#ficnation

The moment the door slammed shut behind him, you crossed your arms over your chest, tapping your foot nervously. The man looked at your mad face, dumbfounded.

“Hey, I didn’t kill anyone today!” he protested, throwing his arms in the air as far as the vehicle’s roof let him. You couldn’t be mad at him if he did nothing wrong, right?

“What do you want? A gold star?” Your sarcastic voice made him roll his eyes, but it didn’t take long for his usual grin to take over his features once again.

“I’d prefer a kiss, darlin’.”

“Not happening. I’m not even sure if I believe you,” you responded, your voice harsher than you intended. It wasn’t wise of you to talk to Negan like that, but you didn’t care about much stuff these days.

You turned around to look at Alexandria’s gates through the back window, biting down on your lip in worry. The action didn’t sit well with Negan. It made him feel like you cared more about the people there than you should.

“I want that kiss right now.” He grabbed your chin, making your eyes find him again. And you were damn sure that whole fuss wasn’t about you not giving him a kiss.

The distance between your faces was significantly smaller than before. Your noses almost touched, and you could feel his breath brushing over your warm cheeks. You weren’t sure whether you were supposed to be scared or not, but his presence definitely enraged the butterflies in your stomach.

“Where do your loyalties lie, birdy?” he whispered, making sure you looked him right in the eyes when he said it.

“Negan—”

“Don’t.” The man’s grip on your chin grew harsher. “You need to choose whose side you’re really on ’cause I can’t have you bailing on me when it’s time to pick.” You whimpered quietly, and it made his hold lessen once again.

You listened to his words, carefully trying to come up with an answer that wouldn’t make him even angrier. You knew your safe haven in ASZ was long gone when you decided to stand by Negan’s side to save your family. They couldn’t comprehend why you did that, so they turned their backs on you.

“The clock is ticking.” Negan’s finger nudged your cheek playfully. He liked the power he held over you, but he liked keeping you on your toes even more.

You finally found the strength to meet his piercing eyes and answer, “I’m here, aren’t I?”

You recognized the look in his eyes quickly, he wanted to dig into your sanity even more, but you weren’t going to let him do that. Pulling the scraps of bravery from the back of your mind, you grabbed the collar of Negan’s leather jacket and closed the distance between you, meeting his lips in a heated kiss.

You pulled away for air and reassured yourself more than him, “I’m here with you.”

Your answer satisfied Negan for now, and he let you pull him back for another kiss while his hands tangled themselves in your hair.

“Ya gettin’ in or what?” Daryl’s gruff voice sounded from inside the tent right when you stepped over to open the flap. 

You rolled your eyes and slipped in through the opening, zipping it up all the way behind you. Because of the humidity coming from the lake, mosquitos seemed to appear out of thin air and lurk around every corner. You could no longer count the number of itchy bumps on your skin. Just thinking about it made you furiously scratch your arm. 

“Stupid fuckin’ mosquitos,” you cursed under your nose, crawling into the sleeping space of the tent and flopping down on the hard floor. The blanket you laid on didn’t do much to isolate your back from the unforgiving coldness of the ground beneath, and you knew another uncomfortable and freezing night had just started for you. 

“Ya want som’ thyme for it?” 

Your eyes snapped wide open at the words, and you propped yourself up on your forearms to look at Daryl. You had to make sure you didn’t just imagine him speaking to you in a fairly calm voice. The archer avoided meeting your eyes, lying beside you and looking up at the disgusting green color of the tent’s roof. You shook your head in disbelief at his offer before retracting your gaze. 

“It’s hideous, right?” You let yourself fall back down, staring at the canvas above with a raised brow. You waited patiently for Daryl to find the courage to speak. 

A small flashlight was lying by Daryl’s feet that was pointed at the roof to illuminate the whole tent with delicate yellow light. It was the only thing that saved you from jabbing him with your elbow or knee while moving around the tent. The tent was so small it barely fit two people, and keeping at least some kind of distance between each other was challenging and awkward. The idea of lying squashed like sardines with your younger brother, who seemed to hate your guts, wasn’t exactly inviting. 

“Didn’ know it was like tha’,” he started, his fingers nervously tapping at the covered ground. He fell silent after those words escaped his lips, and for a moment, you thought that was all he had to say before he turned toward you, boring his blue eyes into the side of your face. “If ya jus’ said somethin’ earlier…” he trailed off. 

“I couldn’t,” you defended yourself, fingers playing with the stretched-out hem of your shirt. Nervously, you rubbed the black fabric between your thumb and pointer finger. 

