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Belle Finds Someone She Hasn't Seen In A Long, Long Time (season nine time-jump, canon)

Enid had always loved my daughter. Ever since the day she was born, all piercing cries and flailing limbs, my friend had cared for her like she would her own child. It started off as a favour, the babysitting, for when I was struggling with coming to terms about my most recent losses. And believe me, it took a long, long time. But the more time they spent together, the more their bond solidified into something entirely separate from me.

That's why I decided to leave them together while I wandered out the gates of Hilltop, one simple task on my mind.

'Find my father.'

A year has passed since the death of Rick Grimes, something that apparently shook the whole world to it's core. It was a pain everyone felt, some more than others (so it seemed).

I had done my fair share of grieving for my father-in-law, a process that immobilised me for months on end. I couldn't get out of bed in the morning, and when I did my feet would drag lazily to the infirmary where I remained seated for hours and hours. It was safe to say the tragedy was life changing, and not in a good way. It was like the entire world ended that day, not just my own life. The communities were drifting, my family was falling apart, the trade routes had crumbled completely. There was nothing left of the future Rick and Carl believed in.

It made sense that Daryl was one of the people who took it the hardest. He and Rick had a relationship similar to that of brothers, their constant disagreements and arguments being solved at the end of the day with a comforting hug. A hug that would no longer be given, and argument that would no longer exist. But him disappearing altogether was something I never expected.

There was no announcement, no goodbye. I just woke up one day and he was gone. No note, nothing. I would never admit it to him, but his retreat caused the Rick-shaped hole in my heart to grow ten sizes, the edges once again becoming raw and bloody. Hadn't I suffered enough without him leaving?

A year had passed since the death of Rick Grimes, and I was finally starting to feel like myself again. I was taking on new responsibilities at the Hilltop, I dropped my daughter off at nursery every day, and I was starting to really smile. Really smile. But this hole, despite the long length of time, needed to heal. And there was only one way to do it.

The leaves crunched under my boots as I trampled through the forest, a familiar feeling I hadn't experienced in far too long. The smell of the air, the distant sounds of lakes trickling and birds chirping, the flashes of sun between brittle branches- I missed it all so much. I even missed the fear, the anticipation of being outside the walls. I enjoyed the safety, I really did, but the adrenaline I felt from constantly checking over my shoulder for threats was strangely comforting. Like I was born to feel it.

My fingers absentmindedly floated along the dry bark, the rough sensation pleasing to the touch and a subtle grin tugging my lips up. My eyes trailed naturally around the woods, picking up on the smallest of details- the knot in the nearest oak branch, the last spark of green in the leaves, the splash of yellow amongst the fading grass. I delicately plucked the flower from the dirt, the petals soft as I cradled it in my palm. The yellow glowed against my skin cheerfully, like a miniature sun in my own grasp. It found its way into the pocket of my sweater, the woollen fabric protecting it as I kept on with my journey.

I wasn't exactly sure which way I was going, or where I should start looking. Michonne told me about the river she met Daryl at several months ago, and Carol mentioned something about a tent in the trees which could have possibly belonged to him. Needless to say, I wasn't the only person looking for him.

My eyes narrowed in a squint as I came upon some tracks, twigs and dirt pushed aside to show clear indents of boot heels. They had been half covered in a weak attempt to hide them, either from laziness or lack of skill. If it was Daryl, it certainly wouldn't be the latter.

I followed them through the trees, my body winding around tall bushes and sharp branches as I stayed on top of the footprints. They looked like they could be his- the shoe was around his size and I spent enough time with him to know how he moved. I'm sure he could say the same about me.

After at least an hour of silently walking I stopped, the tracks leading down to the lakeside just a few metres away. I watched the flutter of the tent door in the wind, the plastic material rustling aggressively. Carol was right, it was here. I took a slow step forward out of curiosity, my movements suddenly freezing with nerves when a man exited the flimsy structure.

Daryl Dixon zipped up the door quickly, keeping the strong force of air out of his new home. He stretched once, let out a small yawn, then perched himself on a fallen tree trunk on the water's edge. In a split second he whipped out a knife and a dead fish, running the blade down the length of the animals body and tossing guts to the side. My eyebrows creased thoughtfully when a dog, barely older than a puppy, bounded through the leaves, lapping up the discarded meat enthusiastically. It was a cute dog, floppy ears and wagging tail and gleaming, playful eyes.

I couldn't move. It was like something inside was telling me to turn around, to cut him out of my life for good. He left me, even when he promised all those years ago to never do it again. He was too blinded by his own grief to see that his absence caused pain to the people around him. To me.

My feet moved without instruction, turning me around as I lightly stalked back into the forest. It wasn't the right time, I told myself. It would be too hard, too uncomfortable for the both of us. What was I supposed to say?

'Come back home, forget about finding the body of-'

Barely five minutes passed when a crashing sound hit my ears, the volume getting louder and louder as the source sped towards me. I frowned with confusion, my head spinning as I peered through the trees.

The dog tumbled through the crunchy forest floor, his jaw hanging wide open as his tongue lolled excitedly over his teeth. He circled my ankles once, twice, three times, before jumping restlessly up my legs.

I lowered myself into a crouch, my fingers automatically going behind his ears to scratch affectionately. The puppy buried himself into my touch, the energy never leaving his gaze as he licked at my hand.

"Hi, puppy." I mumbled happily, rubbing the top of his head as he rolled around. Maybe somehow he had heard me while Daryl didn't, and he came to investigate. I was glad he did, because this moment was one I would cherish. It was the closest I had been to my father in a long time, and for now it was enough.

I dug around in my sweater pocket, retrieving the small flower I picked earlier today. I urged the dog to sit still for a moment, just long enough for me to thread the stem through a hole in his collar. I knotted the end tightly, ensuring it wouldn't fall out before encouraging him to go home. Maybe Daryl would see it, and maybe he would understand that I was still here for him, even if we weren't together.

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This is just a short one but I kinda like it, so tell me what you think

Also I know that Daryl had his reasons to leave, he was desperate to find Rick's body, but I also think him leaving would've hurt Belle a lot and she would have her own feelings in the matter