Catch Fire | Daryl Dixon

BIRTHDAY

Kennedy's POV

The next few months passed in a blur of routine and quiet tension. We'd managed to keep the peace, or at least the appearance of it, with Rick and his group. Oceanside and Hilltop had stayed close, working together on trade agreements and keeping things civil with Alexandria. It wasn't easy, but it was necessary. We couldn't afford to provoke Rick, not after everything that had gone down. So, we stayed on our best behaviour, keeping our heads down and our eyes open.

I kept my distance, letting Daryl, Jesus, and Tara handle the trade trips to Alexandria. The fewer interactions I had with Rick, the better. He seemed to think everything was fine now, like that pathetic excuse for a vote had actually solved anything. But it hadn't, not really. We were just biding our time, waiting for the right moment to make our move. And I wasn't about to let Rick think otherwise.

When Rick did show up at Hilltop, I kept things simple. Polite, but distant. I didn't give him any more than I had to, and I sure as hell didn't let him get close enough to see what I was really thinking. He'd made his choice, and I'd made mine. But that didn't mean I had to play nice.

Daryl, on the other hand, was slowly letting Rick back in. I could see it happening, bit by bit. He'd let Rick interact with Willow, watching them with that guarded look he always had when he wasn't sure if he could trust someone. But he was softening, his walls breaking down in that way only Rick could manage. 

Glenn and I were having a harder time with it. We didn't talk about it much, but we didn't need to. I could see it in the way Glenn's jaw would tighten whenever Rick's name came up, the way his eyes would darken when he thought no one was watching. We were both still carrying the weight of what had happened, and it wasn't something we could just let go of.

Whenever Rick was with Daryl and Willow, I made sure to stay away. I'd find something to do; organizing supplies, checking the crops, anything to keep my mind off what was happening. But I was always nearby, always keeping a protective eye on my family. I trusted Daryl, of course, but I didn't trust Rick. Not anymore.

There was this one time when I was working in the garden, close enough to hear the faint sound of Willow's laughter. I looked up, catching a glimpse of Rick sitting on the porch steps, Willow in his lap, while Daryl leaned against the railing, watching them with that familiar mix of caution and something like resignation. It hit me hard to see them like that. Part of me wanted to march over there, scoop Willow up, and take her far away from Rick. But I stayed where I was, my hands gripping the edge of the planter box until my knuckles turned white.

It wasn't just about me anymore. It was about Willow; about the world we were trying to build for her. But how could I let Rick be part of that world when I still couldn't shake the feeling that he was wrong? That he'd let us down when we needed him most?

I tried to push those thoughts aside, focusing on the task at hand. But they lingered, gnawing at the back of my mind like a festering wound that refused to heal. I wasn't sure if I'd ever be able to let it go, but I knew I had to keep it together for the sake of my family.

When Rick finally left, I watched him walk away, feeling a mix of relief and anger. I knew Daryl was watching me; I could feel his eyes on my back, but I didn't turn around. I couldn't let him see how much it still hurt, how much I was struggling to keep it all together.

"Ken?" Daryl's voice was soft and tentative like he wasn't sure if I wanted to talk. "You okay?"

I forced myself to take a deep breath, to let go of the tension in my shoulders. "Yeah," I replied, my voice steady. "I'm fine."

But I wasn't, not really. I wasn't sure if I'd ever be fine again, not with the way things were. But I had to keep going, for Daryl, for Willow, for all of us.