“Don’ bullshit me.” Daryl scoffed at you, rolling his eyes. You looked at him, offended and kind of hurt that he didn’t believe you. You had no reason to lie to him. “Ya were jus’ scared shitless to admit ya fucked up. Yer whole gettin’ outta ‘ere and bein’ better than us bullshit didn’ work out.” 

You sat up in shock, staring at the space in front of you. The scowl on your face could be seen probably from miles away, but you tried to snuff out the rage that started to boil in your blood. “Daryl fucking Dixon, what the hell did you make yourself believe?” 

“Tha’s the fuckin’ truth! Ya always been the self-righteous one. Thinkin’ ya can do better, leave us behin’. Guess it was time for ya to fuckin’ wake up,” he spat out the words, his jaw clenched tightly. 

You snorted at that, pulling your legs up to your chest and crossing your arms over them. The scowl fell off your face as quickly as it made its way there. You didn’t seem phased by what he said anymore. You rested the side of your face on your arms as you looked him right in the eye. 

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve never as much as thought that you are less than me and I never will. Merle? Sure, he’s a dealer junkie that sleeps in a cell every few days. He doesn’t even want to be better,” you explained, shaking your head sadly. 

The mere thought of your older brother’s shenanigans made your eyes roll involuntarily. Since you could remember, he was always dragging you and Daryl into trouble, getting you into parties with local junkies and prostitutes, stuffing drugs down your pockets so you could sell his stuff to your friends. He justified himself that no one would dare to harm a hair on your head if he was around, but he was never truly there for you when shit hit the fan. Juvie, military, prison—he was anywhere but home. Yet he believed he was your hero, “saving you” from Will—the evil dragon—but it was all play pretend. You and Daryl saved each other without his—so-called—help. 

“I wanted you to go with me because I knew you wanted more from life. You aren’t dumb, Daryl. You could’ve had any job you fucking wanted.” You stared into his blue eyes, a melancholic smile on your lips. “You’re so much smarter than me and Merle combined,” you continued, and at your words, Daryl rolled his eyes and snorted ungracefully. 

“Ain’t much of a compliment,” he mumbled, making you chuckle.

You swatted at his arm playfully. “You know what I mean, asshole.” 

“Wha? Not my fault ya and Merle have half a brain combined.” Daryl raised his brow at you, challenging you to argue with him any further. He propped himself up on his forearms just like you did minutes ago. You exchanged cheeky smiles in silence for a moment, but then the air shifted back into seriousness. 

“Will we ever be good, Daryl?” you whispered more to yourself than to him. 

You wished you could goof around carelessly like you did before you left the trailer park. You wished everything would just go back to how it was back then—more than ten years ago. It wasn’t possible, though, and you knew it. You weren’t the same person anymore, and neither was he.

Daryl’s eyes bored into your skull while he contemplated quietly. “Someday… Someday we will.”

Even if it wasn’t necessarily the answer you wanted it to be, it was more than you had expected. You accepted your brother’s words with a nod of your head, lying back on the floor and turning away from him. You curled your legs up to your chest and pulled the sleeves of your shirt over your palms, hugging yourself to keep warm. 

“Good night, Daryl,” you mumbled out before your eyes closed. 

“Night, kid,” he replied, throwing his own blanket over you before he turned off the flashlight and rolled to his side, back to back with you.

The relentless rustling and groaning from outside woke you up in the middle of the night, disturbing your already shallow slumber. You sat up startled, rubbing the sleep off your bleary eyes. Your mind still hasn’t caught up to your current situation, and you didn’t really know what the groans foreshadowed. 

“What’s going on?” Daryl asked, sensing your sudden change in position.

He reached out to turn the flashlight on, but you quickly caught his arm and stilled it. Or maybe it was his ankle; you couldn’t really tell in the dark, but at least the action stopped Daryl from continuing. You strained your ears to make sure the noises that awoke you were really there, but you didn’t hear anything anymore. You breathed out a sigh of relief before falling back like a log onto the blanket beneath.

“It’s nothing. Just my imagination,” you mumbled out. 

The moment you closed your eyes, determined to go back to sleep, another growl sounded from outside the tent, this time louder than before. You shot up again, accidentally jabbing Daryl in the side with your elbow. The man let out a pained grunt before he sat up as well, straining his ears. 

“Daryl, we need to get out of here!” you whispered in a panicked tone, throwing the blanket off your body. It didn’t do shit to help you stay warm at night anyway. “It was one of the undead.”

