#twdd

No one else seemed to notice, not their friends or teachers, not Sam, not even Danny’s family. Though every once in a while, Jazz would look at it in a way that made Tucker hopeful- in a way that made him long for her to say something. Please, he’d think, straining as if to project his thoughts directly into hers, Please notice it too. But every time, without fail, whatever it was that passed over her face, left as quickly as it came. Like a bad dream that faded after you woke up, the acknowledgement that there was something else there- something else wrong- it was all gone from her face in an instant.

And Tucker was left feeling just as crazy as ever.

They walked home together, every day, and sometimes, they’d take a detour through the woods. The trees made Tucker’s skin itch with the reminder of what was, and he watched it with an uneasy element of energy coursing through his veins.

It breathed in the cold winter air, and when it breathed out, the air didn’t billow. No one ever noticed this either, but Tucker did, Tucker always did. Just like he noticed a million other little things. It wore no jacket, having taken it off the moment they were out of sight of Sam’s house. Its skin was exposed to the frosty air, and Tucker knew, as he did every time, that when he touched its arm, it would be bitter cold- far, far colder than anyone should be.

“You’re doing it again,” Tucker said, watching with an expression that did a lot to hide his discontent. Or at least, a lot aside from the way his mouth turned down just enough at the corners to be a tell- a tell no one ever seemed to comment on.

“Hmm?” It said, its stolen blue eyes cutting through Tucker like shards of ice. It seemed so innocent. It seemed so happy. It did what it was supposed to when it was supposed to, every time, without fail. And yet, Tucker could never shake the feeling that something was wrong- that what he was looking at was further from human than anything Tucker had ever seen before.

It turned, cocking its head to the side in an overly animated, sarcastic sort of way that reminded Tucker of Danny.

“What’s wrong, Tuck?” It said, jokingly, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

He had.

Tucker knew he had, because Danny Fenton was dead. He had been for the better part of a year, ever since he went missing in the woods last December. No one had been able to find him, and the weather had left everyone to assume the worst, but he and Sam had never stopped. They looked even when everyone told them it was too dangerous. They looked when it got so cold their hands almost went purple- and then they kept looking.

Even when Sam got sick and couldn’t get out of bed, Tucker kept looking.

And that was when he found it: Danny’s corpse at the base of a gully, his blood frozen to his hair, frost cresting over his cheeks, his eyes- cold and vacant- stared upright to the cold expanse of darkening sky.

Tucker remembered staring at it- at his friend- for far too long, he remembered reaching out and touching the stiff, frozen face of his dead friend, holding it in his hands as he knelt over the body and stared down.

And then, Tucker remembered walking through the door to his home- weary, empty, without any memory of how he’d gotten there, and unable to speak even a simple sentence. He was unable to even utter the words: My friend is dead.

Two days later, they found it. They all breathed a sigh of relief, they cried, they whooped with joy- all of them celebrating the miraculous return of one, miraculously unharmed Danny Fenton. Or at least… all of them except for Tucker.

Danny had died, and Tucker was the only one who knew, so all he had been able to do was stare- stare at the living corpse of his best friend.

And he continued to stare. He stared as it acted like Danny, as it smiled at Tucker, as it laughed with Sam, and through it all, all he could think, was that he was right. He had to be. He had to be. He’d seen Danny’s body, he knew he had.

So when Tucker opened his mouth, and told it the truth, he wasn’t surprised, not really. Not in the ways you might expect.

“Humans get cold,” Tucker said, his voice hollow, “You always seem to forget that bit, you know.”

Whatever had possessed him to say the words, whatever had taken hold of Tucker and allowed the accusation to slip out, he regretted not fighting it the moment the face of the creature in front of him slipped.

The mischievous smile, the childish glee- in seconds it all evaporated. And left behind was a shell that only resembled the boy Tucker had called a friend.

“What?” It asked, and its voice felt wrong in a way Tucker couldn’t pin down. It spoke in an uneasy cadence: “I’m human. You know that, don’t you, Tucker?”

Tucker couldn’t speak. He tried, but when his lips parted, nothing came out. Something felt like it was clawing its way up his esophagus. Sweat broke out on his neck. The expression on its face burrowed into his chest and expanded.

