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Everyone was crowded in the living room, dried cheeks with tear stains and heavy, thick silence that could be cut with a knife. All of us were in denial. We were in denial about Sophia, and the Greenes were in denial about losing their mother/friend/wife. It was heart wrenching for all of us, to find one little girl who was supposed to be alive as a walking dead flesh eating monster.

I look to Carol, who is sitting on the couch and holding Sophia's doll. Andrea and Shane were tucked away in a corner with Dale, Lori and Carl were holding onto each other as Carl cried, Daryl was standing in a corner alone, and the rest of everyone was perched on the couch minus Hershel and Rick, discussing what was happening next.

I wipe my hand down my face, getting up. "Fuck this," I scoff as I open the door. The silence was too much and all I could feel was a sense of fear and dread- two feelings I didn't work well with.

I'm met with the outside air, soon feeling relieved from the tension. The night was starting to fall and I head over to a tree that looked out into a woody clearing. Once I get to the tree, I pull out my pocket knife and grab a piece of thick bark and start to carve into it as I plop down on the grass.

Life was too surreal. Too taken advantage of. And in an apocalypse you had to play checkers as if it was chess- add more pieces to the pot, you get a more difficult game. Your status made you identity and your identity made your survival.

"You're getting a fucking abortion!" Mickey screams, his face in mine as spit hits my cheek. I take my hand and wipe it, mixing saliva with fresh blood dripping from my nose.

"I will I just need you to cough up the money somehow... maybe sell something, I don't know." I wrap my arms around myself, trying to divert eye contact. His almost pitch black psycho eyes grew, his expression and head tilting in a threatening manner. His forehead was almost touching mine now, and I could see a pulse bulge from the side of his temples.

"Then throw yourself down the fucking stairs, or I'll do it." He slams the empty beer bottle in his hand on the table, putting a hand on my chest.

"I don't want to do that." I try to stay firm in my ground, but his mannerisms towered over mine.

"Sage?" A small voice comes from the room next door, petite and confused. I catch sight of the side of her face, her big blue eyes growing to worry and fear.

"It's alright, Ava. Just please, go back to bed." I offer a supporting smile, closing my eyes and waiting for the door to click shut.

"You breathe one fucking word to any doctor I'll make sure to have your ass hunted down. You don't want to mess with my connections in these streets, Sage Wilson." The aroma of beer entered my nose, making my want to gag.

"But-" within seconds, I could feel my heart enter my throat as my body is plummeted into thin air and tumbling down a flight of steps. I feel my back and whole body ache in sharp pains, then hear a little girl screaming.

Within the time I felt or knew what was happening, I was out.

"Sage!" Fingers snap in front of me, forcing me to wake up from reality. I feel my chest tighten and I immediately scramble back into the tree as far as I can. I must have fallen asleep. But that fast? I grasp my shirt, then my back feeling the scars I had from that night. The feeling of Mickey touching me and the look of his anger still remained in my mind- it was engraved into my brain, and ir was never going to leave no matter how hard I tried.

I look up, seeing the night had fallen and the stars were finally appearing. There were traces of clouds in the sky, and the air smelled of grass and summer. I rub my eyes, feeling the tiredness wash over me.

"Who the hell is Mickey?" I finally register the person who woke me up, seeing Daryl stare at me with confusion.

"The hell you wanna know for?" I scoff, trying to turn the other direction away from him. He had pissed me off enough lately, and the RV scene was the icing on the cake.

"Ion know, but he sounds like an asshole." He slides down the tree, sitting next to me and stabbing the ground with a knife. He bites his lip, as his growing hair hangs down in his face.

"He was," I laugh softly as I look down and shake my head. I shake my head, remembering the shit I had been put through- put up with.

"Is that where you got them scars from?" He points over to my side, which was exposed by my lifted tank top. I immediately pull the fabric down, sighing.

"Fuck off." I say short.

"You ain't got nothing to hide from me, Wilson. I saw them all during your operation." He nods his head, looking to me in an analyzing gaze.

"Maybe you shouldn't have looked then, hm?" I flick my knife open then shut, trying to divert my attention.

"I gottem too." Daryl says short. I look over to him, furrowing my eyebrows as I see his expression change from worrisome to PTSD.

"Twinning?" I try to lighten the mood, but only because I had no fucking clue on how to navigate empathy. And neither did he.

"At least tell me that son of a bitch is dead," Daryl clenches his knife, slamming it harder into the ground.

"Should be. As soon as this shit started, I got him drunk, shoved him outside, locked the door, took care of my sister.. then this shit.." I bite my cheek, remembering his last words to me. Ones that I loved to hear, because I was the evil one in the end. I was the one that killed him, he didn't.

"My brother's quite the drunk too. Druggie too. Experimented with all kinds, left me home to deal with the repercussions." Daryl says with a scoff. Why was he telling me all of this? Was he drunk?

"Why didn't you kill him?" I look to Daryl, only for him to meet my eyes.

"Because he's all I've ever had in this fucked up world." Daryl opens his mouth but then all of a sudden, a loud bang goes off nearby.

Daryl and I immediately stand, looking for the source only to see three figures out in the middle of the field. We both nod to each other, immediately sprinting towards the group of silhouettes.

Penance (Book One): Daryl Dixon x Sage Wilson Where stories live. Discover now