“No shit,” he growled out, barely audible, already scrambling around in the dark in search of his crossbow and your rifle. 

It was crazy how quick the noise made all the tiredness disappear from your body. The adrenaline surged in your blood, and the screaming in your head to run or fight was louder than any other thought. You’ve never felt safe in this world, but before the outbreak, you could at least hope for a better tomorrow; now, you didn’t think it was possible. 

Despite the darkness, you somehow managed to slip your sock-clad feet into your boots and stuff the flashlight into the pocket of your pants. The both of you crawled over to the entrance as quickly and stealthily as it was possible. You took the rifle from Daryl’s hand and swung it over your shoulder. You let him fumble around with the tent’s zipper, staying behind and trying not to let the panic swallow your whole being while you waited.

“C’mon,” your brother ushered you out of the tent quietly, letting you step outside before him. “Sounds like more than jus’ one of ’em to me.”

You stumbled blindly outside. The moonlight filtered through the canopy of leaves above you like a dulled and dispersed spotlight. Your eyes were already adjusted to the darkness, so the night seemed surprisingly bright. You didn’t have time to admire your surroundings for long. Since the canvas no longer muffled the noises, you could hear the familiar growling clearly, and Daryl was right—there was definitely more than one stumbler in your little camp.

A few crickets chirped suddenly somewhere close to you, making you gasp, startled. You winced and pressed your palm tightly to your mouth to repress any other sound from escaping it. Daryl’s quickened breathing told you he was just as stressed by the thought that they could hear the tiniest sound you made as if the quiet rustling of the bedding could make their eyes snap toward you at any moment. This time you were lucky—the stragglers didn’t seem to have heard you. 

You wanted to ask Daryl about Merle and his whereabouts, about what you were supposed to do and where you could possibly run to, but you didn’t dare to part your lips again. You could feel your heart hammer furiously in your chest, making your whole body tremble in a gracious dance to its rhythm. Tired of waiting for something to happen, you moved forward in a crouch, burying your fingers in the leaf litter to keep some semblance of balance. For your own good and sanity, you hoped you were as stealthy as you imagined yourself to be after months of sneaking around different places—that you were not supposed to be in—with the Red Devils. 

You scrambled for the nearby bushes outside the small clearing occupied by your tent and vehicles. In the distance, you could see the silhouettes of the undead shuffling around the pickup and Merle’s bike.

Speaking of which—where the fuck was that asshole? You were sure he wasn’t dead—he couldn’t be—but the silence was weirdly disturbing. Your older brother was the loudest and most obnoxious man you’ve ever met. It was suspicious of him to be quiet even in a situation like this. He was born unable to keep his mouth shut. 

Once you and Daryl were safely hidden behind the bushes, you grabbed the hem of his vest, tugging at it to get his attention. “Where the fuck is Merle? He was supposed to be on watch,” you asked, gritting your teeth in annoyance. 

“How the fuck should I know?” 

Before you could retort back, you saw something moving in the distance behind Daryl. It took you a second to realize what was coming, and if it wasn’t for the moon shining so bright in the sky—you didn’t even want to imagine what could’ve happened. You pushed your brother with all the force you had left in yourself, making him fall flat onto the ground, twigs and dirt tangling in his light brown hair. You followed in his steps immediately, throwing yourself face-first onto the litter. A sharp shining object swished past your lying forms milliseconds after, cutting through the air where Daryl’s head just had been. The knife rammed into the ground at your feet. You didn’t move for several moments, both breathing deeply with eyes wide open in shock and relief. 

“What the fuck?!” Daryl snarled as he scrambled to his feet, looking in the direction the weapon came from. 

“Bet my right hand we just found Merle,” you scoffed, standing up on shaky legs.

You dusted yourself off, but it didn’t help much. Your pants were still mucky, with dirt, leaves, and twigs sticking to the fabric like glue. You quickly gave up trying to pry them off, remembering there were more important things you had to deal with first. Everything else could wait, but before you’ve dealt with Merle and the creepers, you had to keep your guard up and eyes focused on your surroundings. 

“Over ‘ere!” you heard your older brother’s voice call through the forest, not a care in the world about the goddamn undead.

Daryl took a look at the camp you’d left behind. The stragglers shuffled around the clearing, looking for their next meal. They either didn’t hear Merle’s booming voice or were too distracted by the smell of squirrels’ remains that were thrown out carelessly by the edge of your camp. 

You walked over to your older brother, and before anything could be said or done by any of the men, you punched Merle straight in the face, making him step back in pain and shock. His hand shot up to hover over his bleeding nose. Your clenched fist hurt, but the pain was good—it was worth it. 

