply.

“So why are you digging?” Shane pressed. “You heading to China, Jim?” He gave a weak laugh.

“What does it matter? I’m not hurting anyone.”

“Yeah, except maybe yourself. It’s a hundred degrees today,” Dale said, eyeing Jim’s sweat-soaked shirt. “You can’t keep this up.”

“Sure I can. Watch me.”

“You’re gonna get sick, Mr.—” Danny tried to speak up.

Jim glanced down at the boy and gave a sad smile. “I’ll be alright, son.”

Lori stepped forward to stand beside Dale, arms crossed.

“Jim, they’re not gonna say it, so I will. You’re scaring people,” she said softly.

Jim paused, looking Lori in the eye. “You’re scaring my son, Carol’s daughter, and Y/N’s brother,” Lori added.

“But I’m not scared. Just worried,” Danny whispered, looking up at Amy. She smiled gently, wrapping an arm around his shoulder but said nothing.

“They got nothing to be scared of. I mean, what the hell, people? I’m out here by myself. Why don’t you all just go and leave me the hell alone?” Jim waved his arm dismissively and turned back to the holes.

“We think you should take a break, okay?” Shane stepped forward. “Why don’t you get yourself into the shade? Some food, maybe. I’ll tell you what—maybe in a little bit, I’ll come out here and help you myself. Jim, just tell me what it’s about. Why don’t you give me that shovel?”

Jim shoves it into the ground and looks at Shane. “Or what?” Jim asked, leaning hard on the handle.

“There is no ‘or what.’ I’m asking you. I’m coming to you, and I’m asking you, please. I don’t want to have to take it from you.”

“And if I don’t, then what?” Jim challenged, eyes flashing. “You gonna beat my face in like Ed Peletier? Y’all seen his face, huh? What’s left of it?” His voice rose. “See, that’s what happens when someone crosses you.” Jim goes back to digging.

“That was different, Jim,” Shane said, jaw tight.

“You weren’t there. Ed was out of control. He was hurting his wife.” Amy says.

“He’s a bully,” Danny added quietly. Jim puts the shovel back into the dirt.

“That’s their marriage. That’s not his,” Jim said bitterly. Carol hugged Sophia and turned her away from Jim’s glare. “He’s not judge and jury.” He looked Shane straight in the eye. “Who voted you king boss, huh?”

“Jim, I’m not here to argue with you, alright? Just give me the shovel,” Shane said, reaching for it.

Jim pulled the shovel away sharply. “No, no, no.”

Shane presses forward as Jim pushes him back. “Just give me—Jim!” Shane began but was cut off as Jim swung the shovel at him, only for Shane to use the momentum to then tackle him to the ground. “Okay, shhh, shhh,” Shane soothed.

“You got no right!” Jim shouted, struggling as Shane get's Jim onto his belly, pulling one of his arms back and around.

“Jim, just stop it. Hey, hey, hey, hey.”

“Don’t!” Jim shouted, breathing hard into the dirt.

“Jim. Jim, nobody’s gonna hurt you. You hear me? Shh." Shane continues to sooth, while Jim begins panting and crying. "Jim, nobody’s gonna hurt you, okay?”

“That’s a lie. That’s the biggest lie there is,” Jim spat, voice breaking as Shane handcuffed him. “I told that to my wife and my two boys. I said it a hundred times. It didn’t matter.” His voice cracked. “They came out of nowhere. There were dozens of ‘em. Just pulled ‘em right out of my hands.”

Lori’s eyes widened in horror.

“You know, the only reason I got away was ’cause the dead were too busy eating my family.”

Lori covered her mouth as the camp looked on, their faces filled with sympathy.

Back in Atlanta, the group sat in a sparse, office-like room. T-Dog and Glenn were on the floor. Rick stood near the door, Daryl leaned against the table, and Y/N sat opposite her dad, perched on the table.

“You’re not doing this alone,” Rick said, looking down at Glenn.

“Even I think it’s a bad idea—and I don’t even like you much. And I’m not putting my kid in danger,” Daryl added, making Y/N scoff quietly.