It took a step towards him and it wasn’t until it opened its mouth that Tucker realized he’d incorrectly clocked the movement as a threat, when in reality it was an act of desperation.

“I said, don’t you, Tucker?” It asked, its eyes feeling far too dead and far too flat for the tone of voice it had. It moved like an animal going to nip at a plate of food left on the ground, like it would back away and consume and then leave forever as quickly as it had come.

Tucker tried to speak, he really did, but when he couldn’t force out another word, it grew restless. It closed the gap between them, lifting its ice cold hand to Tucker’s face. It looked so much like Danny, blue eyes and messy black hair that perfectly accentuated his face, the scar on the very tip of its nose. It all screamed Danny, all of it, except for the eyes.

Its eyes were the wrong color, Tucker realized.

His hearing grew into static at its touch, until he could hear it and it alone. Its voice bled out in a way that would have reminded Tucker this was not Danny anyway- all thick sludge and caustic static that made the flesh under Tucker’s skin squirm with vigorous glee.

“I thought I was doing so well,” it breathed, its cool breath kissing Tucker’s mouth in a way Danny never would, “I was working so hard to be perfect for you.”

Its eyes were the wrong color, Tucker thought again, though he couldn’t place why, not immediately, not until the irises wobbled and grew, expanding into a blob of green and swirling black, pooling out at the corners like water and smoke.

Tucker came to his senses, his head jerking back and away from its touch. But it just reached out again, taking Tucker’s face in both hands as it spoke.

“Give me another chance,” it said, the color of its eyes bleeding from the corner of its mouth as if it was the fog that should have come from its breath, “I don't want to kill you. So please, I can be perfect. I know I can.”

In an explosion of movement, the green of its eyes rushed outward, consuming the air around it with alarming speed. It closed around Tucker, smothering him as if its goal was to waterboard him with whatever was inside it.

But only if you give me another chance.

Tucker gasped at its touch, the cold, slimy feeling of the inner eye making him want to curl in on himself like a pill bug trying to escape danger. But no matter how hard he pulled away, there was no escaping the swirling cloud of green and black. He opened his mouth as if to scream, but the sound was smothered by the texture of its eyes against his teeth.

Tucker stumbled back, falling, and whatever it was came with him. He closed his eyes to shield against the enormity of the green and black swirling around him- and then he tried to scramble and think of anything he could do to stop this, of anything he could do to bring his friend back.

Tucker found himself reaching, feeling for anything that felt real and solid and there. His fingers found fabric, and he wrapped his arms around the body of his friend, gripping at the T-shirt Danny used to wear so often. His fingers twisted in the shirt and he shuddered in a sudden mixture of grief and terror, tears spilling from the corners of his eyes.

Danny had always aimed for perfection, even if people didn’t always think so. He struggled to make his grades perfect, he struggled to find the perfect girl, he struggled to wear the perfect outfit. But he had always tried, that was something that had never changed, right up until the end.

Tucker pressed his face into that shirt, hoping to find an air pocket- to gain some sort of respite from the thing that was spilling out from whatever was wearing Danny’s skin. And when he finally found it, he gasped, sucking in whatever air he could. His voice came out in a rickety shake.

“I don’t want you to be perfect,” he all but stammered, part of him forgetting who he was talking to at all, “I never did.”

Something about the inside of its eyes around Tucker became less oppressive, slowing down in its encroaching assault of textures and sounds against every inch of Tucker’s being. He jumped on the opportunity, the only one he had to save himself. To save himself and… maybe even…

“So just,” Tucker gasped, “Just try again. We’ll start over. Try again- and be you.”

Danny could never be himself again. He wouldn’t laugh, or cry, or smile, he would never dance or run or climb ever again. He would never look at Tucker with that same expression ever again- the one that made his insides flip and his throat feel stuck, the one that felt like there was a secret only they knew.

And, Tucker realized, terribly, horribly, selfishly, that he would rather have some small piece of Danny stay beside him, rather than choose to let him go.

Even if that small piece was no less real than a picture on a piece of paper.

The green and black cloud of roiling otherworldly terror retreated, slipping back into its eyes and nose and mouth, and it stared at Tucker, now with those uncanny blue eyes. Tucker stared back, and he could no more let go of its shirt than a drowning man could an unsuspecting swimmer.

“Okay,” it breathed.