“You pull shit like that one more time, and I swear I’ll stick that knife so far up your ass.” You scowled at him but raised your hands in the air as a gesture of peace when Daryl stepped between the two of you and sent you a scolding stare. 

“Damn, Baby. Thought ya were walkers lookin’ for some goodies.” Merle chuckled at his own words, and it took all strength in you not to push Daryl out of your way and hit him again. 

“I don’t fucking care what you thought we were,” you growled out through clenched teeth. “Daryl could’ve gotten seriously hu—”

“Can ya both shut yer mouths? Ya can bicker later after we get outta ‘ere,” Daryl cut you off, his eyes trailing around the forest to ensure there were no other infected around. His fingers tapped the crossbow nervously. 

You ignored him, slipping your rifle off your back to clutch it safely in your hands before you continued in a hushed voice, “Why didn’t you wake us up?” 

“Wasn’t gonna disturb yer beauty sleep.” You wanted to wipe that smug smirk off his stupid face. “Figured it’s jus’ two creeps, should be easy enough tah get rid of.”

Daryl scoffed dismissively at Merle’s stupidity, not even sparing your older brother a glance. He started walking in the opposite direction of your camp, his crossbow ready to shoot in his hands. You followed after him, and so did Merle, although he protested about leaving your things—mainly his bike—behind. 

“Don’t know how he threw that knife, he’s as high as a kite,” you stated, catching up to your younger brother. You matched his pace, glancing over your shoulder from time to time, making sure Merle didn’t wander off in his delirious state. 

“Don’t matter. He ain’t even thinkin’ clearly. There were four of ’em at least.” Daryl shook his head, already exhausted by the situation at hand. 

“What are we gonna do about him?”

At the exact same moment the question left your lips, Merle tripped behind the two of you and fell on his ass with a grunt that preceded a clamorous: “Fuckin’ hell!” The faint groans in the distance made Daryl, and you freeze in your spots, heavy feet glued to the ground. They didn’t sound that far away. The realization made you come unstuck, and you jogged over to your older brother. 

“Damn it, get up!” 

You grabbed him by the arm and hauled him to his feet while he giggled like a fucking schoolgirl. Who put themselves in a state like that in the middle of an apocalypse? It wasn’t the time and place for that. You didn’t get it at all; if he wanted to live, he had to be able to fight, not trip over his own feet every five seconds. Yet Merle proved himself to be untrustworthy and unable to look after his own ass once again. No wonder he failed at making sure you could get at least a few hours of sleep safely. 

“I swear Merle, whether you are my blood or not,” you started, grunting when he threw his arm over your shoulder, “I will leave you here to get eaten by those monsters.” You tried to keep moving forward, but the weight he leaned on you didn’t make it easy.

“I ain’t seein’ any creeps’ ere. Say we’re pretty safe, dontcha think?” It took everything in you to not kick him away and say you were done. 

Daryl watched your backs in silence. He had no idea what to do either—despite spending the last ten years with him one-on-one. You still couldn’t believe he survived it without putting a gun to Merle’s head—or maybe he did, but decided not to pull the goddamn trigger. 

You heard the groans getting closer, another one joining and a third following. The shuffling and rustling of leaves told you there were more of them than at the camp. You watched the horror build up in Daryl’s eyes as he tried to tell how many of them could possibly be straggling toward you. 

Then all hell broke loose.

When you heard Diego’s steps nearing the door to your bedroom, you pulled the comforter even further up your face. You didn’t want him to see you this way, but what could you possibly do when he was already outside the door to your room?

You wanted to tell him to go away and leave you alone, but the words wouldn’t escape your parted lips no matter how much you wanted to get them out.

There was a soft knock on the wooden door before it opened wide with a painful creak.

“There you are,” Diego said when his eyes found your silhouette hidden underneath the covers. His voice turned cheerful now that he’s found you. “What are you doing in bed? It’s afternoon.”

He stepped closer before sitting down on the edge of the bed, his hand gently pulling off the comforter so he could look at your beautiful face. But when your eyes didn’t meet his, and a smile didn’t take over your features, he took a deep sigh.

“It’s back, isn’t it?” Diego reached out his hand to push a lonely strand of hair away from your forehead.

You nodded weakly in response, and it was all it took for your partner to spring into action. He left your side for a few minutes disappearing into the bathroom before you could hear the sound of running water. When he came back, he quickly threw the covers off of you and lifted you up into his arms. You looked at him confused while he carried you towards the bathroom.