“It’s a good idea, okay? Just hear me out.” Glenn crouched over a rough map drawn on the floor, marking spots with a stick. “If we go as a group, we’re slow. We draw attention. If I’m alone, I can move fast. Y/N moves faster, and she can protect me from any walkers up close.”

He pointed at the sketch. “That’s the tank, five blocks from here. That’s the bag of guns. And here”—he looked up at Rick and Y/N—“is the alley I dragged you into when we first met. That’s where Daryl, Y/N, and I will go.”

“Why us?” Y/N asked, narrowing her eyes.

“Daryl’s crossbow is quieter than his gun,” Glenn said, nodding toward Rick. “And you’re handy with your knives. While Daryl waits in the alley, me and Y/N run up the street, grab the bag.”

“You got us covered elsewhere?” Rick asked.

Glenn picked up a rubber band and placed it on the map. “You and T-Dog will be in this alley here.”

“Two blocks away? Why?” Rick asked, frowning.

“We might not come back the same way.” Glenn pointed to the street. “Walkers might cut us off. If that happens, we don’t go back to Daryl. We push forward, all the way around to that alley where you guys are.” He traced the path clearly on the drawing. “Whichever direction we go, we got you in both places to cover us. Afterwards, we'll all meet back here.”

“Hey, kid, what’d you do before all this?” Daryl asked curiously.

“Delivered pizzas,” Glenn said, confused. “Why?”

The group exchanged surprised looks before Y/N whistled softly.

“Pretty good strategy for a pizza boy,” she said with a grin.

=

Later, Glenn, Daryl, and Y/N climbed down a ladder and ran into the alley, hiding behind a dumpster. Daryl loaded his crossbow while Y/N pulled two knives — one from her boot, the other from her sleeve — holding them ready.

“You got some balls for a chinaman,” Daryl said with a smirk.

“I’m Korean,” Glenn replied, annoyed.

“Whatever.”

“Behave,” Y/N warned as she and Glenn slipped from the dumpster and sprinted down the street. Several walkers noticed them but didn’t aggressively chase yet. They ducked behind cars, then jumped over a low wall of trash bags.

Meanwhile, Daryl stayed behind the dumpster. A young man of Mexican descent walked down the alley. Daryl raised his crossbow, aiming it at the boy.

“Whoa, don’t shoot me! What do you want?” the boy asked, eyes wide.

“I’m looking for my brother. He’s hurt bad. You seen him?” Daryl demanded, keeping the crossbow trained on him.

“Ayudame!” the boy shouted suddenly.

“Shut up! You’re gonna bring the geeks down on us. Answer me!”

Glenn and Y/N noticed walkers converging on them. Glenn grabbed the bag of guns and started to run. Y/N quickly turned back, snatching Rick’s sheriff’s hat off the ground.

She stabbed a walker trying to close in on Glenn, then ran back down the street with him.

“Ayudame! Ayudame! Ayudame!” the boy screamed.

Rick and T-Dog heard the yelling and rushed toward Glenn, Y/N, and Daryl’s alley.

Suddenly, Daryl struck the boy with his crossbow, knocking him to the ground, then covered the boy’s mouth.

“Shut up. Shut up. Shut up,” Daryl hissed, struggling to keep the boy quiet.

Two strange men come running up on Daryl. The first one stomps on him, knocking him off his feet. The first one keeps kicking him while the second one uses a baseball bat to beat him. Glenn and Y/N runs into the alley sees them beating on Daryl and stops.

“Dad! Back off, assholes!” Y/N yelled, drawing her knife. The two men turn their attention to Y/N and Glenn, and they leave off beating Daryl and run towards them.

“That’s it! That’s the bag, vato!” one man shouted, charging forward.

“Glenn, go! Go!” Y/N shouted, lunging to stab the man. But he caught her arm, twisting it painfully. She yelped as he punched her face, knocking her down.

The two men rushed past her. Before Glenn could run, they grabbed him, punching him to the ground and beating him.

“Take it! Take it!” the man yelled.

Y/N, dazed, got to her feet and leapt on the main attacker’s back, wrapping her arms around his neck and biting hard, drawing blood.

The other man grabbed her hair and slammed her head into the wall.

