𝙷𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚂𝚞𝚗 ☼ 𝙳𝚊𝚛𝚢𝚕 𝙳𝚒𝚡𝚘𝚗

ᴠɪɪɪ. ᴢᴏᴍʙɪᴇ

The sun was starting to set as you returned to the Greene farm. It hung low in the sky and cast an amber haze, basking everything in a golden hue so that the fields looked like wheat and the trees like autumn.

The low thrum of the bike vibrated through your body, from your toes to your fingertips, and you felt at peace - more so than you had in a while. It was perhaps ironic, you thought, for the world to look so idyllic after you had nearly died not even an hour before. It was almost like a reminder that life goes on, even if yours didn't.

You were acutely aware of the warm breeze hitting your cheek, of the dull throb of pain in your ankle, and of the material between your fingers. You hadn't let go the entire ride - not even to unclench your hands for a second to wipe away clamminess onto your jeans. You hadn't lifted your head either, after you'd rested it on the leather vest in front of you to cry a while ago. You were done now. Yet, you still lay one cheek there, looking out to the side at the oak trees that drifted by and the clouds that floated aimlessly.

The bike jolted a little as you merged onto the familiar dirt track leading to the farmhouse. It was like you could feel every pebble beneath the tyres and hear the conversations of your campmates before you could even make them out clearly. Daryl rode past the group, gathered together by the main area, and parked the bike slightly in front of them. He turned the key in the ignition, killing the engine, and you waited a second before finally feeling ready to let go.

You took a deep breath in through your nose, letting it slowly out of your mouth as Daryl swung his leg over the bike and got off. He gave you a look as you stayed seated there, wordlessly shucking off the satchel and crossbow to give to him when he reached his hand out for them.

"Where the hell have you two been?" There it was. You tried not to sigh as your perfect image of peace shattered before your eyes.

Shane stalked over to you both, the rest of the group trailing behind to try and calm him. You stayed seated, looking over at him with a blank expression. You realised how surviving out there really put things like this into perspective. You weren't scared of Shane anymore, and from the look in his eyes you thought that he realised it, too.

You and Daryl remained quiet as the rest caught up. You guessed that neither of you felt like you had any fight left. If Daryl was feeling anything like you were, right now, then the adrenaline comedown must have become noticable.

"Hershel said you went on a supply run." Rick said, stepping forward to get a closer look at you both.

His eyebrows were furrowed and you could see the genuine concern on his face. He also looked pissed.

"You didn't think of telling me? What if something happened to you?" He questioned, tone a little harsher than you'd expected from him. His mouth was in a tight line and his voice came out gravelly, strained almost.

He looked over at you, perched on the bike, before giving a slight shake of his head.

"That's not how we do things around here." He finished, a bit softer this time.

You were ashamed for disappointing him, and found it hard to meet his gaze. You also felt emotionally drained, and had to mentally toughen yourself up in case you cried again.

You sighed, finally looking up from the ground. "Rick, Shane. I'm sorry." You spoke, glad that your voice didn't crack. You cleared your throat and built your confidence up. "It was my idea to go before you came back. I wanted to try and ease your load so that you didn't have to worry about something else." You explained, sounding stronger than you felt.

You went on. "Please don't yell at Daryl. He told me not to go but I didn't listen." You looked over towards the biker, who scowled at you before muttering something about being able to defend himself under his breath. "It's not his fault."