“Diego, what are you doing?” you asked, holding onto his neck with your arms loosely thrown over his shoulders. You didn’t have to worry about falling because Diego would never let that happen.

Inside the bathroom, he sat you down on the edge of the tub, helping you get out of your clothes so you could step into the bubbly water. You curled your legs up, resting your head on your knees and watching how the water rippled with your movement before it stilled again.

Diego took care of you, gently splashing the warm water onto your back and arms. He even washed and conditioned your hair, sculpting a mohawk on top of your head and making you smile weakly at his antics. His heart flapped cheerfully at that sight, and he wished that grin would stay on your face forever.

When the water got cold, Diego decided it was time to finish the bath. He helped you climb out of the bathtub and left you in the room alone so you could dress in the clothes he placed on the edge of the sink. In the meantime, Diego grabbed your laptop from the desk and put on one of your favorite shows. He thought about running to the kitchen to get some snacks but decided against it because he wasn’t sure if he would even find anything in the cupboards.

Entering the room, you frantically searched for your partner’s silhouette. At first, you didn’t really want him to see you in this state, but his presence made the bad thoughts in your head too foggy to focus on. Diego’s gentle words and touch made you feel lighter and more present. You weren’t sure you could get out of your mind that fast without him.

“Chop chop, get in,” Diego’s voice beckoned, making your eyes snap in his direction, and in what seemed like seconds, you were already crawling underneath the covers beside him. “Still too far away.” The man sighed, pulling you closer, so your side was pressed tightly to his body.

“Thank you, Diego,” you mumbled after a few minutes of silence between you. You were so lucky to have him in your life.

“What are you thanking me for?” He kissed your forehead, leaning his cheek on the top of your head. “I’m just here for you to remind you how strong you are. And you’ll get through whatever is bothering you, love.”

Diego will make sure of it. He wasn’t going to leave you alone with your thoughts.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Merle’s muttering was the only thing that disturbed the silence. He was too stunned and not high enough to say anything more. 

You sniffled, wiping the tears off your cheeks with the back of your hand. None of you had the tiniest idea of what to do now that the cat was out of the bag. Were you supposed to elaborate or wait for them to ask questions? Should they even ask questions? It wasn’t a typical situation that just happened to anyone from time to time. You killed seven people. Seven. 

The quick beating of your heart was even more frustrating than the thoughts running through your head. It felt like it wanted to jump out of your chest and fall onto the leaf litter with a wet splash of blood. You wrung your hands nervously, avoiding your brothers’ eyes on your person. You had no idea if you could even look them in the eyes after this confession.

“I-” you started, looking for words to explain yourself, but Daryl’s stern glare made you shut your mouth before anything else could come out of it. 

Your younger brother pointed an accusatory finger at you before striding towards you, taking long slow steps as if you were going to run like a spooked animal before he could reach you. No one could tell if the look in his eyes was rage or anguish, or maybe it was both mixed with confusion.

“Ya jokin’, right? Ya think tha’s gonna make me forgive ya?” You shrug your arms in defeat, focusing your gaze on his boots. “Then yer fuckin’ wrong,” he whispered menacingly, his breath brushing over your cheeks.

“Hey!” Merle shouts, taking Daryl’s stance so close to you as threatening, but he doesn’t move. “Ya get yer ass away from ‘er!” 

His support didn’t make you feel better at all, and you knew it would only fuel Daryl’s outburst. You shuffled away from both of them, but instead of distancing yourself, you tripped over a tree root and landed on your bottom with a grunt. Nothing was going the way you hoped it would. 

“I’m not Will. I ain’t gonna hit ‘er, asshole,” your younger brother said through clenched teeth. The broken look in his eyes made your heart pound in your chest, and it hurt. 

You wanted to get up from the ground and tell him that you didn’t think he was like Will for even a second. The urge to hug him tight and let him know he’s nothing like your father was hard to resist. But you had to hold yourself back, afraid that you’d just push things further.

“I can explain everything. I can tell you why I couldn’t come back,” you tried, looking him right in the eyes. “Please, just give me a chance, Daryl.”

You decided it wasn’t worth it when you saw the anger simmering behind his irises. His face looked even angrier than before, almost frightening. And you couldn’t help but wonder how far things would go if you continued to try to reason with him. You were afraid that he’d scream at you to go back where you came from; what you were even more afraid of was that you knew you’d do that.