Click–clack..click–clack..click– 

“Ow! Damn– ...Sorry.” You adjust the rearview mirror to glance at the 17 year old in the backseat– who should be asleep– instead messing with that stupid butterfly knife.

“What happened? I thought you were sleeping.” You mentioned, slightly annoying at the fact she’s still trying to perfect her knife tricks, over getting some rest. Carol looks back at the hazel-eyed girl, checking if the wound is bad enough to pull-over. “You’ll be okay Rem, it’s just a small knick. Be more careful–Please. We wanna bring you back home in one piece.” 

“Right..I’ll be more careful.” Remy agreed, her voice small and soft, as if she’s a little..embarrassed. “Uhm..Mom, could we stop for a minute?” she asks with a slight country accent–an accent she got from being raised by a certain redneck archer. “I kinda have to pee..” 

“Sure Angel Face, it can’t hurt us to take a short break.” You smile at her through the rearview and turn to pull onto a dirt patch on the side of the road.

Remy walks a little out into the brush–knife in its sheath–hidden a little under her purple zebra striped dress. You and Carol are leaned up against your car, a white, 2010 Toyota Matrix. “Have you noticed anything off about Remy recently?” You question, turning to face Carol. “It’s like she’s…I don’t know–Distracted?” Carol responds immediately, already having an idea of what the problem was.

“Well..We’ve been looking for Daryl non-stop and we’ve had no luck so far. Not so much as even a clue. She’s worried, I don’t blame her..I am too.”

Remy stands, fixing her dark brown-striped leggings. It’s quiet, the only sounds are the leaves rustling, a squirrel scurrying home with dinner. It’s almost peaceful–if you forget the dead are roaming around. Unfortunately, the smell is too pungent to miss, their throaty growl, the agonizingly slow footsteps or the sound of their decaying body separating as they drag themselves against the ground. Remy knows the feeling, knows the sound, the smell–it’s like being watched..being hunted. 

It isn’t hard finding the lone walker, Remy gets closer to “put it out of its misery” as she says. She knows that the dead aren’t people anymore but she still prefers to give them the respect they deserve– for them to finally rest in peace…sometimes pieces.

Carol notices her first, itching to get back on the road and continue their search for their beloved hunter. You all pile back into the car, preparing for the long journey ahead. You look back at Remington–your daughter–she’s grown so much, so fast.

“You okay Rem? No bites?”

“Yeah, No bites.”

Turrrr..turrrr..turrrrrr

“You hear that?’

“Yeah..There!” 

Carol frantically points to where the familiar noise is coming from– a motorcycle– specifically Daryl’s motorcycle but…No Daryl. 

“Mom, is that–” 

“Yes it is, buckle up please.” Of course, Remy is already buckled.. She doesn’t feel safe riding in a vehicle without a seatbelt– especially with her mother driving. You whip the car around, now following behind the bike– matching its speed, determined to find out where this random man got Daryl’s bike from.

Carol rolls the window down, leaning out of it to aim her handgun at him. Only wanting to do enough damage to where he stops– and is still able to be questioned after the crash.

BANG! SCREEEEEK! 

Fortunately, the man is almost perfectly intact..besides the bullet wound in his shoulder. Also– lucky for him– You’re able to bring the car to a halt just before running him over. Carol gets out of the car, slowly, the stranger obviously isn’t going anywhere. She walks to the trunk, and pulls out her Weatherby PA-08, already loaded.

Approaching the injured man, aiming her shotgun–

“Where’d you get the bike?” Her voice is flat, but confident.

“W-Wait! Don’t shoot..please..” The man’s voice was shaky and unclear, almost on the verge of tears as he held his wounded shoulder.

“Where did you get the bike?”

You’re still in the car, not bothering to get out, knowing Carol can handle this herself. That crash was loud enough to draw a good amount of walkers– you hope to get out of here before then. Remy’s in the backseat twirling the ends of her short braids, a nervous tic she’s had since she grew hair.

Carol checks the man for any weapons, she finds a small hunting knife and a handgun similar to her own. No bullets. You decide to get out of the car now, wondering what’s taking so damn long.

“He know anything?”

“Yeah a little..Let’s tie him up. Leave him in one of those trunks over there.”