“You puta! You fucking bit me! I’m gonna kill you—”

He was cut off by a cry of pain as Daryl shot him in the rear with his crossbow.

“Ah! Ah!”

The two attackers started retreating, one of them backing out of the alley using Glenn as a shield. The other dragging a bloodied and limp Y/N.

“Let us go! Let us go! Daryl! Daryl! Daryl!” Glenn pleaded, struggling.

A car pulled up, and they are quick to jump in, the first guy shoving Glenn in before running around to the passenger side, taking out a walker while doing so. The second shoves Y/N in, before getting in himself.

“Y/N!” Daryl shouted, running past their other friend, the one they are leaving behind, and towards the car, which quickly pulls away just as he gets there “Come back here, you sumbitches!”

The walkers are now attracted to Daryl behind the gate, and he pulls it closed as they begin pushing against it. Rick and T-Dog come running up from behind, the kid getting to his feat.

Daryl is quick to grab the boy and slam him against the wall, only for Rick to get between them before Daryl can do any more.

“Whoa, whoa! Stop it!” Rick said, stepping between them.

“I’m gonna kick your nuts up in your throat!” Daryl growled.

“Let me go!” the boy shouted, T-Dog now holding the kid up against the wall.

“Chill out!” T-Dog barked.

“They took Glenn and Y/N. They smashed her head into the wall. That little bastard and his little bastard homie friends. I’m gonna stomp your ass!” Daryl raged, pointing at the boy.

“Guys! Guys! We’re cut off!” T-Dog warned, nodding toward the walkers closing in.

“Get to the lab! Go!” Rick shouts and T-Dog grabbed the boy and started running.

Rick bent down to pick up the guns and saw his sheriff’s hat on the ground beside a bloodstain on the wall. He looked down, concern tightening his face.

“You better be okay, kid,” he muttered, grabbing the hat and Y/N’s dropped bag before running down the alley, followed closely by Daryl.

Glenn pushes himself against the other door, trying to open it only for it to be locked.

“Just let us go! We need to get back!” His voice cracked with desperation and anger.

His gaze darted to Y/N, who was slumped limply against the man’s shoulder, eyes closed and face stained with blood. The frantic energy in Glenn’s movements began to ebb, replaced by a careful, cautious calm.

“Please… let me go. I need to check if she’s okay.”

“The bitch’s fine,” Felipe sneered with a cruel grin, voice rough and unapologetic. “She deserved every bit of it anyway.”

“She didn’t deserve this.” Glenn’s hand gestured helplessly toward her bruised, battered face. “You attacked her, her dad, and me. What else was she supposed to do?”

“Well, her fucking dad shot me in the ass. Consider this payback.”

“Quit whining about your ass, Felipe,” Vato snapped sharply, shooting a warning glare at the man Y/N has her head on.

“How about you get shot in the ass next time? Then we’ll see who’s whining.” Felipe voice dropped low, threatening.

With a sudden surge of strength, Glenn shoved the man away and yanked Y/N free from Felipe's shoulder, cradling her gently but protectively against him

“What are you gonna do with us? Kill us?” Glenn’s question trembled slightly, fear threading through his words despite the steady tone.

“That’s up to the boss, chinaman,” Vato spat the word with venom. “And after what you did to me? I doubt it’s gonna be good.”

“He’s Korean, asshole,” Y/N muttered, her eyelids fluttering open just enough to glare weakly in Vato’s direction.

Relief flooded Glenn’s features as he caught her faint, defiant gaze.

“Surprised you’re awake, girl,” Vato said with a mocking sneer. “I smashed your head in good.”

“And I bit your friend real good. Nice scar he’s gonna have,” Y/N spat back, her voice rough but sharp. “Don’t forget the arrow scar in his ass. Be grateful it was only a warning shot.”

“You be grateful I didn’t smash your head in like I did that walker, puta,” Vato said, turning away with a hard glare toward the grimy, cracked window beside them.

“Fucker,” she muttered under her breath, carefully lifting her head and using her sleeve to wipe away the thick blood trailing from her nose. A low groan escaped her lips. “Danny and Daryl aren't gonna be happy about this.”