Daryl leaned down until he was inches away from your face. He grabbed your shoulders and squeezed them tightly, forcing you to look at him. There was a fire burning bright in his eyes, and you didn’t know if Daryl wanted to kill or just beat you senseless. You knew he wouldn’t do anything like that, not to you. No matter how much he hated you, your mother raised him right.

“I ain’t gonna listen to yer bullshit story. Nothin’ is gonna make me forgive ya for leavin’. Not even pity.” You gulped, feeling the lump in your throat constricting. He shook you a little, probably trying to scare you half to death, which he succeeded in doing.

“I just want to fix this.”

 It angered Daryl even more, so he shoved you further onto the forest floor, ignoring Merle’s shout. You’ve never felt so pathetic in your life like in that moment. You’ve never been the one to plead for forgiveness.

“What did I fuckin’ say?!” He screamed in your face again.

It was impossible to keep your tears under control anymore. You didn’t know what to do anymore. Your brother hated your guts, and you doubted anything could change that. 

Your lower lip trembled, your vision blurring, and the tears stinging at your eyelids, and all you could manage was a muffled: “I understand.”

He released you, letting you collapse on the grass as he stood up. Without another word, he disappeared into the forest. 

“Shit, I almost forgot this guy’s temper.” Merle’s voice suggested he was pretty amused by the whole situation. He was never the one to take anything seriously for more than a few minutes. 

“Don’t think he’ll ever lose that. None of us will,” you mumbled out. You were still reeling from the events that unfolded minutes ago. You closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths, forcing yourself to stop crying so you could gather your thoughts.

“So what now?” Your brother asked. It was a good question that you, unfortunately, didn’t know the answer to.

You shrugged your shoulders and opened your eyes. “I... I guess I need to figure this shit out myself. Don’t know what I should do yet.”

“Ain’t gonna be an easy task makin’ ’im forgive ya.”

“Well...” You frowned, rubbing your forehead in thought. “If he’s planning to hate me forever, then maybe I should consider going back out there on my own.”

That brought a frown to Merle’s face as well. “Yer bein’ serious right now?”

You nodded slowly as Merle gaped at you, but both of you knew that he wouldn’t let you leave. The truth was, you couldn’t bear the thought of being alone after finding them, but what choice did you really have? It seemed like you were stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Before Merle could say anything, his eyes snapped toward the sound of twigs breaking and leaves rustling in the distance. You exchanged looks, but neither one of you made any movements. You held your breath, craning your neck to see if anything was about to jump out of the bushes.

Seconds passed, seconds that felt like hours to both of you. The forest was silent except for the occasional bird chirping and the wind blowing through the trees. Neither of you dared to make a single movement, just listening to the sounds around you.

Suddenly, a loud thud came from the direction of the previous noise. You jumped up from your place on the ground, ready to fight whatever was coming your way.

But nothing came.

You waited for a few more moments, but still, nothing happened.

“What the fuck,” Merle muttered, throwing his hands in the air in anger. 

He could swear something was hiding in those bushes, but he sure as shit wasn’t going to poke the bear. If he wasn’t going to do something about it, then you would. You bit your lip, hesitating for a couple of seconds before standing up. You walked forward cautiously, glancing at Merle every now and then.

You weren’t prepared this time when you caught a glimpse of something moving in different shrubs behind your brother. 

In a split second, you lunged toward Merle, pushing him aside. A rotten hand painfully pulled on your arm, making you drop forward on the grass. You scrambled to your knees, loudly gasping and desperately trying to kick the undead away from you. 

His skin was pale, his hair messy like a rat’s nest and black as pitch. But his cold dead eyes that gave you goosebumps were the ones that told you he had been dead for a while. 

The straggler growled loudly, getting more aggressive with every second. It snapped its jaw closer to your face making you turn your head to the side to keep more distance from it. You kicked your leg, hitting it straight in the gut, moving it a few inches away with the force.

There was a sound of breaking twigs, and suddenly Merle appeared beside you. In his hands was a large branch that was almost bigger than him. He swung it at the creature, sending it flying backward, far away from you.

Merle hit the straggler again right on the head, this time with full force. The impact caused its’ skull to crack, and soon enough, blood spilled from its eyes and nostrils. The creature dropped dead.

“Shit, tha’ was somethin’.” Merle dropped the stick and nodded his head in approval of himself. “Still got it!”

“Be your own biggest fan, huh?” you mumbled to yourself, looking at your brother in disbelief. You got up from the ground on wobbly legs. “You think more of them are gonna show up?”