Walking back towards the car, Carol picks up Daryl’s bike, turning it in the direction you all were heading in the first place and walks it to the driver window.

“Follow me, there’s a junkyard a couple miles from here. That’s where he said he got the bike.”

“Alright, right behind you.” Remy climbs in the front seat, her mood lightened, knowing that we are one more step closer to finding the man who raised her.

You stop the car a few miles from– what you assume– is the place you need to be. Carol pulls up beside you as you roll your window down.

“I’m gonna ride up on that hill right there– Take a look at the place. Stay here until I come back.”

Around 5 minutes go by, when you see Carol riding the old death machine back towards you. “So?”

“I only saw a few people, but there might be more inside. Let’s walk straight in there– show that we’re friendly.”

“Sounds like a plan.” You start the car up, putting on your best poker face. “I’ll let you do the talking, people seem to trust you more.” You say, teasing Carol at the fact she’s so good at manipulating people..a little more than she should be. She gets the job done so maybe you shouldn’t complain too much.

“Ha-Ha Fine. I’ll do all the work, again.”

“Oh–Whatever” 

You both laugh, and start heading towards the Camp. Carol gets off the bike, while you and Remy get out of the car, staying a few steps behind Carol and ready to move if need be. Her hands are up, and her steps are slow– an “I’m Friendly, Don’t Shoot” gesture. Clearing her throat she starts–

“Ahem…Hello..” The 3 men startle, spinning around and stopping what they’re doing to find out where the new voice is coming from. You notice a familiar crossbow in the hands of an unfamiliar man. He sets the bow down on one of the cars hood and picks up a new tire– walking away from the weapon. It felt like seconds..Carol attacking them after the man walked away. Before you knew it Carol had Daryl’s crossbow back, one of his arrows in someone's foot, and new information.

You decided to leave your old car back there, running low on gas and starting to overheat. You’d gotten lucky to make it that far. Carol decided to take the Mercedes Benz SLS one of the guys had just finished working on, the same guy who had Daryl’s bow.

“Sucks, we had to leave his bike back there…” Remy murmured, her voice back to being soft and small, her lower lip slightly jutted out. She’s always had a problem with letting thing’s go– worthless or not, everything means something to her. 

The Boatyard was a waste of time. A couple beached, useless, boats aren’t going to help you in your search for Daryl, especially in getting to Europe somehow. You can tell Carol is getting more and more frustrated by the minute. Everytime you think you’re finally getting somewhere– it’s another dead end.

Getting back on the road with no destination– again– had tensions rising.

Carol was quiet, Remy was jotting down everything we had learned in her old tattered notebook. She’d been writing more, sometimes drawing, You’ve gotten a few peeks here and there when she falls asleep re-reading everything. 

“-ey..Helloo? Earth to Y/N.” 

“Yeah? Sorry..lost in thought… Did you need something?” You noticed the pair of square sunglasses Carol found in the car, they look good on her.

“Just wanted to see if they had anything good in that glove box, the silence is making me itchy” Opening the glove box, you find a couple audio cassettes inside, different rock bands, pop, etc. You grabbed a random tape and handed it to Carol, still looking at all the other ones. Some lady with a high pitched voice starts singing. Obviously Carol is not into it and throws it out the window.

Another tape. An up-beat instrumental, again not a fan.

A third tape. You should’ve been carefully reading the names on the cassettes before giving them to her, but honestly, finding the right song wasn’t important right now. It’s a meditation audio, she hates it. Almost breaks the radio trying to get it out. With no luck, she decides to try and follow the instructions coming from the tape..taking a deep breath in..and then–screaming in frustration.

Kinda awkward but you understand, Remy decides to lay down in the back seat, trusting Carol enough to take her seatbelt off for the first time while the vehicle is still in motion. Carol hears a strange whirring noise, like a plane or a helicopter. She looks through the windshield up at the sky, searching for the object making that noise, not paying attention to the road. You look up right before it happens.

“Carol, Watch out!”  SCREEEEEK!

She swerves off the road, after hitting the walker in your way– crashing into a tall Drive-IN sign.

“AHH! What the hell?!” Remy yelps in confusion, now squished in the floor behind the front seats. “Holy shit..Remy?! Are you okay?” You whip around to check your kid for any injuries– she’s fine– might be a bit sore later but thankfully nothing serious. 