“How the hell would I know? Haven’t seen ’em so close to our camp before.” Merle scratched his head in thought, looking at the corpse, while you walked up to it and crouched down to check its pockets. “Plunderin’ corpses is yer niche now?”

You didn’t respond, taking a pack of cigarettes from the dead man’s jacket. You checked twice, but there was nothing else in his clothes. No weapon, no ammunition. That was a shame. You could’ve used some more bullets. It was something that you could never have enough of.

“Ya think I should keep the stick?”

Days went by quicker than you expected, but nothing out of the ordinary happened. Daryl still avoided you like the plague, Merle started to get on your nerves, and the undead seemed to mostly dodge your little settlement. Although you had to kill a few stragglers that wandered into the campsite, neither Daryl nor Merle thought they posed a real threat.

You were sharpening your knife in peace, whistling a quiet melody to soothe your restlessness. You woke up with a weird feeling that didn’t let you sit on your ass for longer than five minutes. It pricked your nerve endings, making pure annoyance shoot through your whole body.

Why wasn’t anything happening when your entire being screamed that danger was near? You couldn’t understand that and decided it was most likely because you weren’t used to peace. You lived your whole life on the edge of your seat, always in a state of run or fight. 

“Wha’s wrong with ya?” When you stood up from your place to scout out the surrounding bushes again, Merle sighed. “Gnawers ain’t gonna jus’ appear from nowhe’, Baby. They don’ jump off planes with parachutes to hunt us down.”

“You say so?” You rolled your eyes at his comment, kicking a stray rock away from your pathway. You didn’t know what you expected to find there, but you were unsuccessful. “Nothing,” you mumbled out with resignation, walking back to the log and falling back down on it. 

“Wha’ were ya hopin’ to find, huh?” 

“I’m just restless. Do you think staying in one place for so long is a good idea?” Your fingers played with a loose strand on the hem of your shirt while you waited for Merle to give you some half-assed reassurance that’d do nothing to soothe your nerves.

“Don’ know. But we’re still alive, tha’ counts,” he mumbled barely coherently, never taking out the cigarette from between his lips while his hands were busy disemboweling a squirrel. It was a sight that wasn’t new to you but amused you just the same as years ago.

A comfortable silence has fallen between you for a few minutes. You looked around, your eyes already searching for Daryl before you could even think it through. He walked around the nearby trees, picking up thick branches for the nightly bonfire. He looked peaceful for the first time since you’ve reconnected. It was all it took for the guilt to swallow your heart again. 

“Darylina gonna forgive ya real soon. Don’ even worry ’bout it,” Merle started the conversation once more. “Ya ain’t gonna tell yer older brother wha’ the Atlanta fuss was all ’bout?” He looked up from that damn bloody squirrel, piercing through you with his Dixon blue eyes. Your mother’s were of the same exact shade. It was one of the few things you still remembered about her.

The subject you tiptoed around for the last week finally crawled up to the surface. No matter how much you tried to avoid it, it had to be discussed at some point. That point inescapably came, and even if you weren’t ready to give him an explanation, you forced yourself to tell the story. He deserved to hear it just as much as Daryl.

“If you really want to hear about it…” you began, taking a deep breath in to stabilize your shaky voice. “I was working as a taxi driver. A simple job that paid the bills. I met some shady people there, Merle. And they were a lot fucking worse than those in our neighborhood. That kind that gave out opportunities to gain lots of money and didn’t take no for an answer.”

“Gang shit?” he asked, his entire attention focused on your story. He even forgot about the squirrel and his cigarette, listening carefully to your words. Never before has he acted like that. It has made you feel a lot calmer.

You noticed Daryl in the corner of your eye, glancing time after time in your direction. He was listening in on the conversation, trying to be discreet. You had to admit, he sucked at being discreet. But you continued with your story; it wasn’t about making him forgive and understand you anymore. It was about getting it all off your chest. 

“I don’t even know, to be honest. They didn’t look like a gang, they looked like rich businessmen that needed someone else to do their dirty work. I couldn’t say no to them, they didn’t let me. They put me in a car, told me to wear some satanic devil mask and drive whenever and wherever they asked. And I did exactly what they told me to. Not because I wanted that money but because I was afraid of what they’d do to me if I refused.” 

You could feel tears pricking your eyes at the memories of living in the unknown, not knowing why you were going somewhere and who or what you’d be driving around. Guns? A dead body? Murderers? You always tried to keep to yourself when fulfilling your “duties,” living in a permanent state of fear of what’d happen to you. But there was no getting out of it. Once you were inside the circle, even prison wouldn’t help you. They’d off you right after getting caught just to ensure you wouldn’t blabber on them. 