“Fuck..I’m sorry. Are you two okay?” 

“Yeah, we’re good, are you?..”

“Carol, you’re bleeding.” You reach your hand up towards her forehead, there’s a 3-inch gash going from her hairline to right above her right eyebrow. It’s bleeding but not enough to be anything critical; you hope.

“I’ll be fine..Might have a major headache but I’m sure it’s nothing serious..” She takes another look in the sky searching for the plane again.

“What the hell happened? Why weren’t you watching the road?” You’re a little upset at the fact she put your kid in serious danger.

“I- I saw a plane or.. something above us. If we find it..” Carol looks at you as if she doesn’t need to explain anymore. She doesn’t, it’s like you two are connected telepathically, you get it. Remy’s up and in her seat looking at you two, a lost expression on her face.

“Y’know, It would be nice if you guys would finish your sentences once in a while, then maybe I’d be up to speed.” Carol gets out of the car to assess the damage done, while you turn to explain what you two were thinking. 

“I think the radiator is fucked. We’re gonna be on foot from here.” You and Remy get out of the car, gathering all of your belongings.

“The plane went that way.” Carol points where she last saw the plane heading.

“Okay..Rem, you got your stuff?”

“Yeah..I’m ready.” She confirms after putting her bag strap over her head.

That noise is back..which means the plane is close. All three of you look up in hopes of seeing it. “There..that’s the direction we need to go.” Carol points at the plane again before it disappears behind the tall trees.

“Alright, we should hurry before it gets too dark. I don’t wanna be out here on unfamiliar grounds with the dead walking.”

You couldn’t make it before dark but it was better than nothing. After a few hours of walking, you three come across a tall metal fence– not knowing if it was electric you ask Remy to keep back a little. Carol moves forward to scope the place out, once she knows it’s relatively safe she gives you two the signal to follow her.

There’s a large trap on the right side of the metal gate, the gate looks stable..and powered, a good thing that whoever lives here has power, a bad thing at the thought of what they had to do to keep this place secure. Carol motions for you to get under the large trap, stepping over the previous attempting the same. Remy’s the smallest out of all of you; no one would expect her to be able to lift something that heavy. 

“Okay, Rem get over here and pretend to get us out. Me and your Mom are gonna try and get this guy's attention.”

“Just follow what he says and we’ll be okay.” You reach your hand out through the gaps of the bars to caress her cheek.

“Yeah.. I got it.” She slightly smiles at you, reassuring you she’ll be fine.

“You ready?” 

“Always.” You put your arm back into the bars and position it to look lodged under the rusted metal prongs, Carol does the same.

“HELP!..SOMEBODY HELP!” You two shout loud enough to attract the man.

He comes up from behind the cliff, pointing a light–and gun– at you three. “Quiet! You’re gonna draw them..”  Carol explains what happened to our car, striking a deal with the man, spewing a bunch of bullshit like “Relying on the kindness of strangers”. 

“Is it just you three?” Carol nods. “You swear?” 

“Please..We won’t cause you any problems, I promise.” Remy being here made it a little easier for his guard to be let down; Him realizing she’s just a teenager.

“I’ll get you all fixed up..then you leave.” He opens the gate with some kind of remote. “One false move and I’ll shoot you.”

You and Remy are standing in the open barn waiting for Carol to finish cleaning up. Ash, the man who is helping you three, is standing right outside, gun in hand– waiting to shoot if need be. The power goes out unexpectedly, Carol stops what she’s doing and slowly looks over to Ash. 

“What’s that?” He looks a little impatient and sighs. “Problems with my generator..happens from time to time.” 

He walks away to go and fix the problem, trusting you three a tiny bit more, enough to leave you unguarded. Carol follows him out, still dabbing her forehead with the damp towel. Ash flips some switch on the generator and the power comes back on– a temporary fix.

“Have you ever hit a walker with your car?” Carol questions, trying to get him to open up a little. “No..” He gives a short response, obviously not wanting to engage in small talk with a stranger he just met, creeping around his walls.

“Hm.. You're lucky, I think I smashed the radiator”  He shoulders his gun, not thinking of you all to be too big of a threat.

 “You can spend the night here if you want..”

“Really?” Remy gives him a hopeful smile, excited to be sleeping within walls again. 

“Yeah. C'mon you three can stay out here in the barn” He leads You, Carol, and Remy out to a quaint, small barn, a little ways from what you assume is his house. Remy walks in first checking the place out, she thinks it's kinda ugly, considering her face is slightly scrunched. You go to walk in after her but realize Carol isn’t following you two. It’s like she’s frozen in time, somewhat shaking, as she starts to tear up.

Ash walks towards her slowly, gently grabbing her arm before you can, snapping her out of whatever trance she was in.

“Hey..You okay?” She looks at you with a dazed expression, blinking away her tears and pulling herself together. “Fine...C’mon let’s get inside.” Ash shuts the barn door behind him, turning the main lights on. You see Remy standing in front of– what you assume– is the plane you all saw earlier. Carol walks up behind her, rubbing her shoulder.

“Alright, you can sleep in there” Ash states, turning on the lights of your room for the night.

“You fly that thing?” He looks at the plane, longingly, as if he misses it.

“The noise attracts the dead but it's worth it, just to get up above everything for a while everyday” Remy looks at him with a genuine smile on her face. “It’s pretty cool, I’ve always wanted to fly in a plane.” He gently smiles back at her.

“Alright.. There you go”. He gestures towards the room, clearly wanting to get this awkward moment over with. You, Carol, and Remy make your way into the small room, getting as comfortable as you can. There's a few heavy blankets in the room as well so, at least you’ll be warm for the night.

“Thank you..for everything.” You turn to give him a lighthearted smile, keeping up this facade. Ash shuts and locks the door behind him, finally you and Carol have a moment to come up with another plan. You need to get him on your side somehow, he knows how to operate a plane, he's useful.

Remy is already dead-asleep, she’s always been a heavy sleeper. Something that will get you killed if you’re not careful but she knows she’s safe, especially with you and Carol.

“So..What are you thinking?” You and Carol sit down on the floor next to Remy, speaking in your normal tones, knowing she wouldn’t wake up if a tornado came through.

“I’m not entirely sure..We need to find out more about him. Somehow we need to stay longer, do some digging.”

“Alright..we can think about it more tomorrow, I don’t know about you but those blankets look really good right now.” Carol smirks at you, but not without looking at the make-shift bed herself. It does look very comfy.

“Goodnight Y/N.” She moves to get under the blankets, and get in her signature sleep postion, you do the same.

“Night Carol..” 

You can’t sleep, your mind is racing at the thought that Ash can help you find Daryl, and what you could do to get him on board with flying to Europe. You can’t stop thinking about all the negatives and everything that could go wrong while doing this, the plane won’t make it without a couple stops along the way–who knows what you’ll run into during them–, you could hit a bad storm and die in that death trap, you’d be putting your daughter at even more risk; flying into the unknown.

Is it worth it?.. Of course it is, it’s Daryl. You’ve made it this far you can’t give up now. You could never give up on Daryl, he’s done too much for you..for Remy. He’s family, you’d do anything for family–that’s what you thought when he first started going back outside the walls, looking for Rick after 10 years. Honestly It’d be a miracle if Rick was still alive but you didn’t have the heart to tell him that. Why would he not come back if he was still living, he knows where Alexandria is..Hilltop...

It feels like a long shot but if that’s what Daryl had to do to sleep at night, who were you to tell him no? You two made a deal, He would search for a little, but no more than a couple weeks at a time. That way he could still have a little peace in his life knowing that he’s trying but also spending time with his family, watching his kids grow.

The first fight you and Daryl had about the entire situation was stupid, the only reason it happened was because you were frustrated that you barely saw him anymore, that Remy barely saw him anymore. Daryl was frustrated because he felt like you didn’t want him looking anymore, that he should just give up, pretend like Rick never existed and move on with his life.

 You made up barely an hour later, both realizing you shouldn’t be arguing at a time like this. Tensions were high and it was a spur-of-the-moment argument. Your brain is getting foggy now, thinking of memories with Daryl made your mind calm. You’re falling asleep, now less anxious than you were when you first laid down, eager to wake up tomorrow and continue your search.

Hope you enjoyed! Like I said I spent alot of time on this so super excited!! Chapter 2 coming soon!! 💚💚

(also if you would like to see Remy’s design I had in mind dm me!!!)

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