“Tha’s wha’ they do.” Merle nodded his head in understanding. Whether he knew that from personal experience or from movies he watched, you weren’t sure, but he had an idea of what you were talking about and where the conversation was heading. 

“One day, they told me to get in the car, gave me some weird tiny clicker and put the navigation on.” You stopped for a second to wipe off the tears running down your cheeks. Taking another shaky breath in, you smiled faintly and awkwardly at Merle. “Once I was there they called me on my phone, told me to press the button. I… I thought it was supposed to open the gate. Instead, two cars in front of me blew the fuck up.”

“Those motherfuckers… I swear tha’ if they’re not dead already, I’m gonna make ’em regret survivin’ for so long. Gonna cut their dicks off an’ stuff ’em down their throats,” your brother spat out those words with clenched teeth. His leg continuously bounced up and down in annoyance. 

“No survivors. The newspaper said there was a child in one of those cars,” you continued, sniffling. You felt numb and guilty, and it was exactly what you deserved. You deserved to feel so much worse for what you’ve done. 

Merle didn’t comment on that. He got up from his spot and walked over to you, pulling you into his arms while his hand caressed your hair soothingly. Your brother was never good at words, but his actions made the emotional barrier in you break into pieces; you couldn’t hold it together anymore. Sobs wrecked through your body while your hands grabbed Merle’s vest tightly, holding onto it for dear life. His clothes muffled your cries while you buried your face in his chest.

You needed that. 

The sky has turned dark before you could even notice. Only when the stars started shining over your head did you become more aware of your surroundings. It wasn't really smart to walk around in the middle of the apocalypse with your head in the clouds, but you made an exception for yourself just this one time. You promised yourself it wasn't going to happen again. You needed to be focused on your surroundings more than ever. 

You didn't do anything productive that day, sulking around and thinking through your every goddamn life decision. Merle and Daryl, let you be, now hustling around to set up the bonfire and cook some squirrel meat over it. 

You looked over at them when your stomach grumbled loudly, and with a sigh, you decided it wouldn't be such a bad idea to join them. 

"Ya feelin' better?" your older brother asked, passing you the squirrel meat on a sharpened stick.

Daryl raised his head at Merle's words, his eyes looking over to you to see for himself if you were alright. As much as he has convinced himself that he hated your guts, deep down, Daryl still cared, and he couldn't fight off the habit of checking up on you with his gaze once in a while. 

"Not sure. But I'll be alright," you assured, twirling the stick between your hands mindlessly. "I have to be."

You caught Daryl's stare from across the bonfire, and you sent him a sad half-smile, making him retract his eyes back to his task.

You didn't know whether it was because of your talk with Merle or something else, but the atmosphere around the three of you had changed. You couldn't feel the tension and the hatred anymore. It gave you hope that someday it'll all be better.

“Carl, hurry up already!” you called from downstairs, finishing packing a little lunch box filled with fruits and sandwiches for the both of you to enjoy on your picnic.

“You’re as patient as hungry Abraham,” Carl said, chuckling while he walked down the stairs.

He stopped just by the kitchen doorway, shirtless, and you looked up at him giggling. Carl’s eyes shined with playfulness.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” you accused, pulling your eyes away from him to put the lunch box into your bag.

“Maybe, I am. But can you blame me? It’s so freakin’ hot outside. Who would want to go out in this weather?“ Carl finally put on a t-shirt, knowing this time he won’t be able to persuade you this way.

“It’s just sun, Carl. You won’t melt.” You shook your head in disbelief at his antics. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little bit of heat,” you teased, raising an eyebrow at him.

“If I was afraid of it, why would I spend any time in your presence when you’re so hot?” He sent a cheeky wink your way, smiling with smugness when you stared at him dumbfounded.

Your cheeks warmed up at his words before you caught on to his play. “You’re still trying to change our date plans!” you gasped, pointing an accusatory finger his way. “No, it’s not happening.”

“Oh, come on!” Carl whined, spreading his arms widely in defeat. “I will make it up to you, I swear,” he tried again. “We can always go tomorrow. Maybe it won’t be so unbearable then.”

You thought it over for a few minutes before finally giving up with a resigned sigh. Your boyfriend looked at you expectantly, and when you nodded your head, agreeing to his proposal, he cheered loudly. He ran up to you, encircling your waist with his arms and kissing your cheek sweetly.

“I’m gonna make you a cold fruit smoothie,” he promised, kissing your face all over, making